Mafia The Brigade Of Knowledge Seekers の小説・ストーリー

I’d had four guns pointed at me within a short amount of time. I shook my head. “No. That’s fine.” I took my phone out, sliding it to him on the counter. He caught it, but his eyes remained on me. “Are you doing okay?” I nodded. “I’m good. I mean, we’re in the lap of luxury for places to hide out in.” I gestured to Octavia. “Though, I’m confused about that place. Doesn’t a different mob family run that?” “Cole Mauricio. They’re active in Chicago, but Trace’s family and mine have an understanding with them.”

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Bria shouts. "Mia is not poor. She is wealthy. She made the Costa family the second most influential family in the Italian Mafia. Now go back to your parents and run your family business. Your father is getting old and will need his heir to run his business soon," I say. Bria looks at me with puppy dog eyes. It may work with her older lovers, but it does not work on me.

“You mean, so all this time you were a member of the Aldebrando mafia group based in Italy? And that Keith Gilbert turns out to be Keith Aldebrando, the leader of the Aldebrando mafia group whose existence has only been considered an urban legend? Did I hear it correctly, Alan Chen? Cecilia stared in disbelief at all the lengthy explanations (but condensed by the man so as not to waste time and she really appreciated the man's efficiency) from Alan Chen, met with an anxious nod from Alan himself.

So if everyone assumes that about my family, what’s the point of hiding? “Bratva,” I say and she turns her head again, a frown forming on her face. “We’re called Bratva, not Mafia; that term is reserved for the Italians.” Her eyes grow wide. “Holy shit, it’s true then? You’re-” “What you would call a Pakhan, yes. I’m the head of our Bratva sect,” I explain to a surprised Cherie. “You’ll find most organized crime families in this country are shifters. It’s just easier to build a reputation that way.”

As if I didn’t bathe in blood to get here. “Your attention, gentlemen,” my voice boomed, quieting the murmurs. I waited for the eyes of my allies to focus on him before continuing. “I have called you all here because a great betrayal has presented itself within our ranks; something Dom over here predicted would happen weeks ago,” I say, placing a hand on my brother’s shoulder. “We are betrayed, famiglia, and by none other than the Brigăzi.” Romanian Mafia; the fuckers were linked directly to Alberto Moretti when he was still Underboss.

Nicole stared at her laptop, eyes roving around the white screen. Her hands eagerly danced on the keyboard. She was perturbed, she was frightened, she was scared. Any words that could describe this sudden agitation and horror that she was drowning in. She was petrified as she kept on surfing on the net. Mafia. She was researching about mafias. The more she searched, the more horror struck she became. "A mafia is a type of criminal organisation whose central activity is the arbitration of disputes between criminals and the organization and efforcement of illicit agreements through the use of violence"

I started to question if she even knew his favorite song or book. A mafia presence in our small town was only known to me through the rumours spread by the popular kids at school. They claimed that the Brzezinski family, a powerful and wealthy group with international connections, had established themselves as one of the oldest families in the community. It was said that no one who crossed them survived to tell the tale. This knowledge was enough to make anyone nervous, regardless of its truth. However, my Aunt Grace claimed to be dating Aamon Brzezinski himself. Being even more protective than my mother sometimes, I trusted that he was safe around us.

"You want to know what's the coolest?" Seira nodded quickly. "All four packs rule their Mafia syndicate," Seira's mouth hit the floor. "Mafia?!!" She exclaimed. "Like in the books, that's so freaking cool!" "What are you talking about so close?" Hunter ambled into the kitchen, ignoring the duo as he walked over to the fridge, getting himself a bottle of water.

"Is this your idea of a declaration of war? I hope you've prepared for the consequences." Benedicto—one-third Italian blood, excommunicated from the Triad, and now the head of his own rogue syndicate—was a man driven by ego and greed. His trade? Drugs and human trafficking. Two businesses Don Salvatorre detested with an almost religious fervor.