Novel & Cerita Books About The Italian Mafia

“Even before the birth of Master Reign, his father and his grandfather and his great grandfather and his…” “I get it.” I say quickly, fearing he might go on and on, if I let him. The man was a like young puppy. “So, the Rafe Mafia go way back many decades.” “Yes, ma’am. The Rafe Mafia is one of the most feared and respected cartels in Italy. We have ties all around the world.” That word ‘respected’ often translates to the most ‘hated’ in the mafia life. “So, the shipping company is just a ‘legal’ front for their shady business.” I conclude

Elena's Point Of View Few days ago. "Okay Mr Dominic Castellano" I said while I dropped a bunch of files on the metal desk that separated both of us. "It says here that you've been involved in multiple criminal activities" I mean it was obvious, With all those tattoos one can only imagine what a man like him was capable of— stay focused Elena. "Uhm—Drugs, illegal shipment, you've been locked up a couple of times for assault" "I didn't assault anyone" he said with his Icy deep voice that made my skin crawl.

He’d been silenced after trying to pull out of a deal with Diego. “De Luca tried to leave the Circle. And Diego had him executed,” Alex said. “That’s what I found in Carlo’s encrypted archive. That’s what Diego is trying to bury.” Sophia stared at the documents, the puzzle pieces snapping into place. “All this time,” she whispered, “he wasn’t trying to control the mafia. He was building something bigger. Global. Untouchable.” Alex nodded. “And we’re the last threat standing in his way.” Just then, one of the side doors opened, and Dominic entered, looking disheveled, his shirt streaked with mud and his knuckles bruised.

I knew how to satisfy both sides with, of course, having the upper hand. Romano handed me a file. It contained information about the people we just dealt with as well as their boss. It had only been an hour since the ambush yet Romano had gathered enough information about them. This was the exact reason why he was my right-hand man. They were a smaller organization; American but with Italian roots. “Did they think killing me would give them a foothold in the underworld?” I chuckled. There were a lot of Italian mafia in America. The smart ones worked together. The foolish ones tried to overthrow each other. It wasn’t hard to guess what category these ones fell into.

She closed her shop and moved away from Little Italy, wanting to start a new life far away from the dangerous world of the Mafia. She tried to put the past behind her and move forward, but the memories of Lance and her time with the Mafia haunted her. She could not forget the way he had used her and discarded her, the way he had played with her emotions and made her believe that they could make a diference together. She realized that she had been naive to think that someone like him could ever truly care for her.

I gritted, reaching the glass table centring the living room. “Their oyabun has been very persistent about finding the best routes to continue the annual race and please his protégés.” “What the fuck are they trying to do, anyway? They’re tight on men here in America. And instead of keeping their noses in Japan, they’re trying to mess with the Italian-American Mafia?” I snarled. “Anyway,” he stood before me, “I wouldn’t be too focused on them. We’ve got bigger problems.” Bigger problems. The Mafia had been in shambles for the past ten years, with no hope for a better future. That had been the biggest problem for years.

It was a text from Damon wishing me goodnight. ************** ~Trisha’s POV~ Sitting at the centre of the living room with a glass of red wine in my hand, I listened as my brother, Matteo, leaned back on the couch opposite me, his eyes scanning a thick stack of papers. “This is everything from the past quarter,” he said, tossing the documents onto the table between us. “Gianni’s businesses are clean on the surface, but I’m telling you, there’s something shady going on with their new shipping routes.”

My men yelled at me and we instantly retreated, while still pointing a gun at him and his men, we ran to our car and drove off at a high speed. "Khloe, you are a mad woman," Diego said as he tried to catch his breath. I bursted into laughter at the way he struggled to breathe. "And you are a woman, why were you so scared, Diego?" I said to him as I unwrapped my arm. "Because Uncle said we shouldn't go after the diamond, remember it's theirs - we stole from them twice!" Diego said, referring to my father. My father, the former head of the Italian Mafia group, had handed me the title of Queen of the Mafias. Of course, he wouldn't like me going after the diamonds, but they belonged to my late m

Because my story had no knight, and it certainly wasn’t a fairytale. Girls like me ended up with psychotic, obsessive men named Stefano. You know the type. They sweep you off your feet, then try to control every aspect of your life. About a month into our relationship, I found out that Stefano was involved in the Italian mafia. A few years ago, I didn’t even think the mafia was a real thing. Now, it seemed like my life was overrun with mobsters. And it wasn’t glamorous. I knew relatively soon that I couldn’t be a part of that lifestyle.

“We’ll stop at my girl’s before Riccardo. The tire’s ruined anyway. That bastard shot it.” He lifted his phone. “Tell the boss his son’s here. Bring backup.” I closed my eyes. The car reeked of blood and smoke. Despair sat heavy in my chest. The Colombo. Everyone knew their reputation. They were the rot of Cosa Nostra. Dishonest, vile, feeding off the trade the other families despised. Flesh for profit. Girls stolen and broken. Faces flashed in my mind.The missing girls plastered across the news, smiling in photographs. Smiles that would never return.