Dad Are You In The Mafia นิยาย & เรื่องราว

" Yeah. What?" " I thought I'd lost you again, Gray. I had to leave Canada and come to New York when I heard you were shot and in a fatal accident with your girlfriend. Why can't you give up this life?" Mom sobs. Why's she acting like she didn't date a drug dealer. Nobody leaves the Mafia , what's their shit? Should I tutor them again? " So when are you leaving the Mafia? Gray you're gonna end up dead if you don't give up the mob. You've made a lot of money from the mafia, why not stop this bullshit and focus more on your girl." Damon says. They are pissing me off.

They were afraid to lose me. "I am so sorry, Mom." Then I hugged Dad. "I am so sorry, Dad. I thought you were the villain. But now I can say, dads, are always the heroes in the eyes of their daughters. You are my hero." Dad patted my back. "To fulfill Marco's wish, I made you join the mafia. He wanted you to be the most powerful gang leader in the world."

She mumbled to herself. Immediately, the door to her room flew open and her dad walked in, looking very furious. She suddenly stood up from the bed and made a curtly bow to her father. Her dad looked sixty, he had white beads and few white hairs. He is still the ruling don of the Gambino mafia. "What is this that I'm hearing, Alice?. You dare send our men to attack Zavi, are you crazy?Do you want to die?." Her head was still low, "I'm sorry, father."

Lea startled with furrowed eyes and if I'm not wrong I think she's hiding something from me. "Before leaving from France my father told me if ever I need some help, call Mr. Damon," I utter. "But what do you need?" Lea asked me, "we can give you anything just tell us," her face overwhelmed with worried expression. "No, that's not the matter, actually before coming to Sicily I found a strange information about my dad, it was documents in which was written that my father is a mafia and his actual name is Mr. Trinidad that's why I think maybe I should talk with Mr. Damon he might help me,"

I replied as I wiped my tears “Maybe he was right, you are a dangerous person and I am an innocent one. You know the difference between you and I? I save lives and you end lives. I can’t see how this will work out. It is best you stay away from me. LET ME BE ZACH WESTLEY” With no other word, I turned back to my door and walk into my house slamming the door at his face. Maybe if he was different, we could have made it. He is a mafia and a killer. He runs the Italian mafia for gods sake, that is nothing I can take lightly.

Liam asked "Long story will tell you after you tell me what you wanted to tell me," I said looking at dad "Vi we're in the Mafia" Dad blurted out "Well to be more correct I'm the leader of the American Mafia," Damian said "And I'm the leader of the Spanish Mafia but everyone calls me the king," Raphael said after that everything went quiet for a second, and then I laughed "Okay you should see your faces, I already knew that," I said as I laugh

And how will I face them? That night, I went to Dadi Jaan’s room. She looked slightly better, but pale. “Dadi Jaan,” I said softly. “Earlier you said you’d tell me later. Can you tell me now?” She gestured for me to sit beside her. I obeyed. “My child,” she whispered, “I don’t know much. He, your Dada Abbu was trying to tell me something before the heart attack. He managed to say only this: Our son Atiq is working with a mafia. He’s involved with dangerous people. Then… he collapsed.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. I have a reason for coming here. For obeying my father despite the thousands of why I could have thought of an escape if I wanted to. But of course Enzo doesn’t know that. “Ha. Ha. That’s hilarious,” I snapped. “You people have always had rules for women in the mafia. Get married. Have kids. Keep your mouth shut and play the perfect and dutiful housewife. You know what that feels like? A cafe.” He scoffed, lacing every word with disdain, “You people are only full of stupid choices. I won’t let my son fall into the same trap.”

“You don’t want the answer.” “Don’t tell me what I want.” I poured her a glass of water and set it on the desk between us. “The Mafia isn’t a charity, Lucia. It’s a war zone dressed up in Italian suits. Women die here just like men do. Sometimes faster.” “So they were all just… collateral?” I looked her dead in the eye. “Yes.” Her lips parted, disbelief written all over her face.

“It's an... interesting quality.” I looked at my father with indignation and realized that he viewed Alessandro with embarrassment. “Excuse my daughter; she was not raised under the ways of the Mafia,” my father said, and I gasped in surprise. “But—” “Shut your mouth. Chiara, I won't allow you to say another foolish thing,” my father told me sternly. “You behave disrespectfully, and Alessandro D'Amato is a signore (sir) of the Mafia. I won't tolerate any more offenses; don't embarrass me anymore.”