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He slapped me across my face that a red liquid started flowing out of my nose. I was bleeding. I bot my lower lip and face him again. There was no use talking to people like him. My father probably sent him to kill me. "How was it living with an addict psychopath and a mafia lord? Was it fun? Was it wild?" My head snap towards the man's direction. His voice sounds of mocking as he walk in front of me. I was still on the floor, fighting for my life because of the pain he sent me. I can't understand a word coming from him. He was telling me a lot of things. About an addict psychopath who killed many women. A mafia lord who kills innocent life for money.

Chiara Moretti Alessandro stared down at me, his jaw tight. "You say that now," he said, and took a step toward me. "But you do not understand what you are asking for, Chiara. The mafia world is not a boardroom. It is not about signing papers or making smart investments. It is a world built on blood, loyalty, and extreme violence. It is filled with people who will not hesitate to cut your throat just to send a message."

“You have no idea who the fuck you are talking to right now. I ought to whip you until you bleed for this disobedient and disrespectful outburst.” Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry as it hung open. Not at his threats but rather the vclaim that he made—his words echoing in her mind. The mafia king? As in the leader of the vicious MMM group from Karachi? Never in a million years had Anissa thought that she would be facing the leader of the most powerful mafia in the country. The identity of the leader of the mafia was kept hidden from the public but his malicious and merciless killings and acts were infamous throughout the country. Anissa wasn’t that much of a news person or a socialite

"....... Owning powers over his family's companies and numerous power plants wasn't enough. He wanted more and everything he could lay his hands on. He's rumored to be known as the second coming of the devil himself because of his cruel ways of dealing with people below him...... " " Ah, Maddy? " I called, hoping to catch her attention this time. The last thing I wanted was actually spending the rest of my two hours of shift listening to her lame mafia story. Maddy's eyes crosses mine, a sheepish grin crossing her lips this time before she slowly shifted on the bar stool she sat on across the bar table from me. " You know I'm not buying your mafia story anymore , Maddy, especially not tonigh

“Tell me about my grandfather.” “Chiara,” Dante said, the warning in his voice was clear, yet Chiara refused to back down. “If you’re not going to tell me that, tell me why I’m dangerous to you.” “Chiara, just drop it.” Though the warning was more prominent, Chiara still refused to back down. “If you aren’t going to answer them,” She paused, watching him closely for a reaction. When she saw none, she continued speaking. “What do you do for a living? It has to be something illegal if you could access guns and even shoot Nico without flinch—“

Her brown eyes glow with desperate curiosity at the mention of the word ‘Mafia’. “So, would you say you relate to your Female Lead in any way?” The Interviewer asks, blinking in pure intrigue as she gets herself ready to latch and hang onto Gabi's every word, “Would you say that you have also found your own Mr. Danger? Your own Mafia Man to seduce him into falling head over heels in love with you? Do you have any real life experiences with the kind of men you write about, Miss Fraser?” Gabi laughs. God, I hate that laugh!

Unfortunately this was nothing new in a family that worshipped him as if he was the lord himself, and rightfully so. Grandpa Fanucci had come to the country without a single penny, and grandma had followed him with all of their twelve children. Together with his eldest son, my dad, Domenic Fanucci, he had managed to build a vineyard from scratch, then a brewery, then a brand, then some more businesses, both legal and illegal, and had somehow grown into one of the largest mafia in the East Coast. The Fanuccis ran this city, and everyone in it. Every neighborhood, every store, every tile on the street belonged to us—and it was because of my deceased grandfather, and Domenic Fanucci, that our e

The estate includes a landscaped courtyard for tastings and gatherings. Whispers and rumors about the Russo family circulate in the wine world. I’ve heard crazy things—claims of immense wealth, ruthless tactics to stay at the top, raising their young to be bloodthirsty monsters, involvement in kinky sex, and even the curious rumor that the men spank their women. Despite their criminal ties, my business _ my money. The undertakers have a strong sense of morals, a mysterious brotherhood with a code that involves using their underground businesses to take from the rich and give to the poor.

“Because once I tell you who I am, there’s no going back.” “I want the truth,” she says. “Who are you?” “I am connected to an ancient mafia family,” I tell her. “We began in Rome a long time ago, to fight against police corruption. Over the years, we expanded and took on new business interests. I handle certain American operations.” I could tell her more, but I stop there. This is enough to see how she reacts. Will she panic? Or will she stay? She nods slowly, then meets my gaze. “Did you kill those men last night? Don’t lie to me, I’ll know. Did you?”

The men were still there. And the black car was still parked in front of my house. Great. Just great. What had I done? I was troublesome, yes. I knew that. But as far as I was aware, I'd never offended any rich person. At least, not that I could remember. ******** [Roman's POV] After landing in this weird town, I realized they didn't even have an airport. An airport. How was that even possible? So undeveloped. We arrived at the so-called therapist's home, and my third-in-command went to meet her while I remained in the car. I couldn't see her face properly, but from what I could see from their interactions, she wasn't budging.