Mafia Heiress Novels & Stories

Jax didn't laugh. He stepped closer, leaned on the desk, and looked at me with pity. "Enough, Alessia." He sounded arrogant, like he was scolding a disobedient pet. "Go home and clean up your mess. If you keep this up, I promise you won't even get to be my wife." He thought losing my shares meant I'd be nothing but an accessory, begging at his feet. He severely underestimated me. I am the sole heiress of the Valeriano family, the biggest Mafia clan in Sicily.

“Your empire. Denounce it and come work for me. I’ll make you my commander general. There can only be one mafia lord, and it will be me. No competition. Or I kill your sister.” “You must be joking,” I spat. “Say something else, or I pull the trigger.” “Luciano, please save me,” Isabella begged through the gag, tears streaming down her face. “He’s going to kill me!” “Shut up,” I snapped at her, though my heart twisted. “Let me think.” Santiago’s grin widened. “Option two: sign over sixty percent of everything you make from your drug sales. Simple.” “No. You must be out of your fucking mind, Santiago.”

I had a knack for copying people. Back in elementary school, the principal's father called him "buddy", so that was how I addressed the principal for six straight years. On graduation day, the man practically threw a party when I finally walked out of his school. In middle school, a rich kid mocked me by chomping down on fresh raspberries right in my face. So I gobbled down a whole box and ended up in the ER from a severe allergic reaction. Since then, the rich kid would check the ingredient list before eating anything in front of me. By high school, the most popular girl in school accused me of bullying and threatened to overdose on sleeping pills. In response, I swallowed an e

I woke up from a three-year coma to find another woman beside my parents and my fiancé, Matteo Rossi. Her name was Sofia Bellini, and she had spent those three years with them in my place. Her father, Sal Bellini, had died saving my life in a gunfight. So after I woke up, no one could bring themselves to send her away. I felt guilty too. So whenever she helped herself to my things and my privileges, I let her. I kept letting her, right up until the day Matteo and I were supposed to get married, when my own parents begged me in tears to let my fiancé go save another woman. In the dressing room, I stood in my wedding dress and looked over at Matteo by the window. He was smoking a cigar, his mi

Although she probably won’t be able to know if I didn’t tell her. I can see she was surprised by the shocked expression on her face. She’s probably wondering how on earth I was able to fall into the hands of the mafia. It was already dangerous enough that I was my father’s daughter, now I’m also a mafia princess as well. Even if we are able to solve this problem now, more problems will arise in the future. But the future is so far away and we have to focus on the now. And right now, I only have Nikolai.

She seemed to have no limits on what she would do or allowed to be done to her in this club. Katia was a gorgeous girl. A thoroughbred with blonde hair which hadn’t come from a bottle, sweet freckles, and whole virgin girl next door look about her. She had a background in ballet and gymnastics, had even come from money. Until she whored around, partied too hard, and got disowned by her wealthy, aristocrat family. And the top of the irony cake, was her brother Claudius, the heir and golden child, hit this club up more times than a Granny bakes cookies. And there was that whole her family’s ties to the Italian Mafia thing, but no one really talked about it. She was a fallen Mafia princess, mo

I read it once, then again, already saying her name in my head more carefully this time, before moving downward to the details that follow, each line adding an invisible weight to my chest rather than clarity. She’s Russian… Daughter of the notorious Russian Mafia Don Sergei Volkov, she’s his one and only heiress. As I read on the profile it’s followed by layers of details of her identity that feels almost theatrical in how casually they’re laid out. Her birth records shows she’s just twenty three, her known aliases, information on her educational background and the full lists of all her assets. The descriptive information backed up with account proof of her wealth, both the offshore account

I said and left immediately. "Wait a minute!" She stopped me before I open the door, "Does that mean you knew who I am, really?" I nodded at her, "The only daughter of Davis Scott, the Nation's Tycoon?" I declared as I turn to her, then, briefly averted my gaze. 'And the Heiress of the Whale Mafia Wing!' I wished to spit the latter words but my gut was not supporting me. Her lips parted and surprise took all over her face. She sagged her back against the headrest while she felt somewhat grumpy.

He didn't look homeless, and one can tell from one glance that he is well-read. The truth is I was not finding any of his questions funny as I felt miserable and pained from all the embarrassment I had earlier encountered. I pulled down my shirt for him to see out of annoyance. “Here it is sir, it is a fucking birthmark and I hate it, I will gladly give you if you want it," I said in frustration. “I'm so sorry to bother you my lady, but I happen to come from London, and this mark of yours is a mark that is mostly associated with the royal family, I think if that mark is real, that you may be a princess,” he said, looking surprised at his own words.

"YEGOR." Eyes as cold as ice, Yelena looked at a Mafia Lord on her right side when he called her by her underground infamous name. Legs crossed beneath the table, she strictly raised an eyebrow at him. She is currently meeting with twelve Mafia Lords who are among the top fifteen powerful mafias in the Underground. As an heiress to the 2nd most powerful Mafia, the Odesseau clan, a mafia clan that seeks absolute power in the Underground, she is leading the meeting today. And as usual, Yelena didn't invite the Aslanovs who don't have an official successor yet.