Horse Mafia Blessings Novels & Stories

I couldn't count how many times I'd had to run for my life while dragging Giorgia with me. She had developed the phrase for every time we needed to run. Giorgia. I took a sip of my whiskey, allowing the taste to linger on my tongue before I responded. "Tell me, Luca, what do you think about betrayal?" Luca's face grew serious, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated my question. "Betrayal," he spoke, his voice laced with conviction, "is the ultimate sin according to our mafia laws. It breaks the bond of trust we have and it's an act that cannot be forgiven."

I run my hands through my hair, tension coursing through my body. She doesn’t speak. The tension building up within me, fights to be let go. I throw the glass of whiskey against the wall. The glass shattering is the only thing making me feel a shred of control. “The Bel-…Belmontes” “What about them?” I ask. The Belmontes are affiliated with the Greek mobsters. They run shipping routes across major parts of America and Asia. A highly influential family that keeps to itself a lot. Greek mob. Her father’s playing in bigger leagues than I thought. But that’s her family’s mess. Not mine.

she said, and I let her. After dinner, Dante, Gio, Antonio, and I were on the porch at the back. I updated them on what was going on. “Okay then, we know who we are looking for, so there is no confusion. Pascal and the others will be here in a few days, and we start,” Antonio said, and I looked at him. Pascal wasn't just a security detail. Pascal and his men were demons. They were truly what the world feared. Yes, we were a Mafia family, and Pascal and his team were who we used when we wanted to make a statement.

Belle pushed the wheelchair up to one of the chairs and sat alongside Arya, pulling her knees up and having her arms wrapped around them. Arya looked out at the water, and then very slowly she turned her head. What was it like?" she asked. "Being in the mafia when you were a kid. I mean. who are you really?" Belle took a breath and brushed her hair out of her face. "That's a big question." "You can give a small answer." Belle smiled and tilted her head back slightly, looking up at the sky for a second. "My father was one of the right-hand men. He handled a lot of big things, mainly money transfer and transport. So yeah… I was basically the princess of the mafia, I suppose."

She blushed softly, her gratitude evident in her shy expression. "Thank you," Chiara whispered, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was a privilege to be there for her on such a momentous day, lending my support and helping to make her dreams come true. ****** In the solemn ambience of the church, I sat by Mac Allister's side. Dressed in a revealing black gown and a delicate net cap, I observed the scene before me. Bella, standing at the altar, was accompanied by Krystallo, a notorious mafia killer-turned-priest who would soon wed her in a month's time. Their unlikely love story was a testament to the unpredictable nature of life.

“The Don used to ban anyone from staring at that forehead of yours—hell, he wouldn’t even let a soul mention it. But things are different now. Lift your hair up and let us see just how hideous it really is.” I took a sharp step back. That scar wasn’t just a personal tragedy. It was a badge of honor from the turf war that saved this entire mafia family; it was the sole reason they even had an empire to stand on today. If I hadn’t nearly died holding the line during that ambush, Dominic would never have had the chance to launch a counter-attack. And these pathetic lackeys wouldn’t be enjoying their current luxury. “Step the hell back right now,” I commanded, my voice dropping into a low, letha

“I accept.” He dropped to one knee. A black ring was slid onto his finger—an heir’s seal, etched with a dagger in flame. Then came the brand. Klaus pressed the burning sigil to Ray’s inner wrist — a crescent wolf. No ceremony. No pause. Just pain. Ray didn’t flinch. He could feel the peering eyes on him from every member. “Let the Council witness,” Klaus declared. “Ray Wyatt is heir to the City Council. By blood. By flame. By oath. He shall become the City Council mafia Lord!"

"Happy birthday, Galvan!" The crisp clashing of champagne glasses rose and fell in my penthouse. I smiled as I looked at my husband. He was surrounded in the center by a group of men in suits and ties, each complimenting his "promising future". He had climbed the ranks to become a mid-level member of the Falcone family, the largest mafia, with hopes of becoming a capo. The upper-class elites of Kavrion gathered together, along with hidden family members.

Christian’s grin widened as he raised his glass higher, towering over her. “And to unity,” he finished for her. “For what was once divided, is now bound together. As witnessed tonight by the gift of Mrs. Kalanshivo, who now belongs to me.” A roar of voices and gunfire exploded as the mafia raised their glasses, some firing shots into the air in approval. She wanted to scream and pull herself away from his hold, but the thought of Gio, of Sebastian dragging her cousin back here with a knife to her throat kept her rooted. “Perfect. Now smile, mistress. You belong to me, courtesy of your dear husband.”

“Then the curse continues. And Raphael… and everything you’ve built together will be swallowed by it.” Silence filled the room. Martha gripped her mug tightly, trying to ground herself. “Why me?” she asked finally. “Because you are the last of the De Luca bloodline,” Alessia said. “And because you are the only one with the power to end it. You were born under a rare alignment, something the Moon feared enough to try to crush before you could rise.” Martha took a deep breath. “So, I just… prepare? How?” Alessia leaned forward. “Strengthen your body, sharpen your mind, but most importantly—fortify your heart. The Moon will attack where you are weakest. And I think we both know where that is.”