Mafia Madman Novels & Stories

In a flash, the driver rambled an apology and ignited the engine. It was always a ritual to remind him though he already knew he had to ignite the entire. I love being assertive and controlling towards other people. I wanted people to quiver just by the mere mention of my name on their lips. Fuck, I was Stefano Morelli, the capo dei capi of the most powerful Italian American mafia. People were supposed to cower by my feet. I love the fear and power that came with my appearance. The limousine drove on the busy California road with my capos closely tailgating at me.

Maddie complained and placed the mug on the table, looking seriously at Lina, waiting for her to speak. “Sorry... Well, the first is that I found out who sent that jewel. And yes, it was for me. It was the crazy guy from the club. That hottie I kissed. Apparently, he is connected to the mafia; Second thing is that I'm unemployed, precisely because I got into trouble with him.” Maddie just stared at Lina for a while. “The crazy guy at the club is from the mafia and is after you?” She repeated, like a malfunctioning robot.

“So you think he changed his mind because of your father?” I snorted. “Have you met Marcus Easter? He’s Satan’s spawn. If you haven’t met him, I’d stay away. He’s a curse that you’ll never get rid of, no matter how much you try to shake him. He’s like lint that’s immune to a lint roller.” I shuddered at the magnitude of truth there. I’d never be done with my father’s shittiness in life. “Uh. Yeah.” Detective Monteyo scribbled one last thing before putting his pad away. “Want to explain why a businessman with prominent and known Mafia ties is standing behind you right now?”

"Won't it be better for you to listen to what I have to say instead of acting like a damn child?!" Chiara flinched, her calm façade finally crumbling as her anger reached its limit. "Was that you or just your other personality? I know what bipolar disorder is, and you can't trick me. You're a fucking pervert who thinks that I'm stupid enough to be lied to." She scoffed, running her fingers through her hair. "Bipolar my ass," she added, her gaze shifting to the menu again. "I ordered something for the both of us already," Stefan answered quietly, only to be met by Chiara's silence.

"Tell me, who did?" "Not too fast now, baby. You would give me something in return." I just knew this wasn't gonna be good. What was she possibly going to ask for now? "And how do I know you're not lying about having supposed information?" "Manuel, just like you, I also have my ways. I'm a fucking mafia princess, you're quick to forget that. A much better option than that weak assistant of Alex." Her statement made me so angry and I released a grunt before I could hold back.

“But I have other aspirations in life. Becoming a mafia wife was never part of my plan.” “Watch your words when you speak of my son,” Mirella warned without looking at her, her attention fixed on the painting as if each word she spoke was just another stroke of the brush. “Dante isn’t just a simple mafioso, as you say. He is the leader of the ’Ndrangheta. The mere mention of the Bellandi name makes lesser men tremble. Don’t get it twisted, girl.” Her tone was soft, but every syllable carried a sharp edge—a reminder that Svetlana was a foreigner in a world that didn’t belong to her.

As his screaming emptied into the night sky, the howling of the hound dogs merged and dispersed into the spectacle. The silhouette with the shotgun was Maximus Hassien, brother of the notorious mafia lord Don Isagise Hassien. Their blood bond was poisonous. Maximus was the more rational of the two. He was always cleaning up his brother’s mess. Like this one. The eight nameless men were sent by the unknown Mr. Chaplain, who had bad blood with the myth of El Moruno, the mafia boss.

Marcus Ruvia just continued his exit from the abandoned building as if he didn't hear anything. Marcus Ruvia was known for being a ruthless, dominant, and powerful young boss of the mafia in the human world. He is very tall and muscular. His delicate features and obsidian eyes made him look mysterious and aloof. His aura imposed that no one should try to mess up with him or else they had their own death wishes.

Reckless actions do lead to poor outcomes. The sun above my head is now in front of me. Time takes forever to pass by as I take time to process all that went down. Alessandro’s footsteps make me lift my chin. He sits right in front of me, the mud tainting his expensive suit. His unsympathetic mafia boss self was hidden deep under, the man in front of me looked defeated. His gaze didn't meet mine, he spoke with his eyes fixated on the floor.

He extended his arm while showing the red mark from her hit. Clara rolled her eyes, "Can you be a little more serious? Something bad is happening, and you're still worried about your reddened arm?" "Come on, the mission is well planned, and I know exactly what to do there. I won't attack Liam and his troops in Canada. In fact, I'm not tasked with attacking ElWagner's headquarters because Rafael has arranged a team from a mafia network led by Mikael Williams." "Who is Mikael Williams?" Clara furrowed her brow upon encountering another unfamiliar name in Lucas's story.