Marcello Mobster Novels & Stories

Fortunately, she has the very best taste in everything so I was good with all of it. That afternoon, I was scheduled to meet with Max’s wife, Emilie. We had met several times after Nikolai suggested and in those times I had loaded off on all my worries that I had of Nikolai. I would talk to her and everything would seem to fall into place. Markov is one of the country’s most influential mob family. Their family had the wealth and the power. Max was running a very risky and dangerous family business. The man had enemies and dealt with difficult and influential people all over the country. My family organization was nothing in comparison to his, but Nikolai was willing to step down from being

" Logan DeAngelo is a feared, ruthless and notorious mafia boss who most of the time ranked first among the most popular and richest Mafia bosses in the entire world. And he was the very first when narrowed down to Italy....... " I sighed again, trying to give Maddy a hint that I didn't care about her lame mafia story. Seriously, she has got to stop doing this. "....... Owning powers over his family's companies and numerous power plants wasn't enough. He wanted more and everything he could lay his hands on. He's rumored to be known as the second coming of the devil himself because of his cruel ways of dealing with people below him...... "

I don’t want to see you go away, go away with your whores, with your business that I don’t want to be a part of your life, no more" *Lorenzo* I don’t know if I should be happy that Fiorella is with me now even though what I did is wrong. And I don’t regret that. ! Selfish if selfish and , a lot! I don’t want to take her away from me, that’s never gonna happen. I’m the boss of the Italian mob, not just an ordinary mob, if she thinks I’ll let her go, she’s very wrong. I don’t want to tell the whole truth to Fiorella yet, this she has discovered is only part of it, because it could scare her and she will escape from me, I will tell her soon once she is ready.

She moaned for effect, her eyes half closed and still on Eron as she grinded even more into Mikel. His breasts. His lips. His body. All on another man. He growled lowly in rage and was out of the room in no time, his head spinning. As soon as he got out, his fists began connecting with the wall countlessly, he couldn't believe he had just watched his woman get touched by another man. She loved it, he thought painfully. Get a grip, Eron. Get a grip. His subconscious kept telling him. A Mafia Lord shouldn't be this much of a pussy. Mikel had to die, he reasoned as his forehead rested on the wall.

It's been two weeks since I met vincenzo, Gabrielle, and Valentino. My mafia is hosting a ball to welcome the Italian mafia, which means I'll be seeing Vincenzo. The ball is on Saturday, It's Monday and Mia, Gabrielle and I are going dress shopping.

His skin is unexpectedly smooth. “The flower shop?!” I exclaim. Alex grins from ear to ear. I should have guessed! That is not a very common name around here: “I Fiori di Vittorio” the front for Vittorio Ricci’s dirty mafia gang. They have flower shops all over town and in other parts of the country too, which probably cover all of their illegal operations. Those employees in suits are not florists, they are mobsters! I’ll never set a foot in those shops ever again.

Gianluca Martelli, an Italian Mafia lord based in New York could be seen making his way out of his company and into the car that was waiting for him. He was a handsome man with deep blue eyes that reminded one of the deep blue seas. He was built like a demigod, with height-6'5. He had a chiseled jawline too. His eyebrows were neatly carved. His light skin which was almost pale did well in complimenting his deep blue eyes.

Because standing infront of me were two terrifying mobsters. Marcel pushed his hands inside his pocket and pulled a card out before placing it on the counter. "My offer still stands, you can contact me." He winked and walked out of the kitchen along with Harold. I took the card from the counter to tear it apart but before tearing it, I read what was in it. Marcel Delacourt, New Port, near San Marino, Pearl City, O'ahu, Hawaii. Main branch: Marcel Delacourt, Viale Maria Cristina di savoia 16 Pontasserchio, Pisa, Italy.

Over the past handful of days, the hospital had been rife with rumors. “I am.” Still no inflection, like the man had become the mask. No explanation, no excuses. So, I pressed on. “That you unified the Mafia for profit.” “I did.” I should be grateful that he wouldn’t deny what I knew to be true—that Aldo Marcello was one of the most feared Mafia kings to ever rule the streets of New York. Iron-fisted, my co-workers whispered to each other, words hushed by fear and awe. Ruthless. Domineering. Nobody can oppose his rule.