Mobster Characters Novels & Stories

"To tell you that my boss isn't a bad person, sir Corey might act all tough and ridged, but he isn't a mobster you portray him to be," David explained. "Corey isn't a mobster, tell me what good do you see in him?". I said and made sure to deepen into my qualm. David grinned. "Miss, you're only saying this because you've only seen one side of him, and do trust me, I've been working for him some years now, Corey isn't the mobster he portrays to be,"..... ...... David narratively explained to me. He took his attention away, as he restarts his car.

Instead, he was back to pulling out his hair or at least giving a good impression of it. "Were you not there when that fucking asshole grabbed your ass?" "Oh please, Copernicus, guys have been grabbing my ass since forever..." "What the fuck, who?" He looked ready to commit murder. I just gave him a look. He was mental; then again, all mobster types usually were, at least that's my take.

BLACK HAND MOB*** Stella knelt on the floor along side her sister Madison who was shaking with fear vivid on her face. Stella was very much afraid of the man sitting in front of them. If front of them was sited Viper. The Man who kills without restraint. The Mafia Lord who everybody in the Mob fears a lot. The Mafia Lord who's more respected and value in the City. The Mafia Lord who at the mention of his name everyone must bow. His face was cold and stoic. If only he wasn't smiling,one would have mistake him for an angel. He was perfectly built with a well carved jawline and a handsome pretty face.

Marcel rambled on nervously after listening to her hazy brother’s explanation and precautionary measures. “Do you really believe a monster that created such a drug in the first place would also make something to stop it? He’s not looking to retreat Marcel… Victor Ambrose would have killed his own mother if he had to.” Surely Mike had seen enough over the past few weeks to easily determine what sort of person the man was. He was a certified psychopath! “So… am I going to be like an invisible creep stealing bodies from an asylum?” The girl continued to question hoping to ease the tension in her heart.

I'm familiar with most gangsters, so just in case. ''He had long hair, an ugly scarred face, and rough tattooed hands. Oh, and he was dressed in traditional robes.'' ''Oh, that's...'' Nikolai recognized the gangster right away after hearing the description. Yes, he was sure...it was none other than Hester Roswell's biggest rival; Satoru Miyamoto. He was an Alpha gangster in his early 60s and was famous for his drugs.

"Linda, are you okay?" Linda was taken aback by the familiar voice. Turning her head, she faced a handsome face. Even in the dark, the facial feature was not very clear, but she could still recognize him at a glance by the three-dimensional outline. "Martin... Martin Blackstorm ?" Before Martin Blackstorm could speak, those knocked-down robbers got up again. Seeing that Martin Blackstorm was alone, they rushed forward, hoping to use more people to subdue Martin Blackstorm. Martin Blackstorm pushed Linda Lee aside, put his right arm around to block the man's heavy punch, and with his left hand underneath, he punched the mobster hard in the chest and he fell to the ground.

“Hey, I’m pulling your leg. I’m not actually offended. I get it, you have every right to be wary. I am the son of a mob boss, after all.” I let out a chuckle, the tension between us finally dissipating. “You know,” I said a moment later, “my first impressions of you weren’t exactly glowing either.” “Oh surprise, surprise,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “Do tell.” I grinned, remembering our initial meetings that were nothing but an emotional roller coaster for me. First, I met my fated mate. Then, he turned out to be a jackass, followed by a mobster. “Well, let’s just say I pegged you as a no-good playboy just looking for an easy score. Among other things, obviously.”

C83 – MORAL DILEMMA. The club was almost empty. And at the back, Judge Matthieu Chevalier held his whiskey glass, swirling it calmly before speaking. "My little kitten has already agreed to get it for me," he said, taking a long sip. "Once those ports and trucks are in my hands, they'll be for your boss." The judge had been on the Italian mafia's payroll for years—turning a blind eye to certain "businesses" in exchange for generous sums of money.

Mercy will get you killed. When we get to the hospital, there’s a petite blond woman waiting to take us to a private room to wait for news about Flint. We’re no sooner seated across the room from each other and the door closed when I turn, my curiosity piqued. “How are you getting the red-carpet treatment?” “You mean because I’m a lowly mobster?” I purse my lips. “That’s not what I said. But—” I shrug. “Might not be far off from what I meant.”

I looked at them, and suddenly, I smiled. "What are you laughing at?!" Marcus frowned. "I'm laughing at how stupid you and your cronies are." I said slowly. "Stupid enough to not even know who you've crossed." Marcus's face turned a sickly green. Victoria lunged forward, shrieking, "How dare you still be so stubborn?! Open your eyes and see who's standing in front of you!" "Mr. Marcus is the Underboss of the Castillo family, the New York mafia! He's the future Don!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "You, an orphan from the orphanage, what right do you have to be so insolent in front of him?!"