Falling For The Mafia Don Romane & Geschichten

I whispered, tears prickling my eyes. "How the great have fallen." A voice so cold sliced through the air. "The great Gabriel Russo, Don of the Miami Mafia, beaten up and blood soaked, on his knees. Now what do I call this?"

I argued, but the tremble in my voice gave me away. “I’m not,” he whispered. “I loved her. I would have given her anything. But she wanted everything. She wanted to be the wife of the big, bad mafia Don, so I let her. And she let him put a child in her.” My heart was beating even faster than usual.

"You don’t make the choices; I do, and whenever it is fine for me, I will make you pay. But listen up, Macerio Johnson, no matter how much you run, you can’t hide from me. I will tear the entire earth up just to find you, and this I am serious about." We're clear about that?" Nathan’s face grudgingly let go of him; he threw the knife toward his pills and turned his back. "Do you think you’ve won, just like that?" He looked fumingly at Nathan while his teeth gnashed angrily against themselves. His hands violently on his chest, he hung his head below and continued. "In the Mafia world, there is no damn winner!" He completed his statement as his vision blurred immediately and, more so, his hear

she was trembling, “It's not like I'm important, no one would miss me anyway, my parents are too busy sniffing…” “That's not the point.” “Then what is?” I stood up and removed my clothes, “The point is the man has ties to the mafia, didn't you know this?” “Why would I ?” I placed my t-shirt over my head. “I forgot you don't pay attention to anything but your fool of an ex I*******m.” “Hey…” I threw the pillow at her, “Keeping it real, now let's go downstairs and celebrate the fact that you still have your life.” She dragged me by the hand.

“Those are the index fingers or should we say trigger fingers of all your men you kept to guard you. I must say you should do better next time… if there would be one.” Jeff's head dropped on his chest. He had never been in this situation and didn’t have the slightest idea how to handle it. It was always him at the other side of the table. “I don’t have all night anyway,” Francisco stood up, taking the gun with him “where is the girl?” “What girl?” Francisco hit Jeff in the jaw with his fist, sending him straight to the floor in pains. “I don’t have any girl!” Jeff yelled, still on the ground holding unto his jaw.

In a flash, the driver rambled an apology and ignited the engine. It was always a ritual to remind him though he already knew he had to ignite the entire. I love being assertive and controlling towards other people. I wanted people to quiver just by the mere mention of my name on their lips. Fuck, I was Stefano Morelli, the capo dei capi of the most powerful Italian American mafia. People were supposed to cower by my feet. I love the fear and power that came with my appearance. The limousine drove on the busy California road with my capos closely tailgating at me.

"Then take it to the Don. Family rules." His jaw clenched, but that fake tough guy look stayed plastered on. "What, you wanna settle this in secret?" I dropped the pen, stared him down. "You forget who you married? I'm not some deli guy's kid." "This was a mafia deal from the jump," Sofia chimed in, smirking. "If you're tapping out, better get the Don's blessing." Damon gulped. Sweat slid down his face. Yeah, he hadn't thought this through.

My parents came all the way from a small town in Texas to New York just to talk about our wedding plans. But my fiancé—the Rossi family's Don—was late. My mom smiled, trying to comfort me. "Traffic's probably just bad. It's okay, your dad and I can wait a bit longer." That "wait" lasted three hours. I called him a fifth time before he finally picked up. Marcello didn't even sound apologetic. "Someone broke into Valerie's apartment. She's terrified and won't stop crying. I have to stay and calm her down." I went quiet. This wasn't the first time. Valerie always found some excuse to drag Marcello away from me, and Marcello always gave me the same line: "She's like a little sister to me. Stop

“And the Don isn’t called the god of death for nothing, princess. I decide who gets to scream my name in pleasure… or in pain.” Don? The single word crashed over me like a bucket of ice water even as my pussy clenched hard around his fingers. “You’re… you’re a mafia boss?” I whispered, shock and raw terror flooding my veins. He tilted his head, studying my face like a predator savoring prey. “Tell me, princess… does that scare you? Knowing the man knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt is the king of the underworld”

"It's just a scratch. Nothing serious." I felt upset and heartbroken at the same time, seeing blood seeping through his bandages. I snapped, "Can you rein in that spoiled bravado of yours? This isn't some lawless era anymore. You can't solve everything with your fists!" Vicenzo suddenly grabbed my hand. Grievance filled his gaze when he said, "They called you an old hag, Freya. Said you weren't fit to be the Donna of the Corleone famiglia. I couldn't just do nothing."