My 108 Mafia Father Novels & Stories

“But why didn’t he just kill himself alone if that was what he wanted? Why did he kill my poor mama?” Mason pulls one of the bar stools and sits down. The darkness in his eyes tells me that there’s more bad news on the way. “I’m sure you probably never knew this, but your father once worked for the Las Vegas Mafia, Mira. He was once their treasurer.” My mouth falls open. “What?” Mason shrugs. “It was long before you were born. Your mother and father were still dating then.” I shake my head slowly, trying to rid myself of the shock that has stiffened my spine.

I replied. “There’s no excuse for my inability to grant you this wish, Father. I haven’t been complacent about this, I’m close to getting married and I promise you that I will.” “I respect you a lot, more than you can imagine,” My father began. The room was silent and my eyes were fixed on him. “But the mafia is growing stronger and it has grown bigger than all of us and I will not live to see it crumble under my rule or yours either. I won’t be able to live with the shame and ridicule that comes with it even in the afterlife.”

The ugly and good side of this life combined. Father holds a recorded tape up within two fingers. “I’ll be sure to show your master this to keep your memory alive in his mind.” Alexeyev, one of the most ruthless mafia boss and owner of a strong, impenetrable, massive cartel and my father says slowly like he was counting his words to the tortured fellow. “Any last words?” Father asks. I lower my eyes down at the sound of another buzz.

I wondered who was going to come out next. A man stood up and went to the middle of the field when he announced his name. "I, Richard, second in command of the Quaker mafia wolf pack, challenge Isaiah Black for his title of the mafia king." Holy shit, did he really just challenge my father? Shaking my head, I knew this was going to be tough because we had heard about this guy. He was strong and had yet to be put down, just like my father. I watched as my father stood up, took off his shirt. My dad had tribal tattoos all over his body, it was just one long tattoo but he added more over the years. He was just like grandpa. He walked down the steps then jumped over the last railing down to the

As I move, my dress rustles softly, and my hair stays perfectly in place. "Wow, Lessia is this not too much?", I ask unsure. "No, it is perfect", Lessia said still trying to arrange the strands of hair on my head. I rolled my eyes and said, "Lessia why did you dress me like this, I look like two million threw up on me". She looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, "You look amazing and by the way you are the daughter of the Mafia boss, you need to dress the part". "Mafia?", I asked confused.

"My former boss was Frank's father, Frank's mother is a Filipina. We went to different countries, and in all those countries, we studied the languages." I was just listening, and I don't know why daddy is telling me everything. Could it be that he already knows something about me and godfather? "Frank's father was a mafia lord. When his father died, he was the one who took over." It means it is actually true that Godfather Frank is a mafia. "I left because I met your mommy. I said goodbye properly because I wanted to start a new life and have a family." "Dad, why, is the mafia bad?" I asked innocently.

Her companion leaned in and whispered, “Anthony Scott ran with the mob when he was young. He went legit and built his empire from the ground up. Everyone in New York gives him respect. And this guy just hit his son? He’s doomed.” My father didn’t spare them a glance. He simply turned back to me. His fingertips gently brushed the blood-matted strands of hair away from my forehead. “Rosie,” he said softly. “You’ve suffered a lot. But Dad’s here now. You don’t have to be afraid of anyone. Whatever you want to do to them, it’s your call.”

My father, without a doubt, is behind this grand welcome. Amerigo Marcello is still a powerful man, even after handing down the empire to me. He was, and still is, the most brutal man I have ever known—especially when it comes to matters of the mafia. My father is many things, but above all, he is a man who does not lie, because he fears no one.

What was all these? He gets up and my eyes lock on him. I’m too scared to take them off. It’s like he would behead me once I look away. Like a predator hunting for its prey. His agile movement comes towards me. One step after another pristine step. Ethan lets go of me as his father approaches us. Ethan’s father is a fucking mafia don. Jesus Christ. I guessed he wasn’t a lawful citizen but this is too much. The freaking mafia. HELL NO I didn’t sign up for this!!

I dug my face in his jet black shirt sinking into his arms and pulling him in a bone crushing hug from the left side. I do belong to a mafia family. I know I am the daughter of mafia king Lucifer Miller, but I am not from the people who can stand blood or the sight of murders. I hate destruction, which is why I hate my father and brother too. "Put the gun down Maria, she is not to be blamed. I know I told you I will help you get revenge for what you had to go through but baby, what will be the difference between us and them?" Max's words affected her, she hung her face silently as though she was wondering something deeply.