Novel & Cerita Italian Mafia Books

In that case, I could not blame her. She had left me for a man who was nothing better than I was, and yet, according to her, he was ‘different’. Different how? He was the Capo of Cosa Nostra like I was the Capo of 'Ndrangheta. Adonis Vitale ruled most of New York alongside his rivals, the Illianos, while I ruled the entirety of Canada. We were both territorial men. We were both Mafia lords. I did not understand any part of Belle’s logic.

~VITTORIA~ I walked into the sitting room and scoffed, making them notice my presence. Sore enough they weren't happy to see me. Simone was sitting there together with three other men who were from other mafia families of lower rank. They had also been present at the meeting when Bianchi was killed by Roman. "Y'all seem to be having a fun conversation," I told them looking from one person to another. And making sure I said it in the rudest tone I could use. "I mean since Tiziano's name was mentioned, it sparked my interest a little bit too much."

Axel swiftly steps aside, avoiding the flying glass. My temper has been out of control lately. But who can blame me? Antonio was one of my best men, and I found out too late that he was stealing from me. Besides the men I've already tortured and killed for information, I don't know who else could have been working with him besides the Russians. Any of my men could be traitors, and I fucking hate traitors. Nobody steals from me. NOBODY! My blood is boiling, threatening to explode. Killing him wasn't enough. Once you join the mafia, your family automatically becomes collateral. He took from me, and I'm going to take everything from him even if he's already rotting away in hell.

"Let’s welcome our brother who’s been lost to the snare of Lilith, a woman filled with deception—the temptress herself." Dontrell rolled his eyes but didn’t acknowledge my jab. Instead, he strode toward the left corner of the rooftop, where a round glass table sat, its hard-styled décor sharp and imposing. Five sleek chairs surrounded it. Beside it stood a life-sized bronze statue of Vito Genovese, a 20th-century mafia boss who ruled the Genovese crime family with absolute control—like a puppet master.

“The real truth is he was probably followed into the woods, beaten to semiconsciousness then tossed over the edge of the cliff.” “Yes.” Her dark eyes are full of sympathy. “So, John was killed, most likely by—” I swallow. Nolan’s name bounces around my skull, on the tip of my tongue. I can’t do it. “Someone from the Morfil family. My father was most likely killed through some kind of Mafia connection.” Dai Qing closes the file and stares at me for a moment. “He learned Italian after your brother was murdered, right?” I give a curt nod. “The De Luca family speaks primarily Italian for their business purposes.”

I didn’t want to call him for backup, but he was the only agent who would defy the rules to get to me in time. Now was the best time to retire, hand in my letter and leave the agency, then come up years later as a special investigator in the private sector. My phone chimed and the short text killed my dreams. Zaverio wanted to meet with me to discuss something important. He never called or sent long messages, anything he wanted to say was in person or nothing. He had also never checked me for tapes or asked if I ever recorded any of our conversations. These questions never came up because Zaverio was a secure man who didn’t need me to bring him down. The news of Alan Spinoza was the biggest

"I wouldn't." I took a deep breath, weighing my options. I had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. If he wanted to harm me, he'd had plenty of opportunities already. "Okay," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was taken after my shift at the diner I worked at." "What the fuck?" Shadow's eyes widened, his entire body tensing. "My father owes the mafia money apparently," I continued, watching his reaction closely. "He stole it from the boss he worked for, Cassian Romano."

"Yeah, the name sounds familiar. If I had to guess, he's probably the head of a big gangster in Brooklyn." Bella closed her mouth. Her guess was the same. His appearance was not far from the gangsters in movies. Neat, arrogant, and cold. "What if you're being targeted to be kidnapped and sold into the human trafficking market?" Darrell teased. "Hey, why are you scaring me?" Bella pouted. Darrell burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding. Or maybe he's fallen in love with you. Ah, so romantic. An innocent girl chased by a ruthless and cold mafia boss." Bella sneered. Until now, she couldn't conclude Marco Vilante's intentions.

That wasn't comforting. “And if she isn't?” “We will kill each and every one of them. Vincenzo is ruthless, but he is not stupid. I am sure he wouldn't want to start a war with you”, Ben said, no matter how comforting his words were. These people were Mafia lords, they feared no one, not even the law itself. My eyes drifted off to the CCTV footage, “Cara is leaving, let's follow her” I said, standing up. Usually, I wouldn't be present to catch her myself, but I was anxious about Taylor, any sort of distraction just not to worry was highly welcome.

Especially not now. Mafiosos weren’t saints. We did jobs far worse than trafficking. We had whorehouses, brothels and clubs where both men and women partook, but only after signing a consensual agreement as per the rules of the Commission. Human trafficking meant the lack of consent and display of false power and was completely against the morals of the Italian-American Mafia. “We have to deal with this before the Commission finds out,” Dom warned. If they hadn’t already found out. The Illianos wouldn’t waste a single breath before using it against us in front of the entire commission. None of the parties in the Commission would waste their one chance of calling me incompetent.