Mafia Savages Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
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“So that’s the plan? We knock over a bank?” My tone was sarcastic, but the gears in my head were turning. “Those private security firms you mentioned—they won’t engage us in a firefight, but they will call it in if they notice us. What’s their patrol schedule? How many ways in and out?”

“A Rockstead Security van passes by that bank once every hour,” Julian’s response was fast, as if he anticipated my query. “Three ways in and out. This is what makes this so goddamn irresistible, Rocco. Even if the hacker fucks up somehow and the bank alarm goes off, the cops won’t be able to corner us. We’ll just drive away. By the time backup gets there, we’ll be miles away.”

“Easy money,” Slater said, but he sounded so goddamn miserable that his words didn’t instill much confidence.

We talked it over in low voices for a while longer. Finally, I sighed. “It does sound pretty tempting. But we can’t forget Roselli. What the fuck is he going to do if he finds out we pulled a job without telling him?” And that was just part of the problem. If we actually used the money to obtain our freedom, there’d be a huge price on our heads.

“He’ll be pissed—that’s for sure.” Julian grinned at the thought. “Like I give a shit about that. Hopefully we’ll be sipping cocktails on some beach in Cuba before he finds out.”

“You think he can’t reach us down there?” My question wiped that smile right off Julian’s face. My friends knew that the organization could locate anyone they liked. “That’s what I thought,” I went on. “I tell you what. Let’s go over to North Haven tomorrow night. I want to see for myself how easy it would be to rob that bank. And Slater?” I looked at my suffering friend. “Make sure you’re sober, or else I’ll kick you out of the fucking car.” I meant it, but he was one of my two oldest friends. I’d be sure to stop it first.

Giving Marina a wave, I strode out. Despite the many details to work out, Slater’s plan intrigued me. Sure, the millions were part of the appeal. But to get out from under the thumb of a prick like Nick Roselli? That was priceless.

It could be our ticket to a better life. A life where we wouldn’t have to work for a fucking idiot—and would never have to worry about money again. Still, until I saw the bank with my own two eyes, I couldn’t reach a decision. No matter how much I trusted my boys, I wasn’t going to put my neck on the line for something that I hadn’t even seen.

3

JULIAN

The whole time I’d been playing nursemaid to Slater, I’d been trying to anticipate Rocco’s reaction to the plan. There’d been just one question I’d been dreading, hoping he wouldn’t ask it.

He had.

We’d all heard of stories of wise guys turning up in the most unlikely places, thousands and thousands of miles away from the US. Some had gone all the way to India or Japan to get away from the people after them. It all depended on how careful they were. On how well they’d managed to cover their tracks. Somewhere along the line, most of those poor bastards got sloppy and made a mistake. After that, their fate was sealed. Their bodies were found in pools of their own blood.

The men in our line of work hated getting double-crossed. Upsetting a powerful Don equaled a death sentence, and that death was quick and brutal. One shot to the head and a few more in the face, which was even more despicable. They did that so that the dead guy’s family couldn’t have an open-casket funeral. So that his loved ones got even more horrified…

Not that that was much of a concern for us. None of us had families. All three of us were the product of New York’s abhorrent foster care system. All we had was each other, but that was enough.

I felt relieved that the plan was now in Rocco’s hands. As I’d anticipated, he wanted to do some recon. That was smart. Slater was good with coming up with the ideas—and drinking Tequila—but Rocco was the man with a plan. I helped. I researched, I analyzed. But Rocco was the one who’d make the call.

The next night, the three of us drove to North Haven in my ancient, rust-covered clunker. The clattering engine had been something like a fourth passenger for the past hour or so. It was hard to miss, especially whenever I decided to push it a bit faster.

“That thing ain’t going to explode, is it?” Slater asked as my wheel hit a pothole and the whole vehicle shuddered.

I stared him down through my rearview mirror. “I liked you better drunk.”



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