Marked By The Mob Novels & Stories

Redoing a summary of my life I realize that there is no happier moment than this one, meeting Amy again was like having back a little piece of me that had been ripped off. My desire was to stay there glued to her the whole time but my duty called me, I reluctantly moved away from her and spent the whole morning trapped in the office with Aníbal and two of my security guards. ___"" Do you really think it will work? ___" I'm sure anibal was 15 years of legacy, every mobster around italy and the world knows and fears el diablo, they won't deny me support so easily, people from the south will support us you bet book a dinner with di Paolo

He placed the newborn on the floor, he looked into her green one last time before bitting on her shoulder thereby marking her. A scream of anguish was heard from the mother of the child has she looked at her baby been marked. Growling from the pack of the wolf increase as the father of the child lung forward to attack the beast but was held back by another wolf, the sound of the gun was heard as it hit it target. The monster fell back as the sliver hit him on his shoulder close to his heart, without proper treatment he knew he will be dead before sunrise. With the monster fallen, the father ran to his family picking his daughter with his mouth and his mate running down to join them, she too

For he knew that he had committed an unforgivable crime. "Garyson, look at his chest!" Mera screamed spotting an important clue. I looked to his chest, revealing half of a black mark. I ripped his shirt open, revealing the mark in its entirety. The mark of a black moon! It was the mark of the Shadow pack. Every Shadow pack werewolf would have the mark of a black moon on their body. "The evidence is overwhelming!" I said. "If I'm correct, every traitor will have a mark like this by on their body. They must not be spared!" Mera came up with a great idea.

Misty Two days have passed since I went to see my mate. He has been marked, he carries the dishonorable mark. I've never actually seen someone with that mark. It's a rare mark to see because Most are killed instead of giving that mark. I may have never seen that mark, but everyone knows to stay away from anyone who has it. I went there to get questions but left with nothing but more questions. Only horrible people get that mark. What did he do to deserve that mark?

Branded. Take that, Mark

"I'm busy with something." "Right, so there's been a few hindrances," Marct said, standing up from Jackson's lap and walking over to me. "I just had a report from my guys. Someone has been following Jackson in the last week," I fought the urge to gasp and kept a straight face, while my heart picked up. "Two people, to be exact. They're from another Mafia. The Scorpios," Marct placed his iPad right in front of me, showing a picture of a man walking across the screen, wearing all black, with a cap covering his face. Right at the back of his left hand was a tattoo of a scorpion. "Do you recognise it?"

Finally unable to stand it anymore, the enraged Blythe slashed his knife across Mark's eyes. "Ah!" Mark's piercing wail cut through the air. Ignoring the blood streaming from his eyes, he groped frantically across the ground, desperate to flee. However, the onlooking crowd pelted him with trash. "Scumbag! So what if you're rich? People like you deserve to go to hell!" "Hah! He's not the rich one. His wife is! He's nothing but a vile and malicious murderer!" The trash smacked into the blinded Mark, preventing his escape.

After pondering for a moment, he said rather troublingly, "Mark, you were too harsh with him." "I didn't have a choice. He's a tough one. He wouldn't come with me and even attacked my men." Mark shrugged helplessly. "The fight between men was always to the death. If I hadn't stopped them, he might not even be alive." "Bullshit!" Yvonne's eyes were reddened. She said through gritted teeth, "Howard's limbs have been broken! This was clearly a mob attack! Mark, you're just afraid that Howard would tell the truth, so you beat him up this way!"

“What do you need to know?” Kamala’s voice grew thoughtful. “Was there anything unusual about the mobsters who broke in? Something you noticed about how they looked, acted, or what they said?” Sylvania closed her eyes, trying to recall every detail. “They were all dressed in black,” she said slowly, “with ski masks covering their faces. But the masks weren’t plain; they had these letters on them. MZ, printed in white. It was strange.” Kamala immediately wrote this down, her pen scratching against her notepad. “MZ…” she muttered under her breath. “That’s helpful. Did you overhear them say anything specific? Anything that stood out?”

Not completely. Word spreads faster than I can move. By the time I reach the main path, people have already started gathering. Heads turn. Work stops. A woman washing clothes freezes with her hands in the bucket. A group of warriors training nearby lowers their weapons. Their stares burn into my skin worse than the mark itself. "Whose mark is that?" someone says loud enough for me to hear. "Unmarked last night, marked this morning." "Slut." "Rogue probably." "Poor Marcus."