Anthony Hunt a young dashing bachelor from New Mexico,lives under a dual personality, Anthony Hunts as a Casino and hotel conglomerate and Blade Knuckles as a Mafia lord. He was coached by ruthless Lucas Guzman and together the two syndicates cast terror within and outside the borders of New Mexico. Anthony collides with Nevena Bachvarov, a Bulgarian tourist, who runs into his arm one night asking him to save her . Breanna Stewart, an ex of Anthony, ventures back into his life as a government agent employed to investigate the mysterious Blade Knuckles. What was meant to be an investigation, turned into a personal war for Breanna Stewart Anthony in one of his numerous hits, kills an innocent man John Willow, son of Liza Minnelli, she had saved Anthony when an encounter with Vincenzo, a counter Mafia, almost claimed his life in the past . Nevena's presence struck a delicate chord in Anthony's cold heart, warming it in the process. Anthony realized that he was in love after he gave up his escape from the police just to get Nevena treated from a gunshot injury, Breanna Stewart finally got a chance to prosecute Anthony but Liza Minnelli gave another testimony and it led to Anthony's unanimous discharge. Sorrowful Liza Minnelli cursed Anthony that nemesis would catch up to him soon. Lucas Guzman wouldn't get over it when Anthony declares his desire to quit crime. Just when everything begins to fall into place, disaster strikes. Nevena got blown up by unknown hitmen , Anthony embraced the life of crime again, Vincenzo, Lucas Guzman and many more were on his suspect list . Bloodshed became the new trend as Anthony sought revenge over Nevena's death, the police denied any involvement since it's a war among the Mafia's.
View MoreWithout a word, he removed his jacket and covered her. “You—”. Breanna croaked, through tear-blurred eyes. Antonio bent, and with startling ease, lifted her off the ground. “Could that B*tch be his—kitten{Woman}?” The casino roared, half in shock, half in thrill, as he held her like a prized possession. Breanna resisted, wrists instinctively trying to push him away, but Antonio's grip got stronger—unshakable. Helpless, she turned her face into his shoulder—her arms dangling weakly around his neck. The architect of her humiliation was now carrying her as though she were something fragile. Antonio didn’t falter until they reached his private deck. A few more steps to the bed, he hurled her unceremoniously, careless if bone cracked on impact. “Why were you dressed like a fucking pornstar?” His roar snapped through the room. Breanna’s voice cracked, torn between anger and shame. “Why? Is that why you let them go this far?” Snarling, Antonio crawled
𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°° Caught in-between, she turned and walked to him, going down on her knees. She grabbed the erection between his legs and stroked. Next, she slid her thumb across the opening before pulling it into her mouth with a wet suck. “Holy shit!” the man gasped. “Go…Go” voices rose in a savage chorus. From across the pit—VIP, Antonio heard the roaring crowd. He eyed the scene and his soldier hinted at what was happening. “Bloody whore” he clinked his tongue in disgust—his attention navigating back to his business. Just as the man was about to jerk, Breanna popped his c*ck free with a smack of her lips and laughed huskily. “Save it for later—Jerker, someone got to keep the party going.” “F*c
𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°° “What?” Sophia’s head whipped to her. “Drive? To where?” Breanna's gaze flicked back at the street. “We need to change the wardrobe....It has been a while,” she replied calmly. “You’ve got to be kidding me”. Sophia blinked “Are you seriously thinking about shopping—now?” The car's door slammed to that question and Sophia’s jaw dropped.“Jesus Christ—what a Creature of you” Without wasting another minute, she creaked open the driver's door. Words evaporated from Breanna's mouth just before she started the car. “Since they won’t let the badge through the door, then we don’t walk in as detectives—rather, something else.” The car doors clicked shut and Sophia gripped the steering wheel, zooming away. ☆☆𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦☆☆ Sophia sat stiff in the chair, eyes locked on Breanna, as the artist gave her makeover. “All done” the lady announced giving her a final touch on the lips Brea
𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°° ☆☆☆𝐄𝐥 𝐎𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐨☆☆☆ Two hulking bouncers in black suits flanked the entrance, arms crossed—carved out of muscle and concrete. Breanna strode up first, Sophia stalking a step behind. With shoulders squared before the guardians of the entrance, She yanked her badge from her coat, flashing it like an access card. “Detective Breanna Stewart, Homicide Division. We’re going inside.” The taller of the two men glanced down at the badge, then at her, dragging hollow eyes momentarily at Sophia.“Clowns” His lip curled, almost a smile but he didn’t move—arms remained crossed. The other bouncer didn’t even bath an eye, he rather gestured to the crowd at the ropes to check in. “Didn’t you hear her?” Sophia piped up, indignant. “We’re conducting a walkthrough. Step aside.” “Not tonight, Detective.” The tall bouncer's voice dropped—gravel. “I didn't ask.” Breanna puffed at his audacity, “We’re walking through—Now” Sh
Breanna’s jaw shifted at the abrupt hang of the call—but then she brushed it off, concentrating on the road.After a while she turned her head to the passenger seat. Sophia perched smugly there, her knees drawn slightly up—tablet balanced and glowed softly on her lap. Breanna exhaled slowly, and Sophia tilted her chin in recognition. With lips pressed in a barely contained grin, she met eyes cold as carved marble—Breanna’s. There was a pause, just long enough to feel the weight of dissatisfaction. She blinked, her smile dimming. Breanna’s glare meant she was unimpressed. “You said we needed a window,” She began, her voice a little unsteady.“So I established a federal liaison. That way, we can conduct a safety walkthrough—without triggering protocol.” “Federal liaison… by faking a bomb threat.” Breanna’s voice came out flat and impassive—a facade she used to mask the pride swelling in her chest. Sophia’s face dropped in disappointment. “I’m sorry Ma’am. You wa
𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬*** “Page twenty-three—signed by ‘M,’” Antonio tapped a page in the ledger. Voice outrightly composed. “Shipment through Matamoros. You owed me thirty on arrival, but you wired twenty-five.” Victor and Cesar bent over, staring at their own ledger—a thick, grimy book with handwritten entries, inked in red and black. “Shipment 0131-L. We received twenty-five of that order—nothing more.” Victor jabbed their page, while Cesar nodded in rhythm. “What do you mean?” Antonio curled a brow in confusion. He skeptically cross-checked his ledger, and tilted his head in disapproval. “This book is my Bible” he taps on the open page, eyeing them squarely. “Whatever is in it…is my commitment. Crossed number means paid. Blank space means debt—someone still owes. Five crates are blank.” Kiktor—Victor Loa's Consigliere—leaned forwar
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