Marked By The Mob Novels & Stories

Would’ve I was dead? I quickly got up from my bed, turning on the lights. I ran over to my mirror and looked at myself in horror. There was a huge bite mark on my right shoulder. It was still slightly red, but it couldn’t have healed this quickly. I ran my hands over the new sore, grimacing when I felt pain. It wasn’t a dream?

Cars with their hoods dented, broken glass scattered and glowing in the afternoon sun like embers of fire. “Where are you?” I yell into the phone. “I have the money. Let’s make a deal,” “Yes, I see the news. You’ve made quite a mess,” Mark says like he’s somewhat impressed. I look at Andrew expecting him to be fully focused on me, but he’s staring straight ahead. He’s squinting and I follow his gaze. There’s movement. At first I can’t make out what he’s seeing, but a second later I do. It’s the mob. And they’re coming at us fast.

I needed a hat trick. "Don't fail," Mark said with warning as he turned toward his office, his hand shaking slightly as he went. I felt a moment of pity for him but it passed quickly when I remembered what an ass he could be. I could convince myself that he deserved it. Sorta. Why Mark cared so much, I would never know, but I could tell he was worried about it. I knew the head of the mob didn't visit the lowly lawyers on their payroll unless they wanted to make a point and I had gotten the point loud and clear. Do not fail. I wasn’t planning on it to begin with, but if he felt the need to threaten me in person, well, I should take a small modicum of pleasure in the fact that I was important

“See that guy? The one in the black hoodie? Look at his arm.” The officer squinted at the screen. “What about it?” “Check out the tattoo. It looks familiar.” I felt a chill run down my spine as I recalled a conversation I had overheard. The officer leaned closer, then nodded slowly. “I know that symbol. It’s the mark of Les Ombres Écarlates. They’re a dangerous mob group operating in the area.” My heart dropped. “Les Ombres Écarlates?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s connected to Isabelle. Fuck, she’s still pulling strings, even from behind bars.”

Paul and I take only a few steps before Mark stops us and sends one of his companions to get a car. I am embarrassed at how pathetically grateful I am not to having to walk. It's only a short trip, no more than a couple of minutes. Goldhawk territory looks no different to the streets we have been driving through. That has to be intentional. It's sensible to blend in. Mark points out the pack tags spray-painted onto walls along with other random graffiti, marking the territory boundaries, which is helpful.

Jake has touched the lion's tail! "Sir!!!!!" Richarlison rushed into the bedroom Mark was panting, "The black axe mafias'are on their way here.... They'd kill you on sight! Your only immunity against them is the silver ring or you at the military base!" "I know!" Mark responded... "We have to go..." With that said, they left hurriedly and when the black axe mafia arrived, they found nobody but their Intel told them they were going to be here, except there is a mole amidst them who would have informed him we were coming...

Luckily, Mark held the girl's body before Melody fell to the floor. "Don't worry, I didn't kill women and children!" added Mark with a meaningful smile. Seeing that there was no movement at all from Melody, Mark chuckled softly, he then lifted Melody's body and took her to a room that was much tidier and quieter than the previous place. Mark put Melody's body on the sofa in the room. How could Melody forget? Mark is a mafia boss, it's not difficult for the guy to shoot the gun. "What's wrong with your expression?" Mark squinted at Melody confused.

Elara, I want to deepen my mark on you, as if I could bite into your very soul to ensure no one else dares to claim you," Damian replied, flushing Elara's cheeks with embarrassment. For other she-wolves, such a mark might instill fear of their own fated mates, as the meaning of a marking for a she-wolf signifies possession and dominance by her mate. "Hahaha, mark me again if you wish," Elara retorted, slipping off her cardigan to reveal the string strap of her blouse and the mark on her fair shoulder to Damian. "Sorry, this might hurt a bit," Damian murmured, kissing Elara's skin before tracing his mark on her shoulder with his tongue and then sinking his fangs into her flesh.

“His… his body was maimed. Torn apart. There were claw marks, deep ones, and his… his throat was slashed. A symbol was carved into his chest. Malrik’s mark.” The room fell deathly silent. The scout’s voice trembled as he continued. “It was unmistakable—a wolf’s paw, but twisted. The claws extended unnaturally long, curling into jagged edges like talons. The center of the paw held a crescent moon encased in flames, the lines precise and deliberate. Blood was smeared over the carving, making it all the more grotesque.” Gasps and murmurs erupted, but Zeke silenced them with a sharp look. “He’s marking his territory,” Zeke growled. “He wants us to know this was no random attack. This was persona

And not for how they looked at us. They didn’t even hide it. The cityfolk stared as we walked through the marketplace, Lior's scarf pulled high over his ears to hide the marks that branded us Moirea. My cloak was enough to dull the glow in my eyes, but it didn’t stop the sneers. "Filthy things." "Shouldn't be allowed past the wall." "Watch your coin, that one's got thieving hands." Lior kept his head down. Moved fast. Knew which stalls wouldn’t overcharge too much.