God Of Crime Strongest Mafia Boss Novels & Stories

“Let him know that I called, okay?” “Yes.” Christian replied before Gabriel hung up. His mind was still in-between two rocks when the door to his study was thrown wide opened as a man in his thirties walked in, claded in a cream suit and white hat. He had dragon tattoos all over the side of his neck and on the lips of his mouth was a thin stick of cigar which he puffed heavily on. Riel was his name. The leader, the most ruthless mafia gang in the mafia world and also his freaking business partner.

Big Jim said, his fingers drumming on the desk. "Let me have her." The two men stared at each other across the desk. I could feel the tension crackling between them like electricity. John's jaw was set, determined. Big Jim's eyes were calculating, weighing his options. Finally, Big Jim leaned back in his chair and smiled that horrible smile again. "You'll do Italy and Rome," he said slowly. "And she's yours. Debt paid." Relief flooded through me for just a second. But then Big Jim kept talking.

“Come on, you don’t know that for sure. Besides, I know the boss wouldn’t do that to a kid. If anything, he probably rescued that child and is trying to set him up in a proper home. You’re definitely wrong about the boss.” “We are talking about the same man, right? Angelo Manzini, the notorious godfather known and feared everywhere for his ruthlessness…; that Angelo? Don’t be naïve, Skinner; something is definitely wrong here and we have to save this boy from that crazy boss of yours.” Moira repeatedly poked Skinner in the chest with a finger as she spoke.

“If you continue this downward spiral, Solonik could take over as the Godfather. You fucking know that. He has been looking for every opportunity to do so, and now you are giving him an invitation.” The Russian Mafia consisted of four families. The Ivanshovs, Pirro, Beccari, and Votto. Each family had their own Boss, but I was the Boss of them all. The Godfather. The other families were underneath the Ivanshovs. But Solonik had wanted to take over. If Damian hadn’t handed this empire over to me, he would have been the Pakhan a long time ago. And now he was looking for another opportunity, only because I’d proved myself weak.

The man couldn't even look at Gabe. He breathed out and folded the letter that his employee passed to him. "I'll wire you money to use for your medication. Make sure you heal and come back here healthier," Gabe said. She was surprised. Her eyes were glued at him. Her heart was pounding—she was melting. Have you ever been amazed by someone's kindness? Well, it was her first time to admire someone. Gabe Clyborne—a Mafia boss. He's far from what he knows about him. They said he's cold-hearted. No, he's not. Just right now, Larisa proved it and witnessed it with her own eyes.

Just then, we hear Neo starting to approach, there are two other voices, and a brief gun battle starts. I hear a thug trying to wrestling Neo down. “Look at this goddamn idiot. Walking straight into our hands.” “Who is you goddamn idiot.” “This is fucking hilarious,” The thug bursts out in laughter, “Our new mafia boss has the dumbest crew members.” They are creating a long enough distraction to get us in. “Let's go.”

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.

The mafia side built empires on the things those systems couldn't see. By 7:45 I was in the Maybach again, heading to the Bronx warehouse. Marco drove silent. I scrolled messages ,rival moves in Queens, a shipment delay in Jersey, a name I hadn't heard in years Enzo Bianchi surfacing in whispers.I closed the tablet. Some ghosts you didn't chase. You waited for them to come to you.Warehouse district smelled of rust and salt water. Luca waited outside the loading dock, cigarette between his fingers."Boss," he said, falling in step. "Everything's accounted for. No leaks.""Good."Inside crates stacked high, men in black jackets unloading discreetly. I walked the rows, checking seals. One crate h

I gave her a hard stare before leaving the room. It was time to deal with the incompetence of my men. I expected the Martin's to try something funny and I prepared for it—thought I did. How could they have been so foolish? Suddenly, a call came in. It was from Santos, the man in charge of the the dark flood (Alluvione Oscura) mafia's businesses at the Bronx. "Boss, I have news." "Spill." "The deal with the Moreli's have been sealed. A good thing for us, especially now."

“You’re leaving for Italy. Your name stays Jay. You’re the perfect person for this mission.” Jay exhaled slowly and accepted the documents. He glanced at the file — photos, notes, mafia profiles. One name stood out: Rafael “Rafe” Bianchi. The mafia boss of Milan, infamous for his ruthlessness, his dominance, and… apparently, his taste in men. The assistant appeared with a small suitcase. “Your things are here. And you’ll need to change your appearance for the mission,” she said.