Mafia Ink Novels & Stories

“Here you go,” Niko says holding out an old brown book. Like the mafia rules, there’s nothing written on it, no title, or author's name. not even an abstract design. Just a plain book. At least this one seems to be just an old journal not like the other one Niko described to be bound in human flesh, yuck. The original Mafia rules, not the copy I read but still. I still sniff at it a little. Only smelled old woodsy smell and nothing gross like rotten flesh or skin.

) sighs and scratches the back of his neck. "It's my ink. Every member of the Stanzolio filiation ink unique to it's body. The emergence of this mark appears when person and their partner copulates. A partner's demise or betrayal will result in the other partner's ink disappearing. This disappearance is accoumpanied with pain like no other. Mine first emerged when I laid with Christine. She bears one as well. The importance of the family ink is something you can never comprehend. They signify something greater than love," I take in Stan's words and process the absolute fuckery that is going on.

My disgust when I realised that the overly religious bastard trying to bring me down, built a church and dutifully attended mass but trafficked the young and helpless when he didn't need to. The Mafia crime ring didn't have to be dishonourable. Him and the others I have taken out were the scum of my world. He was the last of the dishonourable dons in the mafia world. I had picked him right outside the church. Eliminating him and his likes had been my life's work, a work my father started and I was finishing. “Bring me four of his fingers, two from each hand,” I order my man, sipping the gin.

(great job) Mira had her hands wrapped around a guy’s bicep. He looks fairly familiar. It doesn’t need a genius to know that this man is in charge. The powerful, domineering aura he portrays is sending shivers all over my skin. With his six foot seven height, ink covered skin and the way his long inky black hair cascade on his shoulder only added to his fearful appearance. A cigarette trapped between his thin lips produces a cloud of smoke that’s making me dizzy. The scar on his left cheek is telling a whole new level of story. His blue eyes remind me of Aleck Orlov and realization soon hits me hard. The lion’s head mark from a few of the men surrounding me is a mark of the Russian mafia.

When the red haze of fury finally cleared, I found myself standing over Helena's prone form, my hands sticky with blood. The warehouse had fallen silent, the fight over. But the real battle, I realized as I turned to face Aliyah's shocked gaze, was just beginning. Aliyah Sundane The world had tilted on its axis, everything I thought I knew crumbling around me. Alessandro, my Alessandro, was standing before me, his hands dripping with blood, his eyes wild with a fury I'd never seen before. Mafia. The word echoed in my mind, alongside the images from the folder Helena had shown me. Newspaper clippings of gang violence, photos of Alessandro with known criminals, documents detailing illegal oper

and none of them were pretty. My eye caught something right in the middle of his back. I had to open the second to see what it was clearly. What the hell?! I couldn't believe this. He had branded himself! Right in the middle of his back was the mafia Insignia. The letter M in Gothic style was burned into his flesh, marring the upper part of his rather beautiful back. Why was he showing this to me freely? It would be easy to put two and two together and suspect he was in the mafia.

So far the police were simply fishing and had no concrete evidence that tied my father to any crime but his lawyers advised us to lay low. I poured scotch into my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned my throat on the way down. Neko walked into the Living room in a Thong and lace bra. “Welcome home Master!” Neko exclaimed in happiness. Nicoli spits out his drink when he saw her and the sight simply made me want to laugh. I watched as Nicoli coughed out all the alcohol he had breathed in when he saw Neko in her ‘Uniform’ or so she called it.

'My name?' He asked with a shocked expression. 'Yes.' He frowned and looked me in the eyes. 'Giovanni, my name is Giovanni LaRosa.' I smiled to myself. It's long and sexy, just what I hoped for. 'Okay, uhmm...' I was thinking what question I could ask. 'Do you do illegal stuff?' I asked. 'Yes. I do.' He said. Jesus, that was easy.. I nodded my head and thought of the possible thing he did. Maybe he killed more than just my sister. Or he is into drugs. Or woman export. You never know. But I'm already screwed, so fuck it.

KAYLA I stared at him in confusion, sure that I had heard wrong. From the tattoos to his words. “ Miro… this is some kind of prank right?” I laughed awkwardly, hoping that it was his way of getting back at me. “ Even if you're angry and you want to get back at me, isn't this too far?” I was well aware of the Russo mafia since I took on the mission to infiltrate Ricardo's mafia. The Russo mafia was nearly as large and influential as that of Ricardo’s.

The Italian Mafia men were known for their gang tattoos, often intricate and symbolic. And since they already had hold of the server, Hades knew he’d rather die than snitch on those who sent him. Hades just needed to find out what Gregory and the Italian Mafia had cooking. Claudine reached up to her head, her hand trembling so badly she could barely unpin the small fascinator. She fumbled with her earrings.