Romans & histoires Marked By The Mob

It was why she hated him so much to this day. I refused to be humiliated again, especially not after the stunt Kael had pulled in front of the entire pack. “Your mate?” His brows furrowed sharply, his expression darkening. “This isn’t a fucking mate mark,” he snapped. “This is a curse.” Before I could react, his hand slammed against the wall beside me, pinning me there. His grey eyes bored into mine, intense, wild, filled with something dangerous I couldn’t quite name. My mind spun, completely overwhelmed.

“Then make it exist. You’ve carried us this far, through betrayal, through blood. Don’t stop now.” A long silence settled between them, filled only by rain. Down in the square, the remnants of their pack gathered, their howls echoing faintly through the night, low, grieving tones that carried loss and loyalty in equal measure. Nora looked down at her hands. The marks had deepened, darker veins of light running beneath her skin, pulsing with strange energy. The Mark of the Bridge. Once a curse. Now… a living thing. “What if this isn’t power, Roman?” she murmured. “What if it’s punishment?”

But nothing came. The silence stretched. Then Rafe whispered, “Maddox… your neck.” My hand lifted automatically. I touched it. Blood. Warm and fresh. The tiny cut the woman gave me earlier… was bleeding again. But wounds don’t reopen on their own. I stared at the smear of red on my fingertips, heartbeat thundering. Jaxon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s a mark. She marked you.” My wolf snarled, teeth snapping. “She marked me to get to her.” I snarled.

She spun, knife up, searching the dark. “The next one won’t be,” she warned. “I hope not,” I murmured, stepping easily over her trap. “I’d hate to be disappointed in my future mate.” Her knife flashed through the air. I caught it by the handle, the blade halting inches from my cheek. The silence let me enjoy the weight of it in my hand... well-balanced, sharp, wrapped in weathered leather. Mara’s mark was carved near the base: a crescent moon and three lines. Old rebellion. Old blood. She’d likely never told Maeve what it meant.

My ragged appearance clashed with the elegant surroundings, drawing sidelong glances and whispers. A shrill, venomous voice echoed from behind me. "Well, if it isn't our tireless delivery dynamo, Noah Lane." Turning around, I saw Mark and his cronies standing there. I pressed on without pause, lugging my gear deeper into the lobby, but Mark had no intention of letting me slip away. He and his entourage encircled me, gawking as if I were a circus freak. "Check this out." Mark theatrically pinched his nostrils, feigning offense at some imagined odor. "A grubby schmuck waltzing into Regal International? Security! What's this place coming to, letting in street scum? It's revolting!"

I said, trying to rationalize the horror. "No, they have the Mafia signature on them," he replied. His tone was grave, and I felt a chill run down my spine. Cassius had a reputation, one that sent shivers through even the most hardened criminals. Anyone he killed bore his signature—a stark letter M etched into their foreheads. It was as if he wanted the world to know who was behind the violence, taunting the authorities who had failed to catch him for five years and counting.

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.

"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?"