Model Rambut Mafia Novels & Stories

At a closer look, even the hair all around his body from the follicles all over his body's skin is blue. Then the following young man is black-haired with black eyes. With everything on his physique, even the color of his skin is black. Then the following young man scares me. One look at him and I close my eyes. He looks like a ghost. His hair and everything on his body look colorless, like a mirror. It is a mist-kind mirage reflection that is all over him. fuck what is this? I look at the last young man from afar who is standing up and reading himself to walk back over to me. He is the most normal one, with brown eyes and brown hair.

her scalp, wielded a pair of shears with which she clipped and clipped, twisting the locks and securing them under a helmet of bobby pins. By the time she had finished, Arlyne's moppy hair had become a tight, shiny mass of sculpted curls. Billie visited Madame Berger twice a week to have her hair dyed with henna and combed into a coiffure style with the help of two huge shell combs. Those visits were not just a beauty ritual, but a reconnaissance mission to find out who was hanging out with whom, or, more specifically, who was sleeping with whom on the Lower East Side. Madame Berger's small establishment catered to the wives and girlfriends of mobsters, who showed up early on Friday afterno

I was beginning to think that they were taking us as a joke. My identity in the mafia world had been unknown for a while now even though they knew my name but they just didn't know the face behind the name. My father and my brother had made me ruthless and heartless but I had always tried to conceal the horror I have inside of me so as not to hurt anyone. Doing this slot of people out there only knew my father and my brother. Their name was feared among all other mafia colonies. Though I had made a name for myself and I had won my territory, a lot of people still don't know who I am and it makes them come at me.

“Rafeal let me ask you a question, who did your private investigator say that Clara is currently staying with??” “Arsenio Robert, and so???” “Arsenio Robert, the son of the same dangerous mafia man you worked with who almost killed you years ago??” she asked as she scoffed. “What exactly is your point Seraphina???” “My point is that your brain seems to have stopped functioning because if it was, then you would know that Arsenio could be as dangerous as his Father!!!!” “And why do you care if he is dangerous??? The last time I checked you didn't seem to give a fuck about me or my were being.” I said as I rolled my eyes.

She ate her food quietly and as soon as she could she left them to it pulling a pillow over her head at the noises coming from the other bedrooms. It was the last day of their holiday and she felt strange and on edge for some reason she was sure she was being watched and she took her gut instincts very seriously. Staying safely inside the complex she kept out of sight away from the Main Doors. All her senses were on high alert and it did not take her long to spot the two men dressed in expensive Armani suits, with dark glasses trying to look nonchalant and sticking out like a sore thumb. With a shock, she realised they were Mafia Guards and as she studied them from her hidden vantage point s

Chiara choked and Aria nodded, seemingly understanding Chiara’s response. “Don’t love your new guy more than me.” Aria said teasingly and rolled her eyes. “There’s no way I’m going to love that douchebag.” Chiara muttered distastefully and Aria laughed in amusement. “You’ll be saying that now but pretty soon he’ll be the only thing on your mind.” “You shouldn’t be talking about these kind of stuff with me.” Chiara said and Aria rolled her eyes in amusement. The rest of the makeover was done in comfortable silence. By the time they had finished, Chiara could barely recognize herself. The makeup wasn’t over-the-top like she had requested but her bangs were slightly trimmed and her hair curled

"Okay, angelo mio. Everyone is excited to see you so get some rest tomorrow is a very busy day." I smiled weakly. My engagement party was tomorrow, to a man I hardly knew. His name was Emilio Armani and he was 40, the head of the Italian mafia. A shiver ran down my spin. I had just turned 20, but this was a peace treaty that had to be honored. If it was violated in any way, they would come after me and my family.

The Mensah Moon Estate was massive, built like a fortified castle and dripping in modern mafia opulence, fully decorated with silver banners and fresh kills to celebrate Amara’s big day. Every high-ranking wolf in the room wore expensive tailored suits and heavy gold chains, except for Rapha. He stood out like a dying rogue, dressed in an oversized shirt and frayed jeans, his face covered in dark ash to mimic a sickness. He didn’t just disrupt the elegant mafia gathering—he completely shattered the illusion.

Maurice tried a wry smile. "Understood sir," I returned his smile even though I hated what I was about to go into. "That will be all." ****** The rest of the day found me cutting my hair to the style of my new profile. I tinted my hair to a golden brown after I'd asked my artist to tattoo on my upper arm the name of Alexandro Martini, the most rugged mafia lord in all of Premise. How do I intend to make such a powerful and nonsensical man trust me?

"No kidding." He ignored my sarcasm, remaining impassive. "The Russian mafia wants to take over our property in New York. They’re expanding too fast, eliminating competitors, claiming new territories. They’re cutting old deals and establishing new ones—on their own terms. Luigi Romano is caught in the middle of it." I swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in my stomach.