country but when we arrived, we had no where near the amount of money I’d built with an empire of drugs, human trafficking and strip clubs.
I was a man and although Yelena would always be special to me, I’d had my share of affairs. One was with Carrick “Shaw” Shaughnessy’s mother and he was the result. The thought of murdering my son was a definite “no” but he would have to pay with that piece of pussy he had with him. She had too many connections and my poor Shaw—bless his black heart—couldn’t find a flaw within her when she had more secrets than the Kardashian family.
I would send men down to Nashville but their only target was her, not my son. I’d already lost one and I wouldn’t lose another one ever again. He’d earned those stars on his back; let’s just hope she was too stupid not to notice them.
However Liv was anything but that. She’d graduated with excellent grades from Boston University, and why not? She earned every penny on her back or sliding down one of my poles at the strip club she worked. Shaw probably thought he had virgin pussy on his hands but that one—after what she did to my Vladimir? She had to pay and pay she did over and over again. I gave her advice about kegel exercises so when she finally seduced my youngest son, he would think he had a prize on his hands but the truth was she was a whore.
Like all women—even my own daughter. They’d spread their legs if it meant opportunity. Liv might have thought she could ride into the sunset with my son but she was dead fucking wrong. I’d put a bullet through her skull and get rid of her. As much as I hated to make this next call, I had to. If I murdered the mick around here, I’d have The Baker on me so fast, he’d make the Airbus seem slow. Unfortunately, I would have to get his permission and that didn’t set well with me at all.
I picked up my burner phone, a fifty thousand dollar Ulysse Nardin. Swiss made and one of the top phones on the market. Too bad most people couldn’t afford them therefore the NSA had no way to drop in on my calls. The moment I dialed The Baker’s number, our conversation would scramble and they would hear nothing but a bunch of gibberish.
God bless the United States for their lackluster security services.
I was busy like always when I got the call from Povikov.
I didn’t trust him—how could I? He wasn’t Irish and had no concept of history. The Irish had always ran Boston, and I, Niall Liam Carter, was one of the most powerful men in the underworld here.
It didn’t matter that I had legitimate siblings that were law abiding and did everything right. My brother and I were just bad seeds in a family of eight children. The problem was my bro didn’t need the money. He ran the Lucifer Saints Boston chapter but his son was famous. He had plenty of money and was now married to a Lennon—our arch enemies but it also kept the peace between the two families. Lennon “Linx” Carter, a superstar with the hard rock band, Winter’s Regret had impregnated his new wife as soon as possible and they now had a beautiful baby girl and boy. The young woman had given birth to twins. She’d sworn after that no more kids but if I knew my nephew, he’d have her knocked up within a year.
They called me the baker because I dealt mostly in cocaine and marijuana. I had the ability to make my cocaine stretch by adding meth to it and everything worked out beautifully. I also added the concoction to my marijuana too so everyone knew what they were buying when they bought from my guys on the street.
Shaw, unfortunately wasn’t one of my guys. He worked for that Commie bastard and that’s why I dropped a dime on his pompous ass and had him sent upstate with his dad in Walpole for four years. It was originally a ten year sentence but with prison overcrowding, his good behavior, and my prison connections, I got him out in four.
It was merely a warning. If he kept dealing with Povikov, then
I was a man and although Yelena would always be special to me, I’d had my share of affairs. One was with Carrick “Shaw” Shaughnessy’s mother and he was the result. The thought of murdering my son was a definite “no” but he would have to pay with that piece of pussy he had with him. She had too many connections and my poor Shaw—bless his black heart—couldn’t find a flaw within her when she had more secrets than the Kardashian family.
I would send men down to Nashville but their only target was her, not my son. I’d already lost one and I wouldn’t lose another one ever again. He’d earned those stars on his back; let’s just hope she was too stupid not to notice them.
However Liv was anything but that. She’d graduated with excellent grades from Boston University, and why not? She earned every penny on her back or sliding down one of my poles at the strip club she worked. Shaw probably thought he had virgin pussy on his hands but that one—after what she did to my Vladimir? She had to pay and pay she did over and over again. I gave her advice about kegel exercises so when she finally seduced my youngest son, he would think he had a prize on his hands but the truth was she was a whore.
Like all women—even my own daughter. They’d spread their legs if it meant opportunity. Liv might have thought she could ride into the sunset with my son but she was dead fucking wrong. I’d put a bullet through her skull and get rid of her. As much as I hated to make this next call, I had to. If I murdered the mick around here, I’d have The Baker on me so fast, he’d make the Airbus seem slow. Unfortunately, I would have to get his permission and that didn’t set well with me at all.
I picked up my burner phone, a fifty thousand dollar Ulysse Nardin. Swiss made and one of the top phones on the market. Too bad most people couldn’t afford them therefore the NSA had no way to drop in on my calls. The moment I dialed The Baker’s number, our conversation would scramble and they would hear nothing but a bunch of gibberish.
God bless the United States for their lackluster security services.
I was busy like always when I got the call from Povikov.
I didn’t trust him—how could I? He wasn’t Irish and had no concept of history. The Irish had always ran Boston, and I, Niall Liam Carter, was one of the most powerful men in the underworld here.
It didn’t matter that I had legitimate siblings that were law abiding and did everything right. My brother and I were just bad seeds in a family of eight children. The problem was my bro didn’t need the money. He ran the Lucifer Saints Boston chapter but his son was famous. He had plenty of money and was now married to a Lennon—our arch enemies but it also kept the peace between the two families. Lennon “Linx” Carter, a superstar with the hard rock band, Winter’s Regret had impregnated his new wife as soon as possible and they now had a beautiful baby girl and boy. The young woman had given birth to twins. She’d sworn after that no more kids but if I knew my nephew, he’d have her knocked up within a year.
They called me the baker because I dealt mostly in cocaine and marijuana. I had the ability to make my cocaine stretch by adding meth to it and everything worked out beautifully. I also added the concoction to my marijuana too so everyone knew what they were buying when they bought from my guys on the street.
Shaw, unfortunately wasn’t one of my guys. He worked for that Commie bastard and that’s why I dropped a dime on his pompous ass and had him sent upstate with his dad in Walpole for four years. It was originally a ten year sentence but with prison overcrowding, his good behavior, and my prison connections, I got him out in four.
It was merely a warning. If he kept dealing with Povikov, then
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