Mafia Queens Novels & Stories

The tallest of the three chuckled . "Why so soon? We just want to have some fun, I'm sure it could be fun for you as well". Panic began to rise in my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Do you know who I am?", I demanded, "cause if not, I suggest you be on your way while you still can". My voice firmer now. They exchanged glances before the third man, with a scar running down his cheek, laughed. "Oh, we know exactly who you are, Isadora Gonzalez. The new queen of the cartel. Didn't think we'd notice you sneaking out for a midnight stroll eyy?" He replied.

Jacob uttered, "You didn't do anything to us! Rex Davies, because of you Ava and I, we both lost our childhood. You are the reason for our current situation. And you want to know who I am, right? Then listen, I am the son of Mafia Lady Killer Isla. Do you understand that a Rex like you is always in my pocket? And you are scaring me by saying your lame words." Rex was shocked to hear the name of lady killer Isla from Jacob! This woman used to rule among the mafias. But in the last few years, no one knows if she was alive or dead. Because she was just lost. No one had news of her. That's why everyone thought Isla Taylor died with her kids.

I pressed my ear to the door and switched on the device. Voices came through clear. "To our new Godfather!" I knew that voice. It was Luca. I’d backed three of his casinos myself. "Seriously, Marco," Luca's voice was slick with a dirty laugh, "how did you put up with that ice queen for five whole years? Everyone says the Vettori princess is a useless ornament. Probably a dead fish in bed." A round of laughter. My nails dug into my palms.

The aloof, elegant artist Vivian had died on that bloody night. The woman reborn from the ashes was the Mafia Queen, absolute ruler of the New York underworld.

“Or maybe I had a dream. A bad one. Where trusting the Vales got us all killed. Where I died in a red dress while you watched.” The glass paused halfway to his mouth. He took a drink. Studied me. “What do you propose instead?” “We move first. Ally with the Russians before the Vales can. Buy the Naples port out from under them. Put our own man in Luca’s security detail. Cut their money, then cut their throats.” “That’s aggressive.” “I’m a Moretti.” He clinked his glass to mine. The sound was sharp. “Alright, Queen. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

These directors are also part of our underground group. No wonder they are all close, they know each other’s skeletons and Giovanni admitted it to me. Giovanni cleared his throat. “Amara Corporation is influential in the African Mafia, that’s why I approved their proposal,” he said and they were all shocked by his news. “He doesn’t look like one, I mean, in a sense of not a strict person,” someone said.

“Remind me again why you chose to stay in New York instead of living here.” He laughed, and then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I felt like a little princess, holding onto my dashing prince while we rode our carriage through our beautiful kingdom. Adrian certainly fit the look, with his chiseled jaw, dark eyes, and dangerous smile that made me weak at the knees. I could certainly see myself sitting beside him as he ruled his kingdom, and I supported him as his mafia queen. That would be a magical life.

She is the first woman to ever run a mafia, she was the first woman who controls so much power in the mafia. She is a woman who have prove a point that women are not weak, infact they are strong. She is a woman who walks, sit and dine amongst the most powerful and dangerous men. She is a woman who loves be in control and incharge. She is a woman who won't let anyone step on her. She is a ruthless and fearless woman. She is the Queen of mafia Anyone who dares to oppose or go against her always pay dearly with their lives. Elena layed on the cold ground as she shut her eyes, it was far better off than her bed which was always haunted by nightmares.

​I poured a glass of whiskey and stared at the framed copy of my debut novel sitting on the shelf. Cara Mia. ​Writing it had been my only lifeline during this hellish year. It was supposed to be a catharsis, a way to process the madness of being a mafia lord’s wife. Every page was stained with the truth of us. I wrote about the way he smelled of expensive tobacco and gunpowder, the way his Italian filtered through his lips like a prayer, and the way he looked at me as if I were the only thing in this world worth saving.

The date they were appointed as the boss and died was written below none of them were overthrown except one who was overthrown by his aunt in 1921, and after that he began seeing women take the position of been the boss, he finally reached the last photo and was shocked by whom he saw. Monalisa sat graciously on the chair he had seen other bosses sitting, she was younger and vibrantly smiled, and the smile not forced but real, other bosses smiled to but it looked unreal. He looked under the photo and saw something that literally blew his mind. ‘Monalisa Del-A-Cruz, mafia queen from 2018-till date’. ‘Oh my god’ Jeremy muttered still shocked by what he read.