Novel & Cerita Mafia Princess Books

There are other mafias too but these are good mafias. French Mafia is from Amelia's side family and my and Amelia's marriage was an arrangement but eventually we fell in love and had seven kids. Time to say bye to Italy for some time.

Mia's POV. Italy smelled like freedom and fresh espresso. It was a stark contrast to the suffocating opulence of my past life. Here, I wasn’t the Valisteen Princess; I was just Mia. No bodyguards trailing my every move, no constant threats looming over my head. Or at least, that’s what I wanted to believe. But danger had a way of finding me. That bitch.

"Please, enlighten me. Your father will kill me when he knows what? That his daughter spreads her legs easily for anyone? Let's not lie to each other. You and I both know I am not your first. Besides, now that we are talking about it, how many had a round with you before me today?" "I am a princess of..." she starts to rant before I place my hand on her lips. I let my fingers sink into her cheeks, and I hear her let out a small cry of pain. "Mafia princesses remain virgins for their husbands. They are jealously guarded and live like fucking recluses within the walls of their house. You do not hear them. They are discreet, elegant, submissive, and educated to satisfy the needs of the Family.

Their expressions turned serious at once. They finally understood: I wasn’t some lost, weak princess waiting to be “taken in.” I wasn’t a lonely girl Sophia could destroy. I was Mia. The woman who controlled the new Italian Quarter shipping lines. The woman none of their families could afford to anger. I stood and walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window. Beneath me lay the richest, most dangerous streets in the city. Mafia bosses. Old money. Greed. Betrayal. A million secret deals happening in the dark.

"And..." "...his women." Valeria's eyebrows drew together. "You think Luca will want Isabella simply because she belonged to Lorenzo?" Don Rossi nodded confidently. "It happens all the time." "Power intoxicates people." "Especially new kings." "They become greedy." "They convince themselves that everything the former ruler possessed now belongs to them." He smiled again. "If Luca truly sees himself as the new Mafia King..." "...then sooner or later..." "...he'll want Lorenzo's greatest prize." "Isabella."

Few minutes later I saw a waiter pushing a tray of food towards us, God No! What's Miles doing? when he got to our table he stopped then placed the tray of food on our table. I opened mine after Miles had opened his even though I was very hungry . "Spaghetti and steak?" I said out loud. "What? you don't like it?" Miles asked. "No, nothing" I said. The meal wasn't the problem it was the price like who hates spaghetti and steak I'm not vegan but a meal like that for $300. Mia it's just a gift I said to myself .

I was in the living room, handling some work, and casually asked the smart assistant to play some music. "Alexa, play some jazz." "Sure. By the way, just a reminder—four days from now, at ten in the morning, you're scheduled to accompany Sienna to her prenatal checkup." My hand froze midair. My name is Victoria. And I'm not pregnant. Jonathan was walking out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair. He saw the look on my face and pulled me into his arms. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" I casually darkened my phone screen and smiled. "Nothing. Just a little tired." Jonathan kissed my forehead, his eyes tender and full of love. "Go get some sleep. Don't miss your birthday party tomorrow—you're the s

My ribs ached with every word. “The Lady Novair was a noble woman. To keep her family afloat, she agreed to marry the head of the Mafia. I was with her then—her servant, her confidante—before I was transferred to the Monsignor’s household. Eventually, she conceived and bore him a child.” The story sounded almost peaceful on the surface. But the tension clawed at me, the anticipation that something darker was about to unravel.

His face remained stoic. I noticed why he was acting this way. Guests were coming toward us and talking to us. He talked to the guests who congratulated us on our engagement. I put on my fake smile for them while, from the corner of my eye, looking at Nico, who held a small smile for the guests that vanished as thin as air. Nico's hand tightened as I saw a woman walking toward us. I knew she was an actress and also a daughter of the Mafia; her name was Anastasia Kirova. Her black eyes looked at Nico for longer, and Nico's body stiffened as she walked toward him.

But this time, I don't intend to let him reign unchallenged. Mike She's incredible. Insolent, brilliant, unpredictable. And dangerous. I drive toward downtown, the car engine growling under my nerves. Her words still echo in my head. "My father ran half of southern Italy." So there it is. The spoiled little princess I thought was naive is telling me she has mafia blood in her veins. As if I didn't already know: her way of talking to men without fear, her arrogance, that fire in her eyes when she defies me. She's not playing queen. She's been one all along.