Mafia Obsession Movie Novels & Stories

Names are written on the table to demarcate each mafia from another. The whole place was very crowded, members are seen smoking, drinking and talking at the top of their voices with old-time friends. Conversations were loud, with curse words and threats. Whores and bitches were seen shaking their cheap ass around. Finding potential customers to grace their bed tonight. Just then, everyone except me shouted in excitement when Sibia climbed the stage, her big hips swaying, and her heels clicking against the floor. Every male gender has a lust for her. Sibia is a stripper who doesn’t fuck around with anyone. One faithful night at a club in Italy, I happened to run into her. We drank, and she ha

“You wear my ring. You sleep in my bed. You carry my name. That makes you mine. Every inch of you. And if you ever let that bastard touch you again, I’ll make sure neither of you can ever walk again.” Aria’s eyes widened in horror. “You want to know what happens when a woman disrespects a mafia Don?” he sneered. “Keep playing with fire, Aria, and you’ll find out.” “You’re sick,” she whispered, the fear creeping into her voice. “This isn’t love, this is obsession.”

" Logan DeAngelo is a feared, ruthless and notorious mafia boss who most of the time ranked first among the most popular and richest Mafia bosses in the entire world. And he was the very first when narrowed down to Italy....... " I sighed again, trying to give Maddy a hint that I didn't care about her lame mafia story. Seriously, she has got to stop doing this. "....... Owning powers over his family's companies and numerous power plants wasn't enough. He wanted more and everything he could lay his hands on. He's rumored to be known as the second coming of the devil himself because of his cruel ways of dealing with people below him...... "

“I saw a documentary.” “Yeah?” Lee snaps. “Was it sandwiched between your mafia movie and an episode of Narcos?” Another chuckle rolls out of Jackson. This one’s sharper. More deliberate. Either he finds his little roommate funny — which he’s not. Okay, maybe a little. Or he’s figured all this out, and he’s savoring it. He’s way too placid. That sets me on edge. “Seriously, though,” Jesse barrels on, undeterred, “… there’s always a mafia. Russians, Irish, Yakuza — pick a flavor. You piss off the wrong one, you end up in a trunk. With them … everything is business. I’ve seen it.”

Like an obedient dog, she left immediately. I scoffed, “Classic mafia wife.” He shot me a deadly glare and spat, “Better than a filthy whore.” Marco grabbed Luca’s collar and shoved him against the wall. “Shut the fck up! You don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Enough!” Papa Gerald yelled. I looked at all of them and shouted, “Why am I here? To insult me? Great, bravo! You succeeded. Can I go now? I’m disgusted by this filthy mafia life. I have a normal life with my son and I plan to keep it this way.”

The conversation was terse, brutal, punctuated by the occasional sharp command from Dante, to which the men responded with instant, unwavering obedience. Amara listened, her skin prickling. The raw, unfiltered nature of their discussions was terrifying. They spoke of violence, of intimidation, of retribution, with the same detached professionalism one might discuss stock market fluctuations. She heard hushed conversations about "sending a message," about "making an example." Her stomach churned. This was the true underbelly of the Mafia, stripped bare of any romanticized notions. This was brutal, unforgiving power, maintained through fear and bloodshed.

•ALESSINO POV• Maria's fingers slipped, and her spoon dropped. The sound cuts through the garden like a gunshot. “Ma,” I say, keeping my voice even. “You’re tired. Let’s get you inside.” She blinks at me, confused again. “Who are you? Where’s my son?” The table goes dead quiet. Leo looks at his plate. Alexandro doesn’t move. The two captains suddenly find the white roses very interesting. Only Odessa looks at me. Really looks at me. Like she’s seeing something she wasn’t supposed to see.

This was my only chance to save my mum, else I would have left this place. “Exactly. If that man walks in here tonight, nobody better screw up, else your head is on a stake and the government, not even the president can do anything about it.” Another waiter laughed nervously. “I just want to see the woman he’s bringing.” “Woman?” someone asked. “Yeah, I heard he’s obsessed with her.” Something about that sentence twisted inside my chest and for some reason, Adrian flashed through my mind again. Men like him belonged in places like this. Not with someone like me.

Tony said simply. “What like the Mafia?” Said Grace shocked. “The Mafia is the Italian version, you already met Xan who is the Chinese Gang Syndicate leader and you already met the European one as well!" Tony said carefully. “Xan, that arsehole I just stared down?” Grace said and Tony nodded. "Who is the European one?” She asked quickly. Tony sighed and said “Kurt Blackwood!” There was a silence as the blood drained out of Grace’s face. She felt like someone had ripped her heart out and kicked her in the stomach at the same time.

He has the same tall dark handsome Italian genes and weirdly green eyes, the same overall death by glare and oozing intimidation. I never knew Italians with olive skin could have green eyes but it’s not as pretty or as soulless as the pale grey of a wolf. Mico is a typical Hollywood gangster movie henchman in a dark suit and black overcoat. Silent, obedient and all seeing. He doesn’t strike me as dumb either and has that same clever sadism about him that Alexi just effortlessly oozes from every pore. Only Mico is not as dominant and out there as Mr Mafia Boss is, and tends to be the silent intimidation in the room and only does as he is told.