Don’t Mess With The Mafia Heiress Novels & Stories

Did that mean that… nah, he was getting married to me for the contract. Viola kept talking about Leah and how she disliked her guts, not sparing the poison incidence. “Why hasn’t she been arrested yet?” I inquired. “Massimo would handle it,” Viola responded. Was Leah also from an untouchable mafia family? My stomach grumbled, and I rubbed at it with my palm. “I’m famished,” I admitted. Viola ordered the driver to take us to a restaurant. The moment we took our seats, a waiter approached us, dressed in a white shirt and black pants.

I knew instantly these were the dangerous mafia men. Just then I saw a girl in one corner of the room with a man. She looked about my age and she was being groped by a man covered in ugly ink. He squeezed her breasts and slapped her bare ass while she forced a smile. My body shook. This is my life now, I thought. The man who brought me scanned the room. The Don wasn’t there. He walked up to a scarred man near the bar. “Where is Don Cortez?” “He got an urgent call from the port,” the man replied. “He’ll be back soon.”

The heir to a mafia family, Aurelio Bianchi, had a new lover who was a pure and innocent college student. When the news reached Sofia Marino, she was kneeling on the velvet carpet of a luxury boutique, fitting shoes for a wealthy woman. A coworker held a phone in front of her, showing a photo from a gossip tabloid. Surprisingly, the usually arrogant Aurelio had gone into a noisy pizza shop in Dunmere with that young woman. He turned slightly to shield her from the crowd, his expression full of undisguised affection.

But there’s no time. “What do we know about the niece?” I ask as we climb into the car. “Not much. She’s eighteen, a senior in high school. Red hair, blue eyes.” “Anything else?” “Straight A’s. Doesn’t date.” “Doesn’t date?” I raise a brow. “Yup. No boyfriend. No drama.” What teenage girl in America doesn’t date? Weird. But she’s a mafia princess, so maybe not that weird. We arrive at Sal’s house around 3 p.m.

In the fifth year of my secret marriage to Dante Greco, a notorious Los Angeles mafia heir, I became pregnant. While I was at the family hospital for a prenatal checkup, I happened to see Vivienne Sarti's Instagram. "He says I'm still pretty even when I'm pregnant!" In the photo, she was lying lazily in a man's arms. My chest tightened at once. On his finger was the lion-head ring worn by the Greco Don. I tapped the "Like" button. Seconds later, Vivienne called me. "Ana, I wasn't trying to upset you. I was—" Before Vivienne could finish, Dante snatched the phone from her. "Anna Reid, who gave you permission to monitor our social media accounts? I've explained it to you plenty of times. We gr

Five years ago, I took the blame for every crime my family had committed and was thrown out of Black City like a stray dog. Five years later, I returned as the Donna—the head of Raven, one of the world's most powerful mafia organizations. Only to find that my family had been framed and destroyed, and our stronghold burned to the ground. In an abandoned slaughterhouse, blood ran across the floor. Isabella, the arrogant heiress of the newly powerful Leoni family, was grinding her red-soled heel into my cousin Marco Franco's face. "You Franco piece of trash. Kneel and beg me, be my dog, and I'll toss you a scrap of food." Blood ran from Marco's nose and mouth, but he clutched the Zippo lighter—

Back in El Tricolor, there's a rule: If I don't get married by thirty, I have to go back and marry the woman my father arranged for me. When my girlfriend, Stella Ross, heard this, her face filled with complete disdain. "Arranged marriage? Is your home in some remote tribe? Or are you stuck in the Middle Ages? Alan, quit with these pathetic excuses to force a marriage!" She let out a mocking laugh and pulled out a ring. "I was actually planning to accept your proposal and even bought us a pair of rings. But since you're so desperate, I think we both need some space to cool off." With that, she tossed the ring straight to her assistant, Ethan Parker. The marriage I had waited years for w

"Mafia wealthy means you own the building where people eat, the lot where trucks park, the concrete they pour, and the street they drive it on. Velvet is just dinner people see, House is what we keep. We have more than you think” She nodded against me. "Few months ago I had 300 dollars and thought my dad made a mistake. Now you fire an inspector without police and pay a family with an envelope in same day." "For city, filing. For family, envelope," I said. "Both. Same as house and Tower. Both." We got home, Yellow hallway light on. Marco's soup still warm. Her mugs on her dresser. She sat on the edge of her small bed, boots off, bare feet on my shoes like she did after Caruso blocked our fro

All his life he'd worked hard for it and now he had a stable stand as the don of one of the world's most famous Russian Mafia. Gianna Moira Donovan is unlucky when it comes to love. She vows to never throw herself into the said pond of heartbreak after severe fallout with her childhood sweetheart. But a clash between a Mafia don and a Donovan in unfavorable conditions spirals despise and loss of hope to something else. Something agreeable? Something horrible?

Lorenzo glared at Rafael. "What do you want?" He hissed, eyeing the two unfamiliar men in white overalls. Rafael smirked, "I'm here to reclaim what's mine. And also take what's yours." Lorenzo furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" He asked. Rafael chuckled, pulling out a cigar out of his pocket, lit it, then put it in his mouth. He inhaled the smoke. "Your family took what belonged to my family. The American Mafia. And now I'm here to take it back and also rule over the Italian Mafia." He said after he had puffed the smoke out his lungs.