About Mafia Novels & Stories

I glared at him and turned to run up the stairs. I got to my room, slammed the door shut, and locked it. I picked up the laptop from the study table and searched for the word that was bothering me the most. “Mafia” Hesitantly, I clicked on the first search result that pulled up and started to read everything about it. Mafia is an informal term that is used to describe a criminal organization that bears a strong similarity to the Sicilian Mafia... Mafias often engage in secondary activities such as gambling, loan sharking, drug trafficking, prostitution, and fraud...

“You… seem to really like our boss. So even if I tell you the truth, I don’t think you’ll believe it.” “I’ll believe it.” Something about the look in Araceli’s eyes told her she already knew. Paula sighed. “He’s part of the mafia. Actually, he’s not just a pear. He’s the don.” Araceli swallowed. “Can you explain what that means?” “The mafia’s a criminal organization,” Paula said quietly. “They’re involved in everything—drugs, weapons, trafficking. They control businesses. Politicians. Judges.” “And… murder?” Araceli whispered.

I gritted my teeth and mustered all the energy in the world to push Bennett away and thank God I did. "What do you mean by that?" He snapped and grabbed my arm again, a little more harsher and tighter. "I wouldn't disrespect me here Miss Stiles. This is not a place to cuss around. This isn't Seattle neither is this Los Angeles. You walked into my Mafia den and..." "Mafia?" My eyes widened and I blinked. "I thought it was a gang thing...but a Mafia?" I was not stupid neither was I foolish. I knew what the Mafia did. Well, not really did but the books I've read said a lot and they were real. They didn't play cards or run around in circles. They shot, tortured, kill and traffick women and child

“The place I sent him to might take him in as a child but once he starts to grow and they go to look around and dig deep for information involving his family or where he came from then that's when they'll find out that he is from the Russian mafia.” “They're not friends?” I chuckled at her innocent question as she blinked in confusion. “You amaze me sometimes. Friends? Mafias don't make friends with each other. If for anything they always wage wars and launch attacks on each other all the time just to see who is the greatest and the strongest. It's like a power tussle and it will never let them ever get along with each other” “When you say it like that then it makes them look stupid in my ey

I turned my attention again to him as he started in a very dominated deep voice. ' I am a Devil. The owner of this mansion and all the men and women working here Works for me... You know what mafia is?' I shook my head in no. I don't know what is this mafia. He sighs and continued. ' Well, the mafia is a big organization which does some... I mean all illegal works. We are all bad peoples, really bad. And I am their boss. That's enough for your little pretty head'

“Wait. Moretti Moretti?” Riva frowned. “You know him?” “Are you—are you serious right now?” another friend asked, wide-eyed. “He’s Ares Moretti. That family runs half the illegal shit across borders. Mafia. Guns. Casinos. Black money. People disappear when they breathe wrong around them.” Riva’s stomach dropped. “You mean he’s like… actual mafia?” “Actual. Untouchable. Lethal. And you—” Nia looked her up and down. “What the hell did you do to end up in his car?”

He finally closed the folder and looked up, his grey eyes sharp and completely emotionless. “The mafia isn’t just crime,” Ragnar continued as he leaned back slightly in his chair. “It’s a system.” Lance frowned faintly, but Ragnar kept speaking before he could respond. “Drugs, weapons, money laundering, trafficking, assassinations, political influence… every piece of filth that runs through the world has people like us controlling it.” His voice remained calm, almost bored. “Governments pretend to fight us. Police pretend to chase us. Meanwhile half of them take our money behind closed doors.”

My father beamed with pride. The walk back to the office was quiet. The Russian Mafia is not to be fucked with. Our mafia is ranked one of the most powerful, along with the Italians, but the Russian Mafia easily has us outnumbered. They’re allied with the French mainly, and those two mafias on their own car devour us. I entered the office and made my way to the sofa, while my father sat behind his desk, his hand still on his chin. A pose he often does when he’s thinking.

Our situation turned upside down, papa was the only bread winner of the house, we weren't too rich but lived a comfortable life. Mama had to struggle a lot after papa's death to raise us, we requested the mafia for compensation, hundreds of men die every year for the mafia, they don't care much for the lives lost or the broken families. They know if they loose one man, then 3 more are standing in queue to take that position.

I had an entire white Mercedes Benz left for me while the others took the cars they came with. Since I was still dumbstruck, Knife had given orders to have me driven back home. I noticed my men were scared or me as they bustled me into the car and rushed out into the highway. The mafia. Leaning forward with my hands clasped to form a triangle, I took my time to evaluate the situation I'm in. The mafia. I've read a lot about them; even watched movies made about them. From my little knowledge about the Mafia, they're a criminal organization that makes money illegally, especially by threatening people and dealing in drugs. Most at times they have great control in politics and power.