Mafia Prince Novels & Stories

“Life has been hard in Switzerland. I didn’t have enough money to pursue my art. Then I learn that my father wasn’t my real father. My real father has been in jail because of his involvement in the mob. I had to quit school. And because of that I came to know my boss. Since then I had been used as a tool.” Right, he travels the world as a musician. It would be easier for him to get jobs done without raising suspicion. “My boss doesn’t have that much ambition. He’s content of how he runs our clan in Switzerland. Until I met Luciano. He plans to take over New York. And he can’t do that with the Russians controlling the business.” “You already knew who I was even before we met?” I asked him, al

In fact, I don't believe in fairytales, they are just imaginary illusions that blind us to the reality of life. This man in front of me, who's supposed to be the misunderstood prince is Malakai Lorenzo, mafia king of the biggest underworld organization known in New York, and my father just had to go ahead and gamble all his money to his organization, now my father owes a huge sum of money to this bastard.

His rage simmered just below the surface, threatening to shatter his carefully crafted composure. He never got stolen from. It was an abomination to those who knew him. It was an unforgivable transgression. And yet, it had happened. With his rage will come chaos. His perpetrators will pay, they always do. It was a promise, a known fact. He is Stefano De Rico. A Mafia kingpin whose name sent shivers down the spine of even the most hardened criminals. He is the master of the underworld. He tames even the wildest beasts that refuse to bend to his will.

That wasn't even funny I gave him a slight punch on his elbow then I walked upstairs to the indoor cinema following his directions. "Wow, wow and wow!" I exclaimed on seeing the room. There were like six sofas and then a big screen in front, I think it was part of the wall. "you like it?" I heard him ask. "yea" I replied paying little or no attention to him. "I'm an only son from a royal family, my parents were killed when I was ten years in a mafia rivalry and all this are theirs "he said in a sad tone.

He had the heir position, the respect from his father, and the man who was supposed to control him now bent over for him when he wanted. But as the meeting ended, one of the captains got a call. His face went white. “What is it?” the Don asked. “The Morettis just hit one of our clubs in the city. Twenty dead. They left a message. For the prince.” Leo’s blood ran cold. Kai stepped closer, hand on his gun. “What message?” The captain swallowed. “They said the prince’s new toy will not save him. They know about the bodyguard.” Leo looked at Kai. The heat between them suddenly felt like a weakness.

Well the answer was simple I said yes, I had to sign a few papers that made me officially his, and I got a new school Id with my name on it "Sophia Vitale" I moved well officially moved to Dimitri's room, we spent Saturday talking and getting to know each other. I found out why they all call him prince due to his status with the mafia he's the Vitale empire heir. I still wasn't cool with the criminal part but I could do nothing about it.

But there’s no time. “What do we know about the niece?” I ask as we climb into the car. “Not much. She’s eighteen, a senior in high school. Red hair, blue eyes.” “Anything else?” “Straight A’s. Doesn’t date.” “Doesn’t date?” I raise a brow. “Yup. No boyfriend. No drama.” What teenage girl in America doesn’t date? Weird. But she’s a mafia princess, so maybe not that weird. We arrive at Sal’s house around 3 p.m.

PIETRO’S POV . I’ve been tagged a lot of things; Beast, Reaper, Dark Prince, Killer, Monster, Psychopath, Murderer, Mad Prince, and several others. Personally, I think the term “Mad Prince” suits me best. Because only a madman can do the things I’ve done. But I’m a King now. “Mad King.” .

“So a contract?” I smirked, lying through my teeth. “More like a betrothal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Never thought mafia played the old-fashioned games too.” My eyes cut to him sharply. “Who the hell are you, really?” His smirk deepened. “Prince Roman. From the royal family in the West.” I stopped dead. My lips parted. “West…? You mean… Bahogany City?” He nodded once, proudly. I staggered back, breathless. Bahogany. The greatest city of all. The city my mother dreamed of for me. The city I should have belonged to.

A shiny formal suit from the Dior brand with one hand in his pocket, his eyes squinting straight ahead a Christopher mansion in front of his eyes. "Take out all the gifts I bought," Prince ordered his personal driver. Prince Dawson Mardison the eldest son of Marvel Mardison and Diandra Paisley Mardison. A handful of the richest billionaires in New York, and Prince has known Christopher's family quite well because Kenneth Christopher's wife is good friends with his mother. They came from the same division, when they were still working as secret agents. "Prince you've come." Prince approached and hugged the woman's body whose height was up to his chest. "Mrs. Christopher how are you?" said Pri