Mafia Rules Novels & Stories

Fredrick's cries filled the room, and nobody dared to stop him. "You as*hole, she is your daughter. Is it not enough that you killed her mother? Did you want to kill her too?" he roared angrily. Nero and Alesso quietly stood beside Matteo. The mafia life is tough. They have only a handful of rules, and they take them seriously. Breaking a rule is a serious crime. Fredrick sagged in Matteo's hold and his face became unrecognizable. It is black and blue with two black eyes and blood is everywhere.

This wasn’t just female trafficking, they were minors. How dare they? It was my kingdom! I was the Russian mafia; how dare they try to do something like that under my nose? I would kill them. Without giving them a chance to think about what was happening, I quickly shot the leader of the American Mafia, who looked baffled and didn’t expect me to still be there. My men were equally swift, taking out some of their opponents. Unfortunately, one of our men got hit in the chest. He was about to collapse, but I caught him. He was alive and breathing.

"But this is Rome, this is Italy. You're out of your roots. You cannot come here and behave this way. There are rules, systems to all of this." Milano broke out into a smile, exposing his gilded teeth. "Perhaps in your little island, there were no rules. After all, the authorities you have, the mafia King and the six ruling households, crime—everything that is dark and horrid—runs amok in your streets. But here, we have rules that we follow. Our kind works from the shadows, and we are respected for doing so. Perhaps it would be a better idea if you left, mafia King."

“No one here will spill the beans on your presence. We have rules.” I glanced up at him, my eyebrows raised. “Rules?” He smirked. “Remember how I told you about rule number one when we went shopping? Well, this is rule number two: ‘No snitching’.” “What do you mean?” I asked quietly, taking note of how closely I was walking beside Logan, as though he served as some sort of barrier against the other attendees. “I mean,” he said, casually draping his arm around my shoulders, “everyone here is part of the mafia or some other criminal organization. They don’t give a shit if some billionaire’s daughter is here, and that’s if they even notice you—which they won’t. No offense.”

This is quite interesting, at least it explains why Sebastian, another cousin of Niko's has a different last name. “It is not in the mafia rules, it’s in the Salvatore family rules, each family has their own set of rules, a way to govern their families and listing traditions and obligations, duties and the like” Say what now...? I scratch my head, “It’s just new things with this family every day isn’t it?” I say with a wide smile that I don’t mean taking back my daughter. Tommy pokes my cheek with his index finger “You don’t know the half of it, I was born here and I still learn new rules every other day” We share a look and laugh before looking away.

I answered him and tried not to think too much about the title he gave me, I don't know who in his right senses calls someone whom they bought in an auction party their little bride and still insists they call them Sir or Master. “Here are the rules and regulations and there are punishments attached to them.” He called out making me quickly raise my head but put it back down when I remembered how mafia men hate people looking into their eyes, especially their subjects. “You should be at my service every time I beckon on you.” He started making me count, Rule One. “Never disobey. Whatever I ask you to do do it without questioning me.” Rule Two “You should not have any relationship with any ma

’ I smirked. Vipers. This name screamed power, dominance, and authority in the world of Italian Mafia. And today, we were finally collaborating. Our powers were equal, no doubt. But, as they said, power comes with danger. And I felt a sense of thrill to deal with danger.

Father is the head of La famiglia Oscura, the deadliest mafia. Soon enough, trading began within the gang. Guns were passed across the tables like a trade fair. Bundles of money were placed on the table, drugs like cocaine were brought out in a package nylon, blades and silencers, just name any weapon, someone here surely has it for sale. I took my cigarettes, lit up and smoked. I signaled to Mateo, and he brought me my drink. I sipped from the glass, watching every activity going on. I always come with my drink, I’ve never drunk from anything I haven’t brought myself. One of the mafia rules is not to drink or eat with your friends; you can still have dinner w

I looked at him, my bottom lip trembling. "What... what are the rules?" I asked in a shaky voice. He chuckled softly. It was a dark sound, and there was absolutely no warmth in it. He began to list them clearly, counting them off as if he had recited them a thousand times before. "One," he began, "you can never run away from here. Don't even think about it, because you will always be caught, and the consequences will be severe. Two, you should always make sure your room is clean. I expect order.

And I would remind him of what he took from me, and I would watch as the reality of his situation dawned on me. Maybe I was just as psychotic as him after all. It was a very dangerous thing to do. I was going into a world I had absolutely no knowledge of. I didn’t know anything about the mafia underworld, its history, the hierarchy, or the rules and regulations they followed. From the little I knew, every mafia group had a strict code of conduct that they followed, and breaking these rules meant instant death. Dad must have broken one of these rules, although I wasn’t interested in what he had done. I wasn’t looking for a way out.