Mafia Prince Novels & Stories

Hi, my name is Yaszy:) This is my first ever Mafia story. There will be SA! If you get triggered easily this book isn't for you. Please don't leave rude comments, I am trying my best with writing this story. There will be: -Abuse -Sex -Violence -Mafia -Triggers I hope you enjoy!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~CHARACTERS~ Location of story: New York Alessio Rocco Romano -The father and is 50 years old. He has brown hair and blue eyes, and is the head of the Italian Mafia. He's dangerous when it comes to messing with one of his kids.

I already knew where she was heading with this, and dread clawed up my spine. Granny’s eyes sharpened. “Mia, you ain’t saying anything. Neither is Kraven. I really want to know. You mean Giovanni of the Mafia? What does Kraven have to do with them in the first place?” My lips parted, but no sound came. Shame clamped my throat shut. Her gaze burned into me, demanding an answer I couldn’t form. “Wait! Wait!” She lurched forward, pointing a shaky finger straight at Kraven. “You mean this—” her hand trembled, “you mean this is Kraven of the Astor Mafia Empire?”

But with Sophia, those walls seemed to be crumbling, piece by piece. And it scared him. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. He didn’t want to feel. But when it came to her, it seemed like he didn’t have a choice. Mr. Black leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He needed to get a grip. He needed to remind himself of who he was—what he was. He was a Mafia Don. He couldn’t afford to be anything else. But the image of Sophia’s tear-streaked face haunted him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake.

Boxes labeled RAVENWOOD, RICCI, DJOKOVIC, and KORSHUNOV are stacked high. And right in the middle- a folder stamped L. RICCI in thick black ink. Everything I’ve learned about him so far is inside. Lucien Ricci- firstborn son of two, heir to the Ricci empire. His younger sister, Aurora Ricci-beautiful, kind, smart, the kind of girl polished enough to be mistaken for perfect. Except she doesn’t belong to the inner circle of heirs and heiresses. No Elite connections. No close friends among the mafia kids either.

“Alessia.” Ivan shrugged. “We already know your name. I’ve heard so much about you, against my will.” Dante’s voice cut in, low and firm. “Ivan.” Ivan raised both hands in mock surrender. “I don’t want to offend the mafia don. He might chop off my fingers or do some other mafia thing to me.” I laughed, harder than I meant to. The sound surprised me. It felt foreign after days of nausea and quiet anxiety. Maxim waved a hand. “Don’t mind him. He never stops teasing Dante for choosing his grandfather’s path and becoming a mafia boss instead of… I don’t know, being a doctor or something civilized.”

I then open my laptop to check out the info Alex sent me. I open the email where Rhys and his son Zayden meadows information is there. I need to know whom I am dealing with in case things go worst. In the shadowy underworld of organised crime, one name reigns supreme: Rhys Meadows. The ruthless and cunning Mafia King has built an empire through blood, sweat, and tears, crushing all who dare oppose him. His reign of terror is legendary, and his power is unmatched.

He started walking toward us with others trailing behind him. When they came near, my stomach dropped by his sight. Noooooo.....no...way....pls don't let him be him.....pls God..... But my little prayer was not heard by God as I could easily get the close view of him. ALPHA KING more like Royal king. I stood there like a statue watching him heading to our side. ......He has a connection with some mafia too. .........Never get caught my eyes. ............Mafiaaaa. Ohh God....save me.....i..i...What should I do......run...yes...run...

"Because the master is... well, he used to be royalty.." Izora's gaze focused narrower. “royalty? Like pure royalty?” The maid nodded. "Yes." “He belonged to a prince. His family comes from European nobility—old money and strong ties. The master left all when his older brother was crowned king.” Izora blinked silently. She was mute. "You're saying that the mafia king I wed is a real prince?" “Indeed. We thus address you Lady Izora. You have him married to you. That makes you a princess technically.”

“Weird that you would mention him now—” “But I did not,” Samson Interrupted, “you see that's the problem, you are yet to get over that one obstacle and now you're head over heels over—” he stopped to take a good look around the room, safe to say he was still conscious of the gun from yesterday, “a mafia what again?” “Prince. A mafia Prince.” I corrected it. I felt uneasy with the way Samson pointed out things. I wasn't angry or pissed at the fact that he posted them out. I was angry at the fact that I was seeing some sense in what he was saying.

~ GIULIA’S POV ~ “What?” I blinked hard, still trying to catch up. “He’s a mafia prince? A Russian mafia prince?” Dante nodded once, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark like a storm gathering at sea. “Yes. Prince Vince Ruger, Son of Don Nikolai Ruger. These people aren’t just dangerous… they’re monstrous.” The silence that followed felt too loud, like the world had paused to listen. Dante leaned against the hood of the car, arms folded tightly across his chest, jaw clenched tight.