Beauty And The Mafia Beast Novels & Stories

Knowing that there was no other person I would rather spend my happily ever after with. The end of my story. Me being the Beauty… Luca Costello being my Beast. THE END

Of course Christopher Henry Jameson—also known as Beast- wasn't the average man. He stood 6'5" and weighed three hundred and two pounds. He didn't like the extra three pounds. He rather liked being in the two hundred weight range even if it was by just one or two pounds. Regardless, there wasn't an ounce of fat on his perfect body. Beast was muscles on top of muscles, yet not hulking like some of the others that worked in the Marine Corps division assigned to The Department of Home Land Security, or better known as DHS. Too big made you slow. He'd seen guys bigger than him hospitalized during the CRUCIBLE training.

After that, I'm not sure what to do. "The Beast Oracle is only a legend...Not a real being...right," she whispers, and I growl as the disrespectful term leaves her beautiful lips. Hurt and betrayal whip through my mind. My mate is just like all of them. We fight and die so they can live in peace and safety, but we are called beasts.

The very notion sent a hot wave rolling through her, and she smiled, but then an edge of apprehension caused her stomach to clench. “Don’t I look awful?” she asked, feeling her face, the bandage, and then her head where her hair had been cut by the burn unit to save her scalp. “Mira,” he whispered, pecking her in between each word. “You are beautiful. I’m hard for you.” He took her hand and placed it over the bulge beneath his slacks, breathing his final statement, “I want to fuck you. Let me make you feel good. Let me help you forget all this shit you are going through, at least for a little while.”

He answered. His words made total sense. As simple as he looked, he was wise and very accurate with his intuitions. "So what's your decision father. We both know that when you cross the damn river there is no point of return." I reminded him. "Damon, That Beast is searching for a breeder. A bond and mate. If luckily Hera proves herself worthy and its instinct is drawn fully to her, it won't harm her. I don't want to think the worst that's why I still have a ray of hope that she is still alive and being kept well." He answered.

I put my hand in my pockets as I stared at her while she walked up the stairs. Mama scoffed, making me look at her. "So, what your sister told me was true," she said, making me move my eyes to Imani. Imani folded her hands, staring at me with that fucking boldness I want so bad to smack off her face. "You have a white tramp who bewitched you," Mama said. "Uh huh." Imani supported. I looked at her and gritted my teeth. "I am so disappointed in you, boy," Mama said, making me look at her.

My mother, Keenan. I can't leave them, I must get back. So once again I push myself one last time and when the beast's head is close to mine, I lash out and bite just bellow his right ear. He whines from pain but still doesn't release me. He then turns his head up and howls and then soon later, six more wolves appear around us. I know that this fight is really over now. I won't escape the seven wolves, especially with my wounded legs. So I stop struggling. Now, my fight is over. But if not now, I will still find a way to get out.

One of the wolves steps up to me, growling for me to stop. A massive mansion appears nearby. It’s three stories high, dark, and painted-chipped with vines growing on it from years of no maintenance. Glass-stain windows display beautiful angel designs. It’s like the dark castle from Beauty and the Beast, and I’m Belle. Am I supposed to fall for the Beast? Can I change him from his ruthless ways? I laugh in my head at the thought. Yeah right.

"My wolf needs to pull himself together before we hit the kitchen. If your dad catches my frame looking like a wild swamp rogue, his brain is bound to think you are running around the territory lines with the wrong pack crowd." A bright grin tugs at Hailee’s lips. "Sure, my dad’s got some old-school ideas about the mafia world, but come on, Rapha—your beast has that cool but dangerous alpha vibe going for it anyway. His wolf will totally love you once his eyes see past the messy ink and dark mascara."

"My cousin Mira wrote to me about... about him." The way she says 'him' makes my skin prickle. "Alpha Stone?" She nods. "She says... Alora, are you sure you want to hear this?" "I need to know what I'm walking into." My voice comes out stronger than I feel. "Please." Sarah perches on the edge of my stripped bed. "They call him the Beast for a reason. Not just because of his size or strength, but..." She swallows hard. "He can scent emotions. Fear, desire, lies – especially lies. They say he punishes deception more harshly than any other offense."