Mafia Men: Nikolai's Inferno Mga Nobela at Kwento

He was always the one that gave me the most trouble, but then again what did I expect. I took my seat afterward and looked at each of them. They were the most trusted people in my organization. Gabriele was my second in command for good reason. He was a smart ass and could get bossy, but he was loyal to a fault. Riccardo had a resolve made out of steel, but he needed to when he was the one looking after our sex workers. Niccolo, my cousin, was insane, but he was good with a gun and ran them without getting taken down.

Don Niko? Then I remembered where I had heard his name. Alexander's birthday party, four months ago. Alexander was talking about Don Niko to papa. I have seen papa shiver from his name. My papa, King Octavius, a tyrant, and ruthless King is afraid of Don Niko. I suddenly felt like they indeed have not tortured me. I have heard stories about the mafia, gruesome and gory stories that made me realize, I had it easy. "Come on, let's go upstairs"

“I can’t say… I’m begging you…” Lorenzo stood up. “Wrong answer.” He slammed his fist into the man’s stomach. The man groans, coughing and spitting blood. “Who is buying from you?” Lorenzo asked again. The man shook his head. “Please… forgive me… I didn’t mean to… My mother is sick… I needed the money…” “Wrong answer again.” Lorenzo turned to his men. “Rip the skin off his back. Feed it to the dogs.” “Amigo”

Five guards step out of it, and fall into step behind me instantly. With my phone in a pocket, and a pistol in my hand; eyes filled with deathly fury as we approach. The moment I step in, the sight before me makes my heart stop. Not because its new, I've seen thousands of dead bodies, it was worse after an all out war between two ruthless mafia Lords. What made my heart stop is the implication. "This is a lot." I mutter, noting the extent of damage that had been done. The thought of innocents being murdered, and killed for something they didn't do or had no idea of; makes my heart ache.

“You have no idea who the fuck you are talking to right now. I ought to whip you until you bleed for this disobedient and disrespectful outburst.” Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry as it hung open. Not at his threats but rather the vclaim that he made—his words echoing in her mind. The mafia king? As in the leader of the vicious MMM group from Karachi? Never in a million years had Anissa thought that she would be facing the leader of the most powerful mafia in the country. The identity of the leader of the mafia was kept hidden from the public but his malicious and merciless killings and acts were infamous throughout the country. Anissa wasn’t that much of a news person or a socialite

“They hired a Russian mobster who played me horrible. I managed to turn the situation around and not get so hurt, but this one is capable of anything. It's a real animal. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. “Do you understand why I really need someone to trust, Mina?” He asks me in his broken voice. “I feel like everyone wants to hurt me. I've done horrible things in my life, but this last time I've tried to fix it by getting all this shit out of me, trying to cut ties with these people, but they're the worst scum that can exist in the world.” “Black... That Russian mobster who played you is…” “Yes, Mina. He's Mikael Sydow's own son of a bitch.”

THEMES EXPLORED INCLUDE POWER IMBALANCE, OBSESSION, MANIPULATION, AND REDEMPTION IN A SETTING WHERE MORALITY IS BLURRED AND EMOTIONS RUN DANGEROUSLY DEEP. PLEASE PROCEED ONLY IF YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH DARK, INTENSE, AND TABOO STORYTELLING. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED. PROLOGUE Kieran ~~~~~ It was time. I had waited for years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds that stretched into what felt like an eternity. Russo’s men were gathered from the distance, with guns placed firmly on their hips. They didn’t even notice me; I simply stood there, watching them, my eyes tracing every movement, every gesture, as if memorizing the moment before it'll fall apart.

Nikolai crossed his arms. “Uncle Adrik teaches me boring things.” “Like?” “Chess.” “That’s useful.” “Not cool.” Damian chuckled quietly. “What exactly do you think the mafia does?” Nikolai leaned back and began counting on his fingers. “Guns.” “Fast cars.” “Secret meetings.” “Fighting bad guys.” Anton walked over at that moment. “Your description is disturbingly accurate.” Nikolai lit up. “See!” Damian rubbed his temple.

“Congratulations, Boss!” Without waiting for the celebration, Drake turned on his heel and walked out of the church. Amy followed closely behind, flanked by a sea of suits and heavy artillery. The moment the heavy church doors slammed shut behind them, the priest’s knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the altar floor, completely unconscious. Meanwhile, across the city, the atmosphere was entirely different. Inside the fortified syndicate of the Blood Pact Mafia. The second largest crime syndicate in Italy. Athan, a hardened man in his early fifties, sat high on a leather chair that served as his throne. The air in his private chambers was thick with the pungent, sweet scent of a heavy blunt