Massimo Mancini Novels & Stories

Kenny's pov When the hunk of a man asked me for my name I hesitated only for a few seconds, my wolf has been screaming in my head about all four of them being my mates but I ignored her. I couldn't have a mate as I was destined to die after I kill the son of a bitch alpha. She tried to tell me something but I blocked her out, not wanting to get my hopes up of a happier life. That was why I decided to give them my name, I had nothing left to lose. "It's Kenny, Kenny McKenzie alpha of the extinct White Moon pack" I answered him with my head held high and shoulders straight. The shock and disbelief on their faces almost made me laugh, but the sadness of my words stopped that in its track, if I

"And that knucklehead over there is Major, head of security and Boss's guard." "You work beside him?" "Not beside him per se, that would suggest that I am one of his oldest friends, I work more for him." "Oldest friends?" Rosalie chortled as she leaned forward onto the counter. "I don't think he is capable of having friends." "Oh, no. They are more like his childhood companies that became brothers. His second-in-command; Vincenzo Moretti, the one with the green eyes. Lorenzo Balducci, the man who ensures everything is in order for the boss. Marcelo Vitali, the chief of staff. And Romeo Alleva, the one in charge of recruits training. These five guys have been together since they were born. Al

I - when I raised it with dad I was furious at you and I - I thought maybe you would love me with time or I can always say no before the wedding," said Aryan. Salvatore looked at him. "I don't love anyone in this world and I never will. I am incapable of that and you are barking up the wrong tree. With me you will never have anything you want or desire," said Salvatore. "Don't be so dramatic," said Aryan. "Oh, well, have you heard if the Capo, Aryan?" asked Salvatore. "Of course who hasn't," asked Aryan surprised. "It's me, Salvatore El Manzoni," said Salvatore and looked at Aryan whose hand fell from his shoulder and he was looking at him in shock.

Her eyes weren't teary but she would burst into tears at any slight of provocation. Maximo Santino was there but he stand out. Why? Because he's the Boss. Because he's the peak, because he's the Sky, because he's the lifeline of masses. The Italian Mafia Boss himself. He was dressed in his normal dressing code. A White shirt and a Black pant trouser. A complete suit but he never button up the shirt. The tops button was left undone to reveal his solid chest and makes him more sexier. He was smoking his cigar gingerly but passed it to Marco who stood behind him as Iris Drew nearer. He's breathtakingly beautiful and elegant. Captivating and alluring. As Iris drew nearer to him, she couldn't hel

He tenses beside me, his jaw clenching, but he doesn’t push me away. The men are playing cards, stacks of cash piled high on the table. Massimo is winning, his movements precise, his presence commanding. He’s untouchable, a god among men, and I’m practically vibrating with the need to be his. I lean in, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, “You’re unstoppable tonight, aren’t you?”

He smiles. Greco Mancini is a sixty-five years old Sicilian Patrician of Sicily, Italy; word has it that he doesn't only handle clean money but also dirty money. He's a scary man, but right here and now, the dangerous man looks clean and excited about his son's arrival after five years.

The door opened, interrupting my thoughts, and two tall men came in, walking towards me, both wearing black suits; one had a scar coming down his eye, and the other had a neck tattoo of a snake. "Look at those breasts, Magus." The scared guy smirked, looking over to the neck tattoo guy, which he called Magnus. What sucked most about having a severe stab wound that was completely vulnerable, I couldn't get up or kick these perverted assholes in the heads. Alessandro was right I can't look after myself properly. "I'm gonna have a fun time with you, Piccola Ragazza," Magnus darkly chuckled, picking my legs up and throwing me over his shoulder. I cried out as my injured thigh came into contact w

A tall and fit looking man followed her behind and I deduced he was probably her body guard. "Hey baby!" She flung herself onto Manuel's body and then, did he finally look at me. I only hoped I didn't look as sad as I felt. He pulled his eyes away from me almost immediately, and smiled at the woman in his arms. His fiancee. Her bodyguard calmly walked up to me and introduced himself. "Hello ma'am." "Hello." "I'm Massimo. I work for the Don. So sorry about the mix up." For him to have referred to Manuel as 'the don' in my presence, then it only meant he was aware I knew they were mafians. And he wasn't her bodyguard after all.

Aware that I crossed the line today, a massive regret was coming on my way. . In a factory building for stuffed toys, the owner welcomed me with open arms. He was older than me by two years, robust in his features, and his arms were covered with tattoos. His neatly trimmed mustache and beard which was a trend these days gave him the aura of a dangerous man. Indeed, he was dangerous for this factory for fluffy toys were only his facade. He was Martin Mancini, half Italian half American, leader of one of the biggest mafia in Italy. My friend, my big brother.