Mistress Mika Katana Novels & Stories

I had no one more closer to me than him, not even those fling wives. And surely not her. I wasn't capable of loving anyone, but hers was going to be different. I hate her already. She was my enemies daughter and was now going to be my personal pawn on the facade of my wife. It's time I started encroaching om all the mafias and getting what I want.

Gladwin said taking over. "Dad," said Lilyana in a spoiled tone, she felt embarrassed. The sound of a motorbike roaring was clear, making the three of them turn towards the source of the sound. The rider wears a helmet, jacket and outfit that is all black from top to bottom. From his motorbike, it was already known who had come. Lilyana turned to her husband, there was a look of hatred there, moreover, the scars on his face from the man's punch could still be seen clearly.

except for me though. "Rico" she stroked Damon's hair. "I prepared all of your favorite food, now you let me go so I can breathe" she tapped his back and Damon released her. She looked at me and smiled, "You must be the woman that stole my Rico's heart...." I knew that my whole body was going to faint as she too stopped to think of a name. "It's Liliana" she said smiling and my heart leaped with joy. "You are even more beautiful than the way Rico describe you"

Mafia’s Maid Ashley froze on his lap as soon as she heard his demand. She was watching him without blinking her eyes as she didn’t believe the task he ordered her to do. Master Jeremy was holding a sinister smirk over his face watching her shocked expressions keenly. When she didn’t move even a bit after a few moments he bent down and sucked her nipple which was pulled out by him to wake her up from her trance.

"The note under her windshield. Eleven days ago." "Yes." "Damien, that is not a coincidence, and I need you to hear how much it is not one. The same week Marcus Vale authorized surveillance on Amelia's house, someone two hundred miles away pointed a woman with a legitimate six year old secret straight at your door. He is not trying to embarrass you. He is building a narrative. A man with a hidden mistress and a hidden child, exposed on the same week his ex-wife is fighting for her company. Do you understand what that looks like from the outside."

“She knows that we were fucking each other behind her back. In our own home.” My heart stopped beating. My eyes widened as I stared at him, the blood completely draining from my face. “She found them, Sandra. She saw the video tapes. The sex tapes we made,” David confessed, the brutal reality hanging in the quiet air between us like a executioner’s axe. “She watched it. Every single thing. There was absolutely nothing left for me to say to defend myself, because the truth was right there in front of her. She knows you were my mistress.”

"I'm not some fragile doll you can push around. Cross me, and I'll crush every bone in your body and burn what's left without a second thought." Fear flickered in her eyes, quick and raw, but she masked it with a sneer. "You bitch...." she started, but I cut her off. "Oh, I know I'm a bitch, Catalina," I cut her off, stepping forward so our faces were almost touching. "But I'm the bitch your husband actually smiles for. The one who makes him laugh, moan, and forget every second of the miserable years he spent with you. You want a secret, Catalina?"

But underneath those kind eyes is a stone-cold killer. They nicknamed her the Onryo. Which is a Japanese vengeful spirit. Returned in ghost form to harvest the souls of those that have betrayed them in life. She is the first female Don, also known as a Donna. Apparently she is a force to be reckoned with and has mastered many kinds of self defence skills. But her favourite weapon of choice is the Katana. Hence the name. The last thing her enemies see is the look of death in her eyes as she takes her revenge.

Just room service, probably, or housekeeping double-checking the mini bar. Marie didn’t move. She waited until the footsteps faded before crossing to the small table by the minibar. Her clutch sat there, slim, elegant, and mostly useless. She opened it, there were lip gloss, breath mints, a folded note from Storm with a single name scrawled on it: Dante. He was her in. A dealer, one of Storm’s informants, planted inside the casino weeks ago. He’d find her, give her the chip with the micro-recorder embedded inside. A one-time chance. One conversation. One moment of proof.

The walls were mirrored on every side, so he could watch his own muscles contract and release as he trained. He was in the middle of a set of pull-ups when she walked in. She was tall, maybe five-ten, with blonde hair that fell down her back in waves. Her body was curved in all the right places, the kind of body that men spent money to achieve. She wore designer workout clothes that probably cost more than most people's rent. Her name was Katya, and she was one of his regular mistresses. Dimitri continued his pull-ups, not even acknowledging her presence.