Fat Sal Mafia Novels & Stories

They both looked malnourished and almost dead. " Why are you here again, you monster?" Marhoni asked weakly, over the past few weeks he had come to know exactly the kind of man Nahil was. He was more dangerous than they could ever Imagine, he deceived all of them by claiming to be just a mafia Lord but he was more dangerous than that. He was the head of the Mathux, a group that is dreaded in the whole of America because of its ruthlessness and they are involved in all activities and never let anyone get away from them. Massimo and Marhoni had crossed his bottom line and they would pay for it. " You don't seem happy to see me Marhoni," he said mockingly, sitting in front of them.

Lawrence showed up, eyeing his brother, who was still set on tormenting me. "Why do you always assume that I'm up to something?" He asked, feigning sadness as he turned to his brother. Lawrence gave a knowing look, not falling for his act. What most people don't know is that Bastian Saltzman is one of the biggest, most feared Mafia in the whole world. He's the leader of the Lucchese Mafia. The third most powerful Mafia. Not too long, he'll be taking second place. Lawrence wanted nothing to do with this type of business. He found his route and stuck with it.

He heard the second man ask. “Yes, she’s Alex personal assistant”. Those words clarified Alex suspicions. They’d intentionally targeted Maya knowing that she had a ‘connection ‘ with him. As Alex slowly approached the men, the black dragon tattoo at the side of their necks became visible as he scoffed. These were the Jensens. Mafia’s from Vladimir’s side. Ever since the incident of his father’s death, the Wolf’s and Jensens had become at war with eachother and sworn blooded enemies. Seeing that Vladimir was already sending his men out to him, it looks like he already got wind of his arrival in Russia. This was good. Alex thought.

In public, I would be Sammie Romo’s girl, but in private it would be strictly professional and if it took me five years, I was going to write the most informative, alarming, exciting story about the Mob that anyone had ever seen. I walked into Tony “Fat boy” Fattore’s dining room and found myself amongst Mafioso royalty. There were representatives from three different Borgata’s…or families in the city. There should be four, one was conspicuously absent. “There he is,” Tony said, pushing his failing body up out of his chair. I would have told him to stay there, but it wouldn’t have done any good. He

Nandini slapped her forehead at his language. “Shakal ordered something I need to eat as my dietician will suck my blood because Falcone warned her about her if I don’t gain weight…he will reward her for killing her.” Aspan was all happy as Nandini was coming back to herself. “Can’t you work without threatening anyone?” Phoebe disgusted “I am not saint but a Fucking mafia CAPO!” “Yeah Yeah a criminal.” Falcone smirked darkly at his childish behavior “Enough Boys!” and both gaped at Nandini who mentioned them as BOYS

The pretty but too thin creature knelt down and put his hands on his thighs as he bowed his head in obedience. "Another one of whatever he's having for him, bourbon straight for me,” Fat Tom said to the waiter who appeared. Once they were alone again, the fat feline finally introduced himself. "I am Gran Martelli of the Martelli Syndicate. Relax, I am not that Martelli. I'm his cousin. There are some odd things going down at my totally legit warehouse and I think I may have gotten tangled up in a big ball of yarn, if you know what I mean." Hades sighed. "Let me guess, you got into it with a Teffald or you got it on with a Teffald and your rival families are angry."

A headline crawled across the bottom of the screen: “Assailant Unknown. Mr. Volkov Declared Dead at the Scene. No Suspects in Custody.” I knew the mafia world had enemies, plenty of them. But this wasn’t random. I just knew it. This was mafia cleanup. And something in my gut told me… Asher had a hand in it. Maybe even Luca. Suddenly, the house felt cold. Too still. Too quiet. I backed away from the television, breathing shallow, body heavy. My fingers fumbled for the stove, switching it off as the smell of scorched butter crept into the air. My stomach churned.

I asked, noticing that smirk on his face. Matteo looked up at me, lifting his brow. “Not a she, sis. An enemy.” “An enemy?” “Yes. Guess who Damon’s new favourite bean pissed off on her first night at Arthdal Strike?” My patience ran out the window at his delay and Mateo must have sensed it as the next second he cleared his throat. “Luca Tadeo.” “Luca? Luca as in… the Luca?” “Yup. Word just got in concerning it. Apparently, they tried covering it up.”

I rolled my eyes as I adjusted myself back on the seat. “What are you?” I demanded. “I’m a man.” “Karl.” He grinned. “Okay, okay.” He sighed and leaned back. “I’m just… a right-hand man.” “That is the vaguest job description in history.” “I work with the mafia, love.” Silence stretched between us. My head was just blank. He turned to face me. “Massimo is a mafia boss. I’m his right-hand man.” The words came out way too casually. Like he’d just said he works in accounting. My mouth hung open. My brain rebooted twice. Oh my goodness.

His mere presence was enough. "You know what happens to those who steal from us," Alessandro finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "But you didn’t just steal. You sold names. Family names." "I didn’t mean to," the man gasped, his breath hitching. "It wasn’t supposed to go that far." Giovanni made a soft sound in his throat, a mix of a sigh and a growl. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows near the sacristy—the priestess.