Maia Reficco Ethnicity Novels & Stories

“Excuse me Sirs and Madams,” Maia, the one known as the Eternal Monarch by her people who had no idea that such a title originally belonged to another, approached the table of the men and women whom she was secretly listening to. The nature of the bar, with all its noisiness and chaos made it so that its disoriented and boisterous clients didn’t notice Maia’s actions. And even if they had, it was highly unlikely that they would have paid any attention to her.

“That’s great, Mrs. Ferrer! I badly need a job now--“ “But wait, let me ask you some personal questions first.” “Yes, sure, by the way, do you still need my resume?” “No need. Let me just ask you personally. Please take a sit so, that we can talk comfortably.” “Okay...” “What’s your name?” “Elyse Marie Arcevedo, Mrs. Ferrer.” “Age?” “I’m 28 years old.” “Do you have a husband? Daughter? Or are you single?”

A distracting pawn. “Let’s start with this. I’m Ravenna Costa. Daughter of Fiona and Matteo Costa. There’s no ulterior motive to me cooking and inviting everyone over. Who knows? It might be our last home-cooked meal. Plus, I was in a sharing mood. What’s your name?”

It infuriated her in ways she hadn’t felt in years. A soft knock on the door soon pulled her from her angry thoughts. “Enter,” she snapped. Rocco stepped inside with his usual quiet confidence of a man who had slit more throats than he could count. Tall, lean, and built like a knife that was meant to cut through anything in his path. He approached her without hesitation. “You read the report?” Gianna asked, though his tense posture already gave her the answer. “I did.” He folded his hands behind his back. “So Luca Moretti is back in New York.”

I also gave them my trusty camp skillet and pan, and my kerosene mini-burner. As we sat there eating, it was my first opportunity to get a good, long, sustained look at both of the women, and I couldn't get over how attractive they both were, in their own distinct ways. Mei had exquisitely fine features. She looked like a model, or an actress playing a part, the kind of person who was too pretty for real life. Every bit of her face looked like something that was chiselled by a master sculptor. As we'd later learn, her distinctive look was in part a product of her half Japanese, half Peruvian ancestry, her parents having met in Peru and emigrated to the U.S.

Very reluctantly the Italian mafia was following in the footsteps of other enlightened organisations who saw the value in treating its female population the same as its male. Ricci knew his wife-to-be was a strong, fiercely independent woman with a healthy temper, she was a trained assassin, a sublime killer who took men by surprise at her creative ways to kill her opponents. She was tough, what she had gone through would have broken most women and a lot of men but it had made her stronger, she was a true Mafia Princess and she had earned the title.

Her long-sleeved dress looked as dark as her hair, while Enzo's button-up matched the pallid color of her nail polish. Her questions piqued his interest. Jenson stayed speechless. But perhaps she was just trying to make conversation before they talked things over. "Extremely." "AB? Or B?" "AB negative with a dash of Lykan." "I see." Mykaela nodded her head weakly. She didn't bat an eyelash or laugh at his reply. "You look more Italian than Enzo," she then commented with a giggle. They already knew a lot about his life, from the looks of it. Was she only asking these questions to see if he would lie to her face?

Because right now, I didn't freaking understand. "I have a brother just like you. Handsome, tall, and wealthy... we have fvcked twice," she replied. I choked on nothing. "Biological brother?" I asked, she beamed, "I'm no good girl, Miss Mia." I turned to Liam after hearing her words, and he looked away guiltily. "She was good at her job. I had to hire her," he replied. I sighed....Fvck's sake!

And that was the day my suffering started. *** CHAPTER 1 Hey, I’m Maya. Well… that’s what people call me anyways. My name is Amaya Nakamura. And yes, kids do make fun of my last name. Speaking of that, kids are mean. And I mean actually horrible. “Maya, oite-oide. Asa-gohan dekiteru wa yo.” That’s my mom. She’s calling me down for breakfast. Did I forget to mention? I’m half Japanese and half Canadian.

But if she is annoyed with a girl, then she must be really something else, Chloe thought. Mia plastered a fake smile and turned to greet Charlotte. The queen bee of the island. She is the daughter of one of the made men when Mia's father was the boss of the outfit. After her father retired to the island, all of them followed suit. She is beautiful with long lean legs and zero size. She is the type Nero calls as the malnutrition model, without any tempting assets. Everything is size zero. But Charlotte feels like, she is going to marry her brother someday. That's the only reason she keeps roaming around Mia, to garner Nero's attention.