Mobster Woman Novels & Stories

The room was not excessively hot because of its large size, but it was exceedingly warm and smoky with so many fires going and so many wall sconces burning. Sarah took me to a blond, florid-faced, chubby, and quite tall woman. "So you are the other one from the Moonshine pack." She said as her eyes roamed from my head to my feet, as just like everyone else was also doing, though not openly, as the woman standing in front of me was doing. "You will call me Mistress Brenda, and except I ask you to, never talk back when I'm talking to you. She stopped to confirm if I understood her statement, and then resumed when my silence convinced her. "Do you understand?"

She wanted to scream but her throat had gone stiff as she stared back at both men. Everyone here was a murderer. They were out of their mind. Sick. Monsters. Inhumane. Cold-blooded… Her mind screamed. “Your sister's been shot as a warning. The next one won't be nice” The Godfather said. “Then your father would be next and then maybe… you?” He added. “What the hell do you all want from me?” Her voice was a squeak. “It's very simple Louisa. This is the mob. We take everything we want by nook or crook. You are just a fragile Little thing that Alessandro won't let go of. He shot my brother…”

He’s not worth my tears. What if I’d given him what he wanted, only for him to cheat anyway? I’d be miserable now. The elevator opens, and I step out, taking in the surroundings. I’m used to luxury, but the Beaumont Group’s interiors are stunning, each design unique. A woman in glasses greets me. “You must be Ms. Dela Vega, right?” “Yes.” “This way, ma’am. Mr. Beaumont is expecting you,” she says, leading me to his office.

That woman was like a stubborn stain I couldn’t scrub out. “What is she doing here now?” I asked, the words ground out between my teeth. He barely got a syllable out before the door flung open without so much as a knock. Betty Mordecai, the daughter of the great Mafia, Mordecai, strode in like she owned the place, hips swaying, her dress screaming wealth and bad intentions. It wasn’t just the cut of the silk that clung to her curves, it was the way she wore it, like she was daring you to say you couldn’t afford her.

Georgia swallowed, she knew she didn't owe him any explanation, but at the same time she was afraid to contradict him, if there was something she remembered perfectly it was the beating Alessandro gave his companion. What if he does the same to me? The woman asked herself, who immediately tried to erase that thought from her head, after all, she spent an entire night in his apartment, if he had wanted to hurt her he could have done it while she was practically unconscious. "I went out to have fun with my friend, I was tired and it was a complicated day, we wanted to clear our minds, so we went dancing, I didn't have any money so I couldn't order any drinks, this man offered me one and we sta

This planet. Madam is a woman who has a thing for gross fashion. She impressed people with her off-styles, heavy lipsticks, long lashes, and artificial nails. As I moved to serve, I began to wonder if it was my little drama with Madam Maggie or her off-styles that made Kira laugh with so much energy. Oh God, my Kira is angry with me. Not like I did anything wrong, I only told her the truth. Halfway to the counter, I heard my name.

“How dare you to talk to me like that?! If you really know who I am, then you would know I can have your head with a flick of my hand. The people I know won’t like to see me disrespected like that.” My friend didn’t seem intimidated or cower at the woman’s threat. “Because you might be fucking a lowly gangster that doesn’t give you the right to talk like this. You are his bitch only, honey. Nothing more, nothing less.” The woman’s face reddened, and she raised her hand to slap Lola and I couldn’t stand there silently. So I pushed toward her and held her hand mere inches away from Lola’s face, which didn’t move a muscle.

Pleasant rhythm echoed throughout the room, giving off a delightful experience. Harvey clapped his hand, smiling sarcastically. “What a sweet melody.” “I’m already right at your doorstep, yet you’re still in the mood to play your harp?” “Should I say that you have a big heart, or that you’re impressive?” The woman raised her head slightly. Just that simple movement alone was incredibly alluring. Anyone would instantly fall for her at first sight. Her dress accentuated her gorgeous figure, further ramping up her beauty. She was Katy Cobb, a woman on par with the don of Briewood Gang in Hong Kong and Las Vegas’s underworld.

Many were getting maimed or slaughtered by older, battle hardy males who were hoarding females. I was never worried about being hoarded by such males. Nobody wanted to square off with Remus. He had even frightened the two friends I had made into staying back. Kita would then speak to me through the woodline, under scrutinizing glare of Remus. Remus had never favored Kita, who was a rogue male. Kita was female crazy and eccentric. Too full of life and not enough of sense, Remus would say.

of national celebrity. One newspaper dubbed her "the most successful woman in all of America." Not surprisingly, young Arlyne Weiss imagined no higher calling than that of mobster's girlfriend. The job description was vague. A mob girl had to be pretty, since she spent much of her time serving as an "object woman," hanging on the arm of a gangster. She had to be reliable, since she was often sent on errands and delivering messages. This was particularly important at a time when, thanks to federal investigators who had developed a knack for tapping phones, calls were no longer secure. To officiate as a mistress and confidante, a mistress cum geisha whose constant companionship provided the t