Massimo Mancini Novels & Stories

The man really didn’t understand the point of the two of us NOT being able to work together, did he? “I will not work with a man that I do not trust, Alessandro. I do not know how to explain that to you, but whatever it is that you have in that head of yours, I do suggest that you drill that in your head. Now, you might wonder why, well, I am going to give you ONE small explanation.” I said, knowing that I didn’t need to go far. “I tried being your friend last night, I tried to be that support that you might need in the rough time that you are having. What did I get in return? A man that looked down upon me, blaming me for something that I don't even know, and even worse, judging me because

I joined them not too long after and grabbed a little martini of my own. "Are you Miss Mancini?" A man asked as he approached me. His attire was business casual; dark-wash jeans, and a simple white button-up. His brown hair was slicked back, and his beard kept and styled. "I am. I recognize your voice… Are you Dante DeMarco?" "I am!" He smiled. "I'm glad you remembered. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Sir Antonio Russo Sr. has told me a lot about you, you know."

"Why?" He rubbed his hands on his neck uneasily. "I recognized him. Adriano Mancini." He said the name in a small whisper, like it was sacred. I raised an eyebrow to subtly urge him to continue what he was saying. He leaned forward, putting his glass cup on the table as he said, "Mr Adriano Mancini is a wealthy man. A very wealthy man." I rolled my eyes. "I know that, but you didn't just respect him when you recognized him. It looked like you feared him too."

Alexander Mancini POV One Month Later Separately, the Franco and Mancini Mafias are capable of incredible things. They both rule with iron fists and awe-inspiring efficiency. Where the Mancini commands the respect of their peers, my brothers and I are tenaciously ambitious. Combined—we’re a force to be reckoned with.

In Italy, in a tall glass and chrome building which is intimidating and stunning to look at, a man was sitting with his attention fixed on the laptop screen he was looking at. His fingers were flying on the key pad, making a clicking sound. He is tall, with bulky muscles and handsome in a cave man kind of a way. Despite wearing a well tailored suit, he doesn't look polished like others. There is an edge in his personality, and with his huge frame, one can expect brute force from the man. It's none other than Kairo Bianche.

He was an egoistic son of a bitch, and it made my mouth water in desperation to suck his dick. “I have an asset that nobody else has. Vincenzo banished himself from the colony. I have everything ready to storm that territory. Why would I need you?”, he said, looking at me. I swallowed a mouthful of nothing and mentally prepared myself for whatever would happen after I said the next words. “You need me because you are underestimating Manuel, and that is a big mistake”, I blurted out. He blinked and moved back a little. “Manuel is just a beta”, he scoffed at me.

“Maximus has a godfather? What was his name?” I shook my head. “He didn’t tell me. But he looked… suspicious. Old, in a wheelchair, and there was this other guy with him. His name was Massimo.” “Massimo is a very common Italian name. Hard to figure anything out from that,” Caelian muttered, frowning. “His best friend’s name was Dolcezza.” “Again, pretty common. What else have you got?” he pressed.

she said. "Nine," he agreed. She hung up. Lorenzo was across the desk watching her work. "Crippa is in," she said. "He always liked you," Lorenzo said. "He liked that I didn't react," she said. "Men like him respect people who don't react." She was already dialing the next number. "Mancini." Mancini from Rome answered on the fourth ring. Cautious. His voice had the quality of a man who had learned never to sound pleased when he didn't know what was coming.

And this guy before them had a commanding presence that was difficult to ignore. "Uh, good morning, sir. How may we assist you today?" Donovan's gaze swept over the serving personnel, his expression unreadable as he assessed them with keen scrutiny. Then he focused on the young guy who had spoken to him. "I'm here to speak with the manager," he said, his voice low and commanding. "But before that, I want to see Boma." At the mention of Boma's name, their senses seemed to grow more alert as they stared at him, wondering how someone so intimidatingly attractive like him and reeked of status would be interested in an unassuming person like Boma.