Almighty Imperial Gangsters Novels & Stories

Then I built again, climaxing anew, calling out his name. “Alex….” I lay on the bed breathless, exposed from head to toe. I watched him ease himself out of his clothes, revealing his smoky hot body. I always knew gangsters had a different physical appearance from normal people, but this was way too much, even for me. As he stripped down, revealing every inch of himself, I mean, every dam inch. I felt my jaw drop to the floor. I mean, seriously, I've seen cucumbers smaller than that thing!

I could feel her hesitation in her voice. " We can argue later. Hit me on my head. " I said to her. " You can pretend. " She said. " He is Duante Rego, The Mafia Emperor. He will easily get this. " I heard footsteps increasing, " He's coming. Do it fast. Give both guns to Duante. You know the summary. " I said. She nodded and hit me with the back of the gun on my head. I felt hot red blood, dripping down. It got black all of a sudden as I hit the ground.

His father released a breath and nodded before pulling his hand away with a frown. “ Get some rest Armani, before you fall on your face!” his father spoke sharply. Armani blinked, trying to understand the change in his father’s demeanor that had just happened now. He held his father’s gaze for a few seconds before he sighed. This was the Diego Steele that spoke and people trembled. The Italian- American Mafia head who was feared by all. Gone was the vulnerable man who had spoken to him few minutes ago. “ Yes sir.” He replied, leaving the room.

He knew Billy was into Rose so there was no way he could let other gangsters take her away. “Punk, loud words you have there. You have no idea who I am.” The gangster glared at Gavin, trying to scare him off. Gavin narrowed his eyes and swung a slap at the gangster’s face. “I don’t care who the hell you are! Get out of my face!” Slap! The gangster was slapped. “You bastard! How dare you slap Brother Leath?!” The other gangsters clamored. Gavin rolled up his sleeves to reveal his muscles and said proudly, “I don’t care if he’s Heath Ledger or Leath Hedger. Do you know who my master is? Leave or I will break your bones!”

Victor's Pov I stood amidst my loyal comrades. We were a mafia gang, known for our ruthlessness and cunning. Tonight, we were preparing ourselves for a fierce battle, armed to the teeth with guns and knives. The air was heavy with tension as we checked our weapons, ensuring they were loaded and ready for the impending clash. The metallic clang of guns being loaded echoed through the dimly lit warehouse. I, being the main boss, stepped forward, a hardened expression etched on my face. My dark eyes surveyed the room, meeting the determined gazes of my loyal men. Their presence reassured me; we were a force to be reckoned with.

I rolled my eyes. Alfonso was a gangster; mafia would have suited him best but whatever. He was mostly involved in gambling and drug trafficking. He was known to be cold and ruthless. He had gained himself the name, ‘Iceman’, as he would show no emotion while torturing people who wronged him. I couldn’t believe they wanted me to lie to this man.

Shayan's jaw was clenched tightly, his face a mask of cold determination. Though his expression remained blank, internally, he was like a volcano ready to erupt. The sight of the guns in the goons' hands didn't intimidate him; after all, he led a powerful gang himself.

My phone rang, making me release her. She coughed, grasping for air as I picked up my phone. Ricco is the dialer. I took the call. "Sup?" "OG." "What's going on?" I asked, taking notice of his dull voice. "Them Jerkins boys, OG. They are at it again." Motherfuckers. "What they do this time?" I asked as Imani got on her feet and headed towards the stairs. I stared at her as she walked. "They burnt two malls in the hood."

“You ended it.” Leo stepped forward and embraced his real father for the first time — a long, fierce hug that carried decades of stolen time. As the group stood among the ruins of the old estate, Leo made his declaration. “I’m not taking the Don’s seat. Not as Rossi. Not as Moretti. We dissolve the old titles. New structure. A council of the surviving capos who swear to reform — no more Council of shadows, no more endless wars. We go legitimate where we can. We protect our people. We end the old cycles. And anyone who wants out… gets to walk.”

One gangster that is holding a silver-colored baseball bat has blocked their way. He puffed smoke before speaking. “It’s late. Weak people like you should not be walking at this hour.” His mouth reeks as he vulgarly talk. “And you have women with you.” “Maybe they have not known about the existing war. These weaklings looked as if they had just surface from the cave they had hibernated,” says by another fat, tattooed gangster who just came into the view. Trying not to show who they are calling weak, Alpha Lachlan mildly uttered, “Can you please tell us, Sir what is going on?” His voice sounded fragile.