A True Manhattan F*ck-Up.

Pllleeeaaassse comment ;D

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The jet black, unmarked, Mercedes SLR AMG, rolled up to the South Jersey warehouse, Crunching the hard gravel beneath its large black rubber tyres. This is where it end's. It would be easy, all he had to do was pull a trigger, then it was over. Pull the trigger, and kill his best friend that is. Kill his mentor, the man that got him where he is today. Kill the man who had killed for him, the man who had put his life on the line for him. But no, he couldn't think like that. This was purely business, nothing personal. The exact words the soon to be victum told him when they first met, when he was brought into the life. The life of money, women, respect, power. The life he loved. He LOVED it, not anymore, the consequences of his actions had caught up with him. I mean what could he expect? To steal, murder and threaten with no consequences? Yes, that's exactly what he expected. At the time he thought this life was for ever. And that was his downfall. See in this business.. This way of life, you rarely die a natural death, and even if you do half of your life wouldn't be worth living. What kind of life is looking over your shoulder in fear of death ever other minute, wondering who it's going to be to take your life, who are they going to send? Your best friend? Your brother? Heck, it could even be your son. There's no one these men can't get to. Forget the fact that the government run the country, because these men run the government. They pay off the politicians and officials to vote for what they want. They have no real power, just the middle men, there to look good. These men are the reason an innocent young kid from Sicily, growing up in Manhattan, 94th street, turned out to be a killer, a man about to kill his best friend...