Mafia Daughters Novels & Stories

This is the first time Alesso is tasting her anger, and he is not liking it. Mia is not scared of Alesso. She is the daughter of a former mafia don and the wife of the present don. Even if she cannot win Alesso with physical strength, she is sure Reed will snap his neck in two if he even gives her a scratch on her skin.

I rang the doorbell, again a silence between Mitch and me, yet no butterflies, no nervousness, just a calm feeling while we waited in silence for my mother to open the door. “I have to warn you,” I said, “my mother is drunk so I feel like I need to...” “No need, we can't choose our parents,” he said calmly, “just glad you arrived safely home, especially knowing this I couldn't in good conscience allow you to get in unwanted situations, the world is a scary place to live in for women” he added and right then my mother opened the door. Her bleached blonde hair fell to her elbows, her make-up was fine except for the lipstick which was mostly off because of the drinks she had.

I barely entered the hall room and got to see his pissed off face. " Bella, Where were you for two days and nights? Have you got no shame? Were you perhaps playing with men ,naked in the clubhouse?" Yeah that's how mafia dads talk with their daughters who have been a whore for their whole life. In the world's eyes my dad is respected chairman Austin Diór , a billionaire who loves his daughter blindly.

I was never even allowed to go to school. I sat back up still holding my arm as pain once again coursed through my body. This wasn’t the first time I had been hurt, or he had hurt me. And it was definitely not the last either. I needed to do as he had said before he came back in and it would turn ugly. My father had no patience, especially when it came to me. My name is Nala Liam, the daughter of Liam. For a while our family used to be among the most feared mafia families in the south. My father owned most of everything. That was until he started gambling and drinking too much and owed alot of people money.

They want to treat me like a mafia princess when it comes to sitting pretty at their sides but when it comes to making big decisions and leading the two families I'm looked over. “Chris take me to the penthouse a block from twisted and for the love of your life do not tell them where the hell I am" I am the daughter of a mafia lord, even though I didn't know that until a few months ago, I am a bad ass bitch who knows how to handle a gun, crossbow and can probably skin and filet a person's body if given the chance.

“Yeah, I will take care of it.” My name is Carlos Gotti, the don of the most feared Mafia in Las Vegas. I happened to become the next don after my father passed away. Most people hated us because we are the law; we controlled everything in Las Vegas, the illegal business, clubs, and stripes clubs. We hardly got checked as most policemen were on our payroll. They pledge to us. You can call us ruthless, but we are the most respected Mafia don in Las Vegas. We have other mafia, just like Gambino, who want to bring us down and take over the business. “Vito, I want you to find every detail of the woman in this ID,” I said to my personal guard, handing him over the school ID I picked from the floo

The ritual bowl at her feet pulsed gently, reminiscent of a heartbeat. The blood within no longer flowed like a liquid. It was beginning to stir. She murmured the ancient words, from a tongue older than any scripture, and the blood began to take shape—first a circle, then the mark of flame. A name ignited in her mind. Adrianna. The final soul. The daughter of Giovanni Moretti.

The father who taught me how to slice a lemon perfectly, who held me when nightmares attacked - how could that man be what she’d just named? Vivian’s look was almost gentle, the sort of pity people give when they’re watching someone step off a cliff. “Most daughters of crime bosses grow up understanding the family business,” she said. “But Francesco kept you completely in the dark.” “It’s not true,” I whispered, the words thin and useless. I wanted to convince myself more than anyone else. “He is not in the mafia.” Saying it aloud felt like a wish. She laughed and it scraped at whatever calm I’d tried to hold, it annoyed me. “I am in the mafia,” she said flatly, and the admission made the ro

Small, real things in a place that often felt constructed entirely of tension. I waited until she'd set the dough aside to prove before I spoke. "Mara. Can I ask you something?" She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at me with that careful, unhurried attention of hers. "You can ask." "Why me?" I said. "When my uncle — when the debt happened. There must have been other ways to settle it. Money, property, something. Why did Damian take a person?" She was quiet for a moment, moving to rinse her hands at the sink.

"Touch us… And the Don will… Tear you apart!" Jolene laughed even louder at my words. She stepped hard on me. "Don? Which Don are you talking about? What a joke. I've never even heard of either of you before, and you're using some random Don to threaten me?" She leaned down toward me to pat me hard and arrogantly on the cheek. "Open your eyes and look hard! I'm the daughter of Casey Nostra, the Capo of South City! I'm the real Mafia Principessa! You're nothing but an orphan who's left with a brother. What's with all the pretences?"