Romans & histoires Mafioso And Chance Forsaken

"And Jet, you're dismissed." Jet and Marcus left, leaving me alone. As the door closed, I leaned back in my chair, studying the photo of Siara once more. I tapped a finger against the edge of the folder, a predatory gleam in my eye. "What a bloody good coincidence," I whispered to myself. I reopened the folder and started reading through Siara Movark's file in detail. It was no longer about the money-no, it was personal. It was revenge.

Chapter 2 Angelo; In my world, traitors and snitches are a deadly sin. Unforgivable except through death. I am Angelo Fabian. The number one ruthless Mafia Don in the whole fucking casino. And everyone, I mean, every single fucking individual knows not to mess with me. Standing in front of the three dimwits kneeling before me, rage surged in me as I corked the gun. "Now, are you willing to tell me why the hell none of you bastards have captured that traitor? Do I have to rip your tongue off before I get a goddamn explanation?"

Chance never released my hand as we left the clouds and death behind, escaping if only for a little while. He just kept murmuring, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you forever,” into my temple. But would it be enough? Could we survive joining the mafia? Jack said that Chance killing Marino meant he had to become the next Ill Padrino in order for both Chance and I to be safe. What's the plan, daddy? Tell me what's going on in your head. All I could hear was him telling me that he could not give me shame and death, all those months ago now.

THIS MAN! ************************EVE'S FORBIDDEN!!!!!! THE END

We’re playing with fire, and the flames are getting closer by the second. Gianni’s ominous threat puts Francesca and Sofia on edge, knowing that the danger is far from finished. With Marco still away and the pieces of Gianni’s game fitting into place, Francesca must prepare for the storm that’s about to hit ... .before it’s too late.

Chapter 1: Interest in Flesh Trope: Mafia / Debt / Captive Heat Level: [NOIR] The basement smelled like damp concrete and expensive cigars. Sofia sat on a wooden chair, her hands tied behind her back. She looked up as the heavy metal door groaned open. Marco stepped in. He wasn't wearing a suit today…just a black undershirt that showed off the tattoos climbing up his neck. He was the man her father owed five million dollars to. And since her father didn't have the cash, he had offered Sofia instead.

I said. “That doesn’t mean I would go head-to-head with them for such a trivial matter.” “It’s not trivial.” “From the look of things, it is. She would be fortunate to still be alive at this moment. She betrayed them and in our world, betrayals, gets killed.” “But you shot two of their men, doesn’t that go against them?” I asked. Yes, I clicked a few things after reading through that document. They weren’t sent by the Italian mafia by the Russian.

Arnulfo kept his cool, not giving anything away. "Vito," Arnulfo said, his voice steady but his mind already racing through the plan. "I need a favor. A big one." Arnulfo could feel the wheels turning in Vito's head. Vito was the head of a rival mafia group which had influence and reach over the city. They'd met before, but in no way that required them to become this close. Arnulfo knew that asking for help from a man like Vito was dangerous-but desperate times called for desperate measures.

That memory kept me alive through the years till I came back. My parents have been accused of being traitors and were executed. I was banished for their alleged crimes. In exile I had discovered my strength. I raised my free hand and a thick black mist oozed out. Now I was back and this time no one would dare push me around. “Tomorrow you’re going to order the execution of Amara and I will become your Luna.” I felt Kael stiffen in my arms. I turned to him. I placed my hands on his cheek and turned it to face me.

“You have betrayed us, attempted to murder your own leader, and worst of all—you stole an innocent child for your personal gain. The council knows everything now.” Marco's mouth parted, but no sound came. His game is over now. “All that remains,” Vescari said coldly, “is your punishment. And I assure you, Marco Rossi, it will befit every sin you’ve committed. You will—” “No,” came Nikolai’s voice. What? Every head turned in confusion towards Nikolai. Even mine.