Novel & Cerita Mafia Meeting Name

|Rocco| I knew the annual mafia meeting would be a bloody one no matter the preparation—it had always been like that. I had spent days in back-to-back meetings with the other families, trying to settle disputes, address underlying grudges, and ensure the main meeting didn’t turn into an outright war. It never fully worked. There was always blood, always chaos. But at least, with enough groundwork, the damage could be minimized.

“He’s in a meeting!” “Ask me if I care,” I call over my shoulder, flashing him a grin. He groans behind me. “I’m dead. I’m so dead.” I ignore him, ignore the guards outside Zeke’s door, and shove the double doors open. The room freezes. Naomi is the first thing I see. Her perfect hair. Perfect posture. Perfect smile fading when she sees me. My body goes rigid only for a second, but I feel it everywhere. Then I see the men at the table. Don Carlo. Two others I don’t recognize. Papers, maps, guns. A real mafia meeting. The kind Zeke would never let me near. And then—

Donatella held him tighter, saying nothing. They dressed in silence and drove straight to the Bratva’s empire. The air outside was heavy, filled with unease. Guards moved briskly around the grounds, cars lined the entrance. Igor approached and gave a short bow. “It’s been a while, Mikhail.” Mikhail’s face was hard. “Where is everyone?” “In the big meeting room,” Igor replied. “This better be worth it,” Mikhail muttered under his breath as they walked in. The old meeting room only used for major gatherings, was already filled with underbosses and council heads. The moment Mikhail entered with Donatella by his side, the chatter died.

"Because if I were planning an escape, you'd already know about it." For one second something flashed across his face. Approval. Recognition. Gone almost immediately. Yet I saw it. And somehow that felt worse than anything else. Because I liked seeing it. Far more than I should have. Far more than was safe. The afternoon brought meetings. Endless, tedious meetings about mafia business. Territories. Money. Shipments. Names I didn't care about. Details that meant nothing to me. I usually stayed away from those discussions entirely. Usually I retreated to my room or the library or anywhere Salvatore wasn't.

It would throw the heat off Zaverio for sure, and I’d be set for life if I brought him in. “-tomorrow afternoon” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.”, “I said we’ll be meeting for coffee at an address I’ll send to you. We can’t be seen together and your safety is high priority to all of us.” “You want to exchange heavy information over coffee?” I looked around, what kind of mafia organization was this? “What are we going to do next, roller skate?” Alvaro snapped his fingers. “Perfect for our second date, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

He smirked at his teasing but I just glared at him. "You wish. You look like shit." I turned away from him and moved my hands to the doorknob, turning it and pushing the doors wide open to reveal the luxury that lay inside. It's expected of a Pakhan, the Bratva's Mafia Lord. That's what they were called. Sighing, I move to enter the room but his deep voice stopped me in my tracks; "Baby girl," He called and the endearment sent goosebumps up my arms. Good goosebumps though, and I hated it, "You'd better not think about running. You wouldn't get far. Not here, not now.

“The Corral is a Morfil spot. Nolan’s got a meeting with them.” I scowl as I hit the gas to zoom past an elderly lady who’s driving in the wrong lane on the highway. Drivers who can’t handle multilane roads really get under my skin. Seriously, just stay home or take another route. Get out of my way! “What’s The Corral?” It wasn’t mentioned in the file, but from what I know, the De Luca and Morfils aren’t exactly best buds. “An underground fight ring.” “Is Nolan trying to stir things up with them?” Maybe I’ve got it all wrong, and Nolan actually gets along with the Morfils. The crime scene in Sicily is like a tangled web of connections and old feuds. There’s still so much I need to figure out

My hands still shaking. From the front seat, Paolo—Enzo's underboss—passed back a gold-embossed invite. Heavy. Loud without saying a word. [Chicago Mafia Summit.] Bottom corner, fine print: [Rossi Don, Giacomo, and partner Zoya cordially invite you...] Paolo's voice was low and steady. "Don says every major Family will be there. Biggest stage you'll get. Giacomo wants it to lock his crown." A beat. "You can use it to crack it."

I pushed her to the brink. “Boss, you good with that?” Deron asks, snapping my focus back to the present. I look around the dark SUV as my inner circle, Deron, Stephon, Kris, and Max, are preparing to help orchestrate a raid on a meatpacking plant. It’s one of many business fronts for the Scarfo mafia. This one, in particular, is run by Vinnie and his crew. It took a little digging, but Max managed to track the bastard down with ease.

They seem to have the same question in mind. "Hmmm... As far as I know, I'm the only one." Lucian replied and wipe his lips using the table napkin. Lyric stared at him while his mouth was stuffed with dessert. "But what's the Grand meeting all about?" Leroy asked and take a small bit of the piece of vanilla cake. "For electing Mafia King in the Underground court." Don Zagreus replied who now eyed Mort. Both stopped, Leroy and Lyric looked at Don Zagreus at the same time.