Mafia Seat Novels & Stories

Three months had passed since the explosion that supposedly ended the reign of Nikolai Volkov. Three months since Russia mourned the fall of a king and Sergei had taken over the position as the acting leader of the gang. In Tuscany, Italy, on a long table in the centre of a dim room sat in dark suits, the European mafia Council, the highest circle of the Eastern underworld. Every seat was taken by dozens of high-ranking members who sat stiffly, their expressions carved with worry. The air smelled of cigar smoke, gun oil, and whiskey.

And then my eyes landed on Rico and beside him with Diego , the mafia leader of the Italian mafias , I could tell deep within myself that he had already bought ties with the man he sat with . “If it isn’t the famous Killian Blackwood, then who else would it be ? The potbelly man who I had seen when I walked in announced loudly as he let out a hard and disgusting laugh that utterly took me off the edge. Zade and Luca took the seat beside me as we sat facing the man. Rico smiled at me, the kind of smile that meant a challenge or even still the rotten anger in his face was just ending to show that he had something to do with this.

Sasha Sergeyushka gestured for us to sit. We did. Without as much as breathing wrongly. And the silence held like a noose. “We are gathered,” Don Valenti spoke, one of the older Capos from the Bronx. “Three men have claimed right to the throne of New York. But only one may rule.” The table creaked as the elders leaned forward. “You have earned this,” said another, voice gravel and smoke. “Each of you, killers, leaders, rulers, kings in your own boroughs. But this seat,” he pointed to the lion-carved throne behind the Godfather's seat, “belongs to one. And it is eternal.”

I blurted out, standing on my feet. Drex pulled out the chair by the table, placed it close to the bed facing me, and sat down, crossing his legs. "Meet Albertrosso Cruzeiro, the head of the Malgavio clan. A mafia Lord. The billionaire drug lord and one of the four feared kings of the underworld. He is, as we speak, the only candidate running for the position of number one sit of this city. He has a wife and two sons and a spoilt brat daughter. Rumor has it that he has a son by another woman, bore to him out of wedlock. His whereabouts are unknown till date" he explained a wide grin on his face as if he just read a satisfying bedtime story to a five-year-old child.

The room was silent as they were all waiting for what I wanted to say next, the only distracting sound was the crunching sound Mateo was making as he stuffs his face with cookies. "I own the Italian-American Mafia. You can say it's the most fearful Mafia in the continent." I sat on the desk facing the group while they all stood proud knowing they were part of it all. "And you," I point to Mateo as he freezes midway putting a cookie in his mouth. "you've been the best detective for years. You know things the White House would pay millions to hear. You've handled cases that screams danger like it was child's play. You know the in and out of the federal police and now, you're working for me as

Today though, the air feels different—dense. My eyes catch sight of a stack of formal papers neatly arranged on my father’s mahogany desk. Official pack seal… That can’t be good. “Aella, come in,” Father’s voice reverberates from behind the desk, where he sits with his usual composed demeanor. He’s Alpha and Capo of Chicago; an Italian mafia sect that controls the city. “You wanted to see me, Father?” I say, moving close to his desk and trying not to show how I’m trying to make out the pack seal on the envelope.

“He makes a good point, Kierra. Noir de Costas remains the biggest mafia vigilante group after they’ve moved from Sicily. No one’s greater since.” I put a finger on my chin and thought aimlessly. “A new mob group will wreck Noir’s plans,” Sebastian said warily. “Aemond’s father is the current governor in Belmont.” “Great, then we can ask him about it.” And so, our plan was made. _____________ Sebastian and I were in the car with Tobi on the passenger seat, sleeping against Alessio’s lap. We were off to drop him at his new school before heading to the governor’s mansion.

I said, my voice dangerously calm, "your presence here is an insult. And who are you to question my right? By our own rules, you are as unfit as anyone you might accuse. Your family's alliances are fluid, your reach is limited." Vlad chuckled, a dry, grating sound. "Ah, but that is where you are mistaken, Sokolov. I have secured an alliance that not even your ruthlessness can counter. An alliance that brings true power, true legacy, back to the Tenevaya Bratva." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, allowing the tension to coil tighter. "My family will soon be tied to a once powerful mafia family in Italy." A murmur swept through the room. The elders exchanged glances, their impassiv

"I'm Mia. Angelo's cousin, for my sins. Someone has to keep an eye on the legitimate side of this family's money, so that's me." I found myself almost smiling, the first real one in what felt like days. "Milene." "I know who you are." Mia's gaze flicked toward the door Mara had just slipped out of, then back to me, and her voice dropped, just slightly. "I also know you've already met Roberto." My smile faded. "How do you know that?"

“Everything’s ready inside. Security has been checked twice.” I nodded. “Good. You can leave after you bring in the files from the North office branch tomorrow morning.” “Yes, Boss.” He left, and I walked in alone. The place looked new, I dropped my coat on the couch and moved toward the window. The view was nice, at least Luca knew I loved seeing the night lights and traffics. He has been with me since my Dad sent me out of the country the if his death before he passed out. I had worked hard like a dog, clawing my way up through blood and loyalty until the name Vicente Russo started to echo again in the underworld, not as the son of a dead man, but as the man himself.