Mafia King Mga Nobela at Kwento

“This wasn’t part of it…” He crouched beside her, his face inches from hers, his lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Oh, it was exactly part of it. You just didn’t read it…..poor little naive Seraphina,” he said mockingly. “This was my game from the beginning; my setup….my rules.” He stood tall and proud. “I’m Vincenzo De Luca, the Mafia Lord of Manhattan; I don’t lose, I don’t beg. Let me bust your bubble…. I take whatever I want…. And in my games I always win.”

Again the voice asked and in that moment I realized it was my demon speaking. A dark reflection of my past and the figure that I used to be. "What do you want from me again?" I asked. "Don't pretend like you are surprise. The moment you choose to become a Mayor instead of reclaiming the table is when you allowed me into your life." "But I am changed now. I have lost alot and learned my lessons." "No!" He yelled. "You are not a politician. You are not a mere puppet. You are a King, a Mafia boss that controls the city."

After that, I turned around and walked out of the room, my face expressionless. “Rose!” she rushed to my feet as I yelled, frightened at the sound of her name. “Good morning, sir,” she murmured, bowing to me. “Check on my kitten and see what she needs. Make sure she’s dressed appropriately for the occasion,” I said, and she nodded before walking into Molly’s room. I come from a long line of brutal mafia the kings, but we dabbled in regular business as well. Gambling and drug peddling were part-time jobs.

I said and he sat on a chair beside me. "Still you need the title. Chinese and American mafia families won't object but Russians will. We Italians are ruling for a long time over the whole world's mafia but still without our mafia queen defeating other queens in the competition, as per the rules you won't get the title of king officially. Since the last three whores of yours are losing to Russian whores only. " he said and I rolled my eyes.

"I could have helped you if he wasn't Rafael Delgado, I can't protect you from the Mafia king himself. I am sorry!" Ken looked ashamed of himself but he snatched the ground beneath my feet with his answer. My eyes snapped towards Rafael and widened in shock. Mafia King, Rafael Delgado! The man who was behind all the crimes in the country. The man who single handedly has destroyed the peace of the nation. The man who is famous for his brutality. I had no idea that he was the same Rafael, I had heard the name but couldn't connect. I was fucked. Ken was right, no one could save me from him.

Over the past handful of days, the hospital had been rife with rumors. “I am.” Still no inflection, like the man had become the mask. No explanation, no excuses. So, I pressed on. “That you unified the Mafia for profit.” “I did.” I should be grateful that he wouldn’t deny what I knew to be true—that Aldo Marcello was one of the most feared Mafia kings to ever rule the streets of New York. Iron-fisted, my co-workers whispered to each other, words hushed by fear and awe. Ruthless. Domineering. Nobody can oppose his rule.

Morte Nera Empire Luciano Saint Claire's Mansion~ Luciano Saint Claire was the King of Morte Nera Empire; he was regarded as the leader of all the mob houses and Mafia leaders in Italy. He was seated on a sofa on the balcony of his room, sipping from a glass of scotch, while Antonio stood before him, his hands casually in his pockets. One thing he got from his father was the ability to mask his expressions, stay calm even under tensed situations, just like he was doing now. His addiction to scotch was also gotten from Luciano.

There was something oddly familiar about him, like I'd met him before, but I couldn't place where or when. "What is a mafia don's greatest weakness?" Because my vision had shifted to Vincenzo, I noticed his body go rigid the moment he heard the question. When I looked into his eyes, I saw it. It was easy to miss, but I'd seen it. Subtle, yet unmistakable. Pain. A feeling I knew all too well. His gray eyes immediately darkened on me. "It's easy," he replied to the question without bothering to concede to the man who'd asked the question. "Money."

I scanned the room first to check if there was any person in the dining room aside from us before I looked at him again, “D-Does Natalia know that you are a mafia boss?” The question hung in the air, and Sylus’ expression turned icy cold. His eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a low, menacing tone, “How did you know that I am a mafia boss? I haven’t told you about that yet, right?” My heart skipped a beat as I realized I had slipped up. I quickly tried to cover my tracks, “W-When your men took me from the island, my grandma told me you are a mafia boss. A-Also, it’s not that hard to know because of the exaggeratedly large number of your men….”

But I gave her a better ending than the fate she would have gotten if she had married that man. Dimitri Volkov, a man known to be the devil himself. I only had six months to do this. Infiltrate the empire of Dimitri Volkov, the Russian mafia king. My handlers had asked me to seduce, gain his trust, and then kill him. The killing part was going to be easy, but finding the information I wanted? That is what the six months were for. But I have never failed a mission, and this was going to end like the others, his blood staining my blades.