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Rated: · Book · Crime/Gangster · #1212998
The second chapter of my novel "Ten Minutes"
The Lucky Pot was one of Charles "Lucky" Mancini's many fronts for his drug smuggling business. Charles Mancini was a man who was arrested on burglary charges in the 90's in Chicago, he did two or three years and came out "rehabilitated". He took out some loans and was starting businesses left and right as it seemed almost as if the Lucky Pot was open for business the day he was released. Lucky used his time in Chicago's Cook County Correctional Facility wisely and gained many valueable connections to which he would use when he was released to eventually start a full out cartel which was slowly becoming unstoppable throughout Chicago. The list of the drugs to hit the Midwest scene due to Lucky Mancini's efforts were, marijuana, LSD, ecstacy, heroin, methamphetamines, cocaine, mushrooms, opium, pcp, salvia, and anything else that there became a demand for Lucky controlled it, supplied it, and most importantly made profit from it. Lucky had the money to hire workers, dealers, lookouts, hitmen and was moving on to having political candidates quickly moving up the chains. His strategic efforts went unmatched by even the Chicago gangs who began to back down once Lucky got out of prison and many of the gang leaders began to mysteriously disapear. City officials gave the credit to the City of Chicago's police departments new staffing requirements which had five extra officers on patrol at any given time. The truth was that there was no need for gangs to fight over any territory when it all belonged to one big organization. It seemed as if Chicago didn't even belong to the government anymore, Chicago belonged to Lucky Mancini and he was only getting stronger.
Well here we are at present times and Lucky Mancini half asleep spits at one of his dealers "What do you mean your short? You're late and you come to me, wake me up to tell me that you're short? You know one more day and I woulda had the scopes out for ya, you know that, I know ya do. Come on no more games"
"I'm only short a hundred, come on I'll get it back to ya on this next package or I'll work some extra shifts."
"What the hell d'ya mean , you'll get it back to me on the next package? There aint no next package until I get my hundred bucks, bob." This was something
odd about Lucky that you wouldn't understand unless you talk to him a lot, you are bob. I am bob, this dealer of Lucky's, you guessed it, he's bob too. If he was
talking to you he would always refer to you as bob. Whether if it was because he was never any good at names or some other reason unknown to anyone Lucky just
called everyone bob.
"Listen I've been doing real good business for you on the West Side of town, I pretty much got it covered, I mean it's only a hundred bucks until I can get ridda some of this next package. Come on Luck' I hadda pay my bills buddy."
"I aint no buddy of yours, I give you the product for you to make your profit off of. I give you these packages at an honest price so you can make yourself
some extra change I know you got a kid and all, but see I need money in my situations as well. If I let everyone ya get away with a hundred bucks here and a
hundred bucks there then it becomes three hundred and then I'm paying out more money to hire enforcers to be running all around town collecting stacks for me
everywhere. Nah I can't have that, it gets too messy. Bring me the hundred bucks and we'll see what we can do about gettin ya another package just don't come barging in here waking me up for this shit anymore." and the man turned around and walked out the door. Lucky hated to be incompetent son of a bitch but softies never got themselves anywhere near where Lucky had get himself. No you don't stake claim to one of America's biggest cities by being a pushover. Lucky was just getting out of bed and was interrupted by the dealer who feared Lucky so much that he thought it was a big enough deal that the money for his package was overdue a day that he woke up Lucky at the crack of dawn on a snow covered January morning. Lucky got up and had his cook make him some breakfast while he showered and then made his rounds to all his businesses to make sure everything was going smoothly and to drop off or pickup money or contraband. Lucky never stored any of the drugs at his house and had been keeping them all in trucks parked right outside of Lucky's businesses where they were secured by securtiy guards and monitored by camera at all times
Lucky gets out of the backseat of his white luxury SUV which is driven by a hired driver/bodyguard. Nothing flashy on the exterior but the interior is customized with parallel bus seats in the back behind the rear doors. Equipped with a fully stocked bar, flat screen tv, and a center table that doubled as a hookah Lucky never wanted to limit the possibities of comfort away from home. He was just about to take a seat at the bar at a place he owned in downtown Chicago, called Rolling Meadows. This was a real high class steak joint. All of Lucky's key player's would be frequently seen at Rolling Meadows enjoying fifty dollar steaks, but at only a couple hours after noon the only thing open was the bar. Lucky takes a seat on one of the red suade stools as a short Latino man comes out from the back of the bar with a smile on his face greeting Lucky and his enterouge.
"A screwdriver will start me out good bob, how's business been around here?" Lucky asks the manager/bartender/man he put in charge at his most successful business establishment to exist also known as Alex Ortiz.
"Busier than usual but what can you expect Lucky, prime spot, at such a good time, not to mention a lot of your guys come through here on the regular, which by the way Lucky they've been bringing some shady looking guys in here and you know I don't want things to run anything other than smoothly so I'm going to have to start enforcing that dress code."
"No problem Alex, I got it taken care of. A few of the guys'll be coming through here in a few I'll hollar at em and tell them to keep the bums outta here. All you have to do for me is keep running this place the way you've been and don't be surprised if you don't have some kind of raise coming your way Alex. You keep taking care of business and I'll keep taking care of you."
By the time Lucky was finished saying this a rougly six and a half feet tall man carrying a suitcase withdark hair and a dark sports jacket on walks in and takes a seat at one of the booths in the corner of the restaraunt and lights up a cigar. Lucky seems to recognize the man as they acknowledge each other from across the room with a nod but Lucky doesn't seem to happy to seem him. Lucky waits for Alex to finish making his screwdriver and then makes his way across the low lit room to the man in the booth. The man moves to Lucky's right so Lucky sits strategically across from him on his left. The man starts to wear a grin and takes a puff of his cigar setting it in the ashtray and crossing his fingers over the table. The man has two big rings with big diamonds and a gold watch.
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