Handsome Mob Novels & Stories

You didn't reply. Mob Boss????: Yes. Olivia: ??? Olivia: Yes, to what? Mob Boss????: Yes, to both of your questions. Olivia: So, you are Ash, aka the mob boss? Mob Boss????: Yes. Olivia: And you used your real name and photo of yourself? Mob Boss????: Yes. Olivia: Are you f*cking dumb Olivia: It's like putting a bold red target on your forehead. Why not use a fake name and photo

He took a bottle of shampoo and put a small amount of it on my head and helped me in washing my hair. "Hmm. So how was your day?" I asked him as I closed my eyes trying to enjoy the little massage he is giving me. "Nice." He said. "It wasn't. You were angry, then later you fought the men. So tell me what's nice about it." I reminded him. "I got to fight, at least." He told me. "Fight? Are you a thug?" "No, I am a mobster and I derive pleasure from it." He confessed.

There he was—Dante Bellandi—standing tall, surrounded by armed men scurrying to carry out his commands without question. He radiated authority. Every inch of him spoke of dominance—the chiseled features, the stormy expression, the arrogance of a man who knew the world bent to his will. The wind had tousled his dark hair, and the scruff lining his jaw only sharpened the brutal elegance of his face. He looked like a pagan god among mortals.

He was one of the tallest people I had ever met, cruelly handsome, and his tattoos peeked under his shirt—chest area and wrists. He had veins in his palms and his muscles seemed to want to bulge out of his shirt. His skin was a rich olive tan, just like the richness of his voice. I could not really tell the color of his eyes or some specific details about his face, but from what I could see… the gossips were right. However, this man looked like he could not give two shits about his looks, or anything apart from his position as the Mob Boss, actually. "You really are clueless if you think the cops had the guts to stop me." Owen's voice brought me back to the present, and then continued, "Now

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

His lips curved into a small smile and he put a hand on my back to guide me. I looked at Cami, who was in a similar position with Brunette. She had also removed her glasses and it was something any girl would like to see. How could they be so damn handsome? Did the mafia only hire attractive people? I had to talk to Cami about this. It seemed that a modeling agency had changed careers and now dominated the city with beauty and violence. It sounded good.

"To tell you that my boss isn't a bad person, sir Corey might act all tough and ridged, but he isn't a mobster you portray him to be," David explained. "Corey isn't a mobster, tell me what good do you see in him?". I said and made sure to deepen into my qualm. David grinned. "Miss, you're only saying this because you've only seen one side of him, and do trust me, I've been working for him some years now, Corey isn't the mobster he portrays to be,"..... ...... David narratively explained to me. He took his attention away, as he restarts his car.

Handsome suddenly raised its voice. Its body trembled slightly at this moment. "Isn't it? You are scared." The Nation Master still sneered. "Scared?" Handsome spat out another word. A hint of impatience flashed across the Nation Master's green eyes. He didn't want to talk nonsense with the demon pig in front of him. Raising the Eight Divine Ruler in his hand, the National Master was about to smash the other party into the ground when at this moment, a shocking change suddenly occurred to Handsome.

We managed to keep covid under control in Mobia, a lot better than they had in the UK and between regular tests and the vaccine it was basically a non issue but it never hurts to be careful. I left Hugo to eat his breakfast while I took my smoothie upstairs and drank it while I got ready. I’d laid out an outfit the night before, a khaki shirt dress with heeled boots and a wide belt, and washed my hair the night before, I just had to style it and apply some makeup. Before I left, I took a quick selfie for I*******m. When I got back downstairs, Dad was getting the kids ready to leave. “You’re leaving?” He asked.

Behind her, the city was a wall of wet granite; ahead, the black, choppy water offered a smuggler’s hope that wasn't coming. The engine hum cut through the mist first—low, rhythmic, expensive. Four black SUVs materialized from the gray like predators from a dream. Hugo Sidney stood at the center, a mountain of a man who didn't need a gun to look lethal. Then, the armored town car slid into the circle. Dominic Moretti stepped into the rain. He didn't look like a mobster; he looked like a man who owned the rain. He opened a black umbrella with a slow, mechanical precision, the drumming of the water the only heartbeat in the silence.