Mobster Couple Novels & Stories

“Told you two years ago that route was cursed.” “You also told me you had that judge in your pocket,” Carlo replied, cool as ever. “And I did. Until his wife found out about the girl in Spain.” Kristen sat still, eyes darting between them. She didn’t understand half of what they were saying. Docks. Shipments. Judges. It all sounded like code—and not the kind she wanted to figure out. She shifted a little in her seat. Boredom is slowly creeping in. The tension had faded now. They were all business. Two mafia men talking shop while she just sat there.

she waves at him ignore his act of stamping on the floor. The fork gets into the rolled red spaghetti when his footsteps fade in her ears, letting out a sigh she gulps down the whole glass of Americano. The glass door of the restaurant opens making the crowd gasp and scream, people gather rushing to the door, all their movements stop when a person drags another man in his hold along with another two men wearing masks. The crowd gathers around the three of them finding any chance to get towards the door as the two masked fellow orders them to stay in with the gun.

Hard. "I'm not a whore, Eron Castile. You're in the mafia right? That's why you don't want me to know what you do. You speak Spanish and Italian at the same time so you think you have power over all the women in this world, but guess what? You can't own me, you dumb fuck. Enjoy." I ranted​, squatting down almost immediately and pulling down his zipper. I pushed it lower and dragged down his boxer briefs, gasping as his erect cock sprung out, almost slapping my face.

We were the perfect couple. Hunter removed the film when I was looking on my mobile for some boys nearby. No l and was funny, because I took my cell phone and hid on the floor. I got a little mad at him, but then my eyes widened. He had to know where such a site was. They must have been related to the mafia in some way. I told him so and he responded with a laugh that made my anger swell a little more. -Do not be silly. We don't have things like that. Stop watching the movies. My family is more about drugs and guns. Prostitution is too persecuted.

He hands it back, "Your sister is fine. Nothing has happened to her." "Can you tell me anything? Please?" The cop sighs, "I'm not supposed to say anything, but you're gonna find out anyway. Her husband..." I interrupt, "Oh, you mean, shithead?" The cop smiles, "Well, you made this easier. Yeah, well the husband got caught with his business partner fucking some Cuban mobster's wife. The guy shot the partner and tossed hubby off the 13th-floor balcony into the pool." "Guess thirteen was lucky for him, landing in the pool."

POPULAR SUSPECTED MAFIA MOGUL'S WIFE CAUGHT PANTS DOWN WITH HIS BROTHER. New York City would eat it up! I couldn't let that happen. The humiliation this was worth? I couldn't let Fredrick get away with it either. I was done making excuses for the bum! “Now, If you would excuse me, miss Diego, I'm afraid I have to speak to my wife,” I growled, my voice seeming to come from far away, disjointed, before I slammed the car door shut. “T-the blueberries Mr. McKenzie?” Laura Diego intoned with an air of something I couldn't place, and I froze, turning to look her dead in the eye, only now seeing her, REALLY seeing her.

The second he does, I’ll put him down. But the bastard loves life too much. I wonder if he’ll be the one among these roaches to die before the night ends. My eyes shift to the Solovsky brothers. The panicked fools rush forward, bowing their slick bald heads like synchronized clowns. “Congratulations, Zver. We’re so happy to be here,” they chuckle in unison. They look like twins, but they’re not. They just mimic each other like dogs desperate for scraps.

All you ever do is cause me trouble. Marcus tightly gripped my wrist. He only let go long after we got back into the car. The entire ride, I tried listening to his thoughts. However, no matter how hard I tried, there was never a single sound inside his mind. Once we arrived at the docks, Marcus stood by the sea breeze while workers opened the cargo boxes one by one for inspection. Quietly, I stepped closer and leaned over to look inside the crates, too. 'No way they’ll notice the cargo got soaked. I stuffed so much absorbent floral foam under the crates. By the time they figure it out, we’ll already have the money and be long gone.

As soon as I got off the phone, I drove straight to Pubcob. "Boss!" Marcus greeted me as I sank into the couch. Down in the dancefloor, the moving headlight cast rays of different colors, the jam kept everyone moving their body to the boom, but up here, it was quiet, enough for a conversation . "Boss you don't look good." Marcus who had been staring at my face said. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," I answered immediately, detesting the pity look in his eyes. "Tell me what you've got."

Finally, the bartender left his station, taking a seat next to Chiara. He placed his hand on her thigh, clearly taking advantage of the fact that Chiara was drunk and not in the right state of mind. “So, I’m Gambino. What’s your name?” He asked, flashing her a slight smile. Chiara’s cheeks reddened. If it was back then, she would have pushed his hand off and complimented it with a slap but she was much too intoxicated to care. “Chiara.” She muttered, her eyes locked on his green ones.