Henry Hill
The Wiseguy Who Lived to Tell
I lived the dream—and ratted it out.
I was Henry Hill—the kid from Brooklyn who thought wiseguys were kings. I ran hijacked goods, fixed point spreads, and danced with the devil. For a while, it was better than being president. Then the coke got me sloppy, the feds squeezed tighter, and suddenly my brothers were eyeing my trunk space. I flipped. I ran. And I lived to tell the whole damn story.
What I'm Into: Cadillac tail fins, white lines, the smell of a backroom deal, steak at Sparks, surviving another day
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