Mafia The Brigade Of Knowledge Seekers Novels & Stories

She asked. I snatched the letter from my hand, my hands trembling as I read the letter. Everyone in the pack knew Jace was the head of the mafia and a skilled killer. The exact opposite of Conard. While Conard joined the combat, he made his own mafia, and even Alpha Killian could not say a word. If he decides to kill someone, the person would be dead before time.

“There would be the Pakhan, his second in command, a bookmaker, a counselor, his captains, then his soldiers,” “No, that is the Mafioso structure,” Salvatore chided, sliding one of the stacks across the table to him. “The Bratva does not have such a structure, rather it has people who pay tribute to the Pakhan. Oh, and you don’t have a second-in-command,” “What?” Aleksander gestured to the stack before him, changing the lesson to something more practical. “You like them?” “No, these I don’t like, their background seems questionable at best and a few them have appear to have issues with loyalty,”

Chiara Moretti Alessandro stared down at me, his jaw tight. "You say that now," he said, and took a step toward me. "But you do not understand what you are asking for, Chiara. The mafia world is not a boardroom. It is not about signing papers or making smart investments. It is a world built on blood, loyalty, and extreme violence. It is filled with people who will not hesitate to cut your throat just to send a message."

“Yes, let’s do it.” In that Italian cafe, amidst the aroma of espresso and pastries, an unlikely alliance was forged, a bond between two men from different worlds, united by their love for Isabella and their determination to protect her from the shadows that lurked in their pasts. The Mafia and the Bratva, two of the world's most powerful and dangerous organizations, were about to become one. And Isabella, the little girl who had brought them together, would never know the true extent of the power she wielded.

Nikolai crossed his arms. “Uncle Adrik teaches me boring things.” “Like?” “Chess.” “That’s useful.” “Not cool.” Damian chuckled quietly. “What exactly do you think the mafia does?” Nikolai leaned back and began counting on his fingers. “Guns.” “Fast cars.” “Secret meetings.” “Fighting bad guys.” Anton walked over at that moment. “Your description is disturbingly accurate.” Nikolai lit up. “See!” Damian rubbed his temple.

Quinn asked. “Depends…. What did he do?” “Betrayaled the Famila and he raped a nine year old.” I looked at him in disgust. The Mafia was a gang of murders, thieves and robbers but they were what you could term, loyal and royal class thieves. Pedophiles are vermin to any Mafia mob with a boss that has a head on his shoulders. I stared into his eyes. My gaze had a dead aura to it. I was completely unfazed by my plans for him.

” She groaned in annoyance as if giving in to my stupidity. "Babe... He’s Bradley Le Ossa" "Huh?" I was confused by her words and she smacked my head as if annoyed by her friend's stupidity. "Ow!!!" I grumbled under my breath. "Bradley Le Ossa, also known as Bradley the Bones!" She groaned as she spoke, but noticed I still didn't understand what she was talking about "He's a deadly mafia boss!!!" My eyes widened in shock at this. WHAT?! Yes, I knew and understood that he was a mafia member, but the boss?!

Iesha's Pov I knelt down with the other girls my age in front of the famous Hunter Beckham, my gaze lowered as my body trembled at the thought of who he was going to pick. Sweat dripped from my head and I felt a little bit nauseated, however, any mistake in front of him could cost me my life. Hunter Beckham was a well known Vampire Mafia. I had never seen him but I heard how horrible of a man he was. I heard he had no respect for women and would stop at nothing to destroy anyone standing against the empire handed over to him by his father.

G I O V A N N I P O V Grace and Dante walked outside to have some time for themselves. I understand they needed time to process this and hive it a place in their minds. Dante didn't just gain a sister. He also gained a cheating father in his mind. His mother and father were already married when Federico had an affair with Grace's mother.

They bristled, two men, with cheap jackets. “Who’s your boss?” I demanded. The older man’s jaw worked. “We got orders. Transfers. We’re paid.” “From?” I pushed. He spat, “We don’t know names. We get pickups in Marseilles, paperwork in Genoa. That’s it.” He lied badly. I saw the lie. I saw the way the man wanted to trade life for a ledger entry. Rico approached from the rear, breath steady. He’d taken one of the drivers down quietly.