Mad max chicago crew, p.1
Mad Max (Chicago Crew), page 1
Mad Max
Copyright © 2021 by Sapphire Knight
Cover Design: CT Cover Creations
Editing: Editing Done Write
Format: N.E. Henderson
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Contents
Warning
Frequent Terms in Mad Max
Preface
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Recipe
Acknowledgments
Also by Sapphire
About the Author
Warning
This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 17 and older due to steamy, sexy, hotness that will have you jumping your man. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law. Stealing this book makes you a thieving prick and I hope your tits fall off.
This book is fiction.
The guys are over the top Alphas.
My men and women are nuts.
This is not real.
Don’t steal my shit, I have bills too.
Read for enjoyment.
This is not your momma’s cookbook.
Easily offended people should not read this.
Don’t be a dick.
Frequent Terms in Mad Max
Capo dei capi – Boss of bosses
Capo - Boss
Sottocapo – Underboss
Caporegime – Captain
Rappresentante - Representative
Soldato/Soldati – Soldier/Soldiers
Made man – Initiated mafia member
Famiglia – Family
Bella – Beautiful
Grazie – Thanks
Fratello/fratelli- Brother/brothers
Si- Yes
Amore – Love
Porca Miseria – Miserable pig
Tesoro – Treasure
Pezzo di merda – Piece of shit
Cara- Dear
Cazzo – Fuck
Dio Santo – Oh my God
Zia – Aunt
In case you skipped the initial warning-
Max is an ANTI-HERO alpha.
Don’t expect fluff and get your knickers in a twist! 😊
Dedication
To those of us who love the bad
guy as much as we love the hero.
Keep the knight in shining armor, I want the mobster that’ll burn the world down for me.
“Who are you?”
“Demon to some. Angel to others.”
– Promptuarium
“You’re short,” I note, reading aloud the number on the scale. “Nine point seven pounds.” It’s still strange referring to weight as pounds, rather than pounds referring to a type of currency. Americans have to alter every bloody thing to become their own.
The low-level criminal’s mouth gapes, reminding me of a fish as it screws up, sputtering, attempting to come up with an excuse. There’re few I’ll buy if any. He’s fucked.
“Hundred thousand weighs ten pounds. Everyone knows that much, bloke.” I sound posh around these imbeciles. My lips twist into a sinister smirk. I always enjoy it a bit too much when the idiots attempt to short Joker. “Boss won’t be pleased, not in the slightest.” My nose turns up as my gaze hardens, staring at the poor fool who’s going to lose his life today.
“P-please, I had no idea it was short. I swear I counted it!” he pleads, as if I’m the fool. He calls himself a gangster. I scoff at the thought. Gangsters don’t fuck up when it comes to money, and cash is what makes this world keep turning.
My hand shoots out, my grip wrapping around his backstreet tattooed neck. Leaning in, my smirk blooms into a full-blown grin. I get to kill someone today; it always makes my afternoons far more enjoyable. His face flushes, sweat beading along his brow, but my hold is too tight. He can’t squeeze a word past his fat, lying lips.
“The part about this job I favor most, is when blokes like you fuck up.” With a quick drive, I slam the back of his head into the brick pillar. This old warehouse building I conduct most of Joker’s business in is full of them. I fancied the classic, exposed brickwork when I’d first checked it out. I may kill people here, but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the architecture as well.
“M-ma-mad Ma-a-a-ax,” he manages to sputter, and I laugh manically. Is that supposed to stop me? I’m no Rumpelstiltskin, and there’s no way to win against me.
“So they like to call me. Say, am I really quite mad, or simply good at what I do?” I ponder, peering at the shaking, pathetic excuse for a thug. Laughing again, because I amuse myself in these situations, I retort loudly, “Oh, right. You can’t speak!”
Chuckling darkly, I finish, “Now, I’ll make you stop breathing as well. Bye-bye, ol’ chap. Say hello to the other bloody bastards I’ve sent to hell.” At that, I continue to bash his head against the brick until blood splatters the beam crimson and runs down the man’s back. The gleam of life fades from his expression, his hold growing limp. I toss him to the floor as yesterday’s rubbish.
“Well, that was fun.” I turn toward a few of the men watching me carefully as I draw a hanky free to clean the filth from my hand. Occasionally, I’ll be caught in the moment and kill another directly after, so I understand why they’re a bit overly cautious. They never know what to expect. I’d like to believe it’s part of my charm and why they stay in line for the most part. It’s quite simple: they can do as they’re ordered or die.
“Anyone else care to short Joker? I could go again, make this a proper lesson?” I offer, and their faces pinch in panic. Bunch of saps, the idiots.
A throat clears beside me, and I snap my attention to Andre. “The next group of deposit drops will be here tomorrow.”
With a huff, I wave it off. “Figures, just when I was in the mood to fuck with another. Someone fetch me a plate of fish and chips, and if another idiot comes back with crisps, it will be their funeral.”
I’m to meet Thaddaeus—Joker to the wankers around here—for afternoon tea. Until then, I need something to hold me over. The testy Italian laughed at me the first time I requested it, and in return I punched him. We were fast friends after that sort of test. It takes a ballsy one to laugh in my face and another to take my blow. My respect for him grew and our close-knit group of friends eventually adopted afternoon tea. These Americans have no idea what they’ve been missing.
Today’s meet-up isn’t only a cash drop; we’re discussing the future of our little export business. It’s not so small anymore, and his uncle has become an issue. He’s a powerful man, sitting in the syndicate spot originally meant for my mate. The time has come, however, for things to change. T married Grace, and his uncle became a prime concern in regard to the curvy beauty’s safety. I have a feeling I’m going to be the lucky chap to put Thaddaeus on his rightful throne.
There are five rich and powerful families that rule the Chicago Crime Syndicate. My mate’s uncle is the head of one of those families. Imagine the discord it will create when I stab him to death. Not that I care, I thrive on a bit of chaos.
I’ve always been this way, different from my parents and other relatives. I’m from an extremely wealthy British family—elitists, the lot of them. I may’ve blown through their money while I was a young chap, but that changed when they threatened reform school. The streets of London called for my type of debauchery, and I was much obliged to offer it. I was branded a thug by my father and cast out. It was fine; they’d always held me back anyway.
I was quickly moving up through the ranks of a prominent London gang. I’d gotten my first real taste of power and knew I was never meant for the life my parents had planned for me. It’s what led me to meet Thaddaeus Morelli, the Joker of Chicago. The notorious gangster became my best mate, the only American I had any respect for, and my loyalty led me west. I’d come to America hungry for more power, ready to be his henchman.
Hell is empty.
All the devils are here.
– William Shakespeare
“Max,” Thaddaeus greets as we all unclasp our suit jacket buttons and have a seat around the fireplace in the parlor. The house sta
Americans don’t appreciate a good tea nearly as much as they should. Mine has a splash of brandy, which is customary for my tastes. I silently nod my greeting to everyone around the table. Reaching forward, I take my cup and stir the brandy and tea mixture. “Tell me we have some good news. Is it finally time?”
My mate’s brow rises, and he sends a contemplative glance my direction before sharing. “Actually, it is. I’m ready for the takeover. My uncles pushed me too far. He expects us to give him everything we’ve got, everything we’ve accomplished on our own over the years. Well, no more. I won’t have him threatening my famiglia. Having Grace, along with our own children, means everything to me. I don’t want to have to worry about Uncle clapping back again in the future if we give in to him now.”
“It’s your rightful spot,” Dillion needlessly supplies, as we all know the history by now.
We’re all painfully aware that Thaddaeus is the top dog in Chicago, a title well earned, yet he denies it. Although, with the Vendettis moving into the Five Families table, I don’t know how long that title will last. The Vendettis are a prominent Italian Mafia family from New York, and they’re not shy about expanding their territory. They’ve already sent one brother here to Chicago to sit in the Bottaro’s place, and we have to be on the ball or else Thaddaeus stands to lose everything.
“Are we privy to the plan you’ve no doubt gotten cooked up?” I cast my gaze around the room, waiting for a peek at his ravishing wife, Grace. I’ve wanted to shag her from the moment I laid my eyes on her frightened, curvy body. The time I followed her to the cop shop and threatened her was fun; I’ll never forget it. She’d been so careless in gaining Joker’s eye during one of our many lunches. I thought for certain she’d end up dead once he became obsessed with stalking her, but nevertheless, she prevailed. Not only that, but they’re married and my bloke’s world revolves around the gorgeous woman.
Thaddaeus drinks from his coffee before replying, “There’s several things that we need to have in play before this can fully happen. First thing, we’ve discussed the Vendettis’ presence in the city. Dante Vendetti has been throwing his weight around at the table, and there’s rumors he’s the serial killer wreaking havoc at the moment.”
“Hunting down the prominent families?” I cut in, unable to stop and listen further without knowing. The Five Families that sit at the table used to be untouchable…until one of their own turned on them and killed his father. The spin of events brought the Vendettis into town and has quickly become a thorn in our side.
“Yes. I’ve heard whispers. Supposedly, he’s tracking them all down so he can take out their entire lines.”
A wicked sounding chuckle leaves my lips. “This is perfect. The wanker is doing our dirty work for us then. Perhaps we send him a thank you card.”
Everybody stares at me until Thaddaeus eventually speaks. “It means Dante Vendetti will eventually come after me and my famiglia, then after you guys. My crew.”
“Shall I kill him and be done with it then?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. I have something else for you…if you’re open to it.”
I flash a glance around at our group and nod. I’m always game for a bit of fun when it comes to our line of work. They don’t call me his henchman for nothing, bunch of scared pricks.
“The Five Famiglias are scattered, running scared. Dante’s been putting feelers out, trying to hone in on everyone’s locations. We’ll leak the location of Uncle, and at the same time, we’ll forge an alliance. One of the Five has a daughter. He’s very protective over her. If you’re willing, Max, I’d like for you to marry her.”
“The fuck? Stop mugging me off, mate.” I don’t bother to end it with a laugh. Everyone here knows how ridiculous this sounds. What would I do with a wife? Kill her for sport?
“I’m not,” T declares seriously. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it’d give us the alliance we need. Her father is terrified his daughter is next in Dante’s line of sights. I need you to step in, promise that sense of security. You may be British, but Chicago knows you, the streets fear you. This could be the alliance we need to guarantee me at the table in Uncles place.”
“Why not let these Vendettis kill them all off and we swoop in to take it off their hands?” Cage grumbles, and for once I don’t feel like hitting the bugger. This whole ruse feels a bit dodgy.
“That would be too easy. The Vendettis need to understand the roots we have dig deeply in this city. They won’t kill a bunch of prominent people and just take everything over. I won’t allow that to happen. I need to forge alliances and at the same time allow Dante to be the bad guy for killing some of my adversaries. When it’s all said and done, I’m hoping for an alliance with the Vendettis and not a war.”
His attention falls on me once more. “This isn’t some old-fashioned arranged marriage that used to be so popular by older Italian generations. This is merely an agreement made by all parties that will benefit us in these changing times. I won’t demand you marry her, or anyone for that matter, Max. I would never. If you’re not on board with this then we’ll come up with another plan or ask someone else. This opportunity, however, is almost too easy to let it slip by. And you certainly wouldn’t have to remain married to her if you decided you couldn’t stand the woman.”
We’re quiet as Grace breezes into the room, wearing an airy dress that makes my chest ache at not being able to touch her. I shouldn’t desire my mate’s wife, but I still do, occasionally. Especially when she’s not wearing a bra and I can make out her pert nipples underneath.
Thaddaeus backtracks, “It’s fine, Max. I knew it was a long shot, so we’ll find another way.” He’s guilt tripping me without even realizing it, not that I care.
I watch with rapt attention as the lush woman leans over and gives him a proper kiss. Her interference catches my attention, however, and when I’m feeling irritated or pissed drunk then I tend to make rash decisions. They never end up being much good either.
What do I have to lose by doing this for T? Obviously, I’ll never have Grace, and she’s stolen a large part of Thaddaeus’ attention, so I no longer have my best mate by my side all the time. After everything he has done for me, this is the least I can do for him in return. “Bollocks. I’ll do it. I’ll marry her,” I state, gauging his and Grace’s reaction.
She stares at me with wide eyes before T pats her behind and asks her for a moment of alone time with his crew. He actually asks her permission. It’s positively ridiculous, to say the least.
“How do you know she’ll agree? I’m not being thrust into some forced marriage. If she’s not on board with this shoddy plan then I’m out. I won’t waste my time fighting with the wench, I have too many women about that want to shag me, as well as men to kill.”
“It’s not like that. She’s older, established in her life. She’ll agree to it, to please her papa. She uses his bank account at times from my understanding, so she’ll oblige him if she wants it to stay that way. He’s one of the only men at the table who doesn’t regularly strong-arm his famiglia into doing his bidding. This will shake him up with guilt and fear, all in a good way for us.”
“She certainly won’t touch my accounts, and she better not be yesterday’s rubbish. I won’t be forced to look at a bloody ugly woman for however long this farce takes place. I’ll toss her in a ditch if need be.”
