Novel & Cerita My Mafia Husband Novel

I decided to taunt her more I want her to loose it . I moved closer to her and touch her lips ,I felt a weird connection between us ,so I moved close to her and whisper in her ear .. where do u want it lil slut? Here or outside ?? I fanned her neck .. she shivered lightly .. I was about to do more before I felt someone pull me back … I had totally forgotten my sister is here .. lilo dear ! Sorry but I will talk to you later I need to leave now and she .. I said pointing to the girl is coming with me ….. she made to protest but I stopped her no lilo I promise you I won’t kill her … take care lil sister I said and peck her on her head ….. I dragged the girl along with me , we got to my car ,ge

"If you don't sign the papers that is. If you do, you get to go to the pastry shop and you get to see Lola. And I get to keep you as my wife. It's a win-win for us all, no?" "But why? Why do you want me as your wife? You can get many beautiful willing women in Italy and.... anywhere." I asked. "None of your business." He said and picked up the paper. "And in three years if you decide to throw me away like some piece of paper, I'll keep my mouth shut?" I cocked a brow. He smiled again, this time, a genuine smile I've never seen on his face. "I didn't know you wanted me that bad, Mia Bambina. I will decide to keep you forever then."

… On a distant island in the Central Ocean region, I held Lorenzo’s hand while we took a stroll on the beach. The sun shone on my face. It was warm and bright. I never once thought about Damian. Only the weak felt regret among the mafia. The strong looked only to the future. As for me, I had long since become the queen of my own life. [The End.]

She was about to cross the line from being tipsy to being really fucking wasted. "You're a bad man," she pouted. "How so?" I leaned forward, actually curious about what she had to say. She closed her eyes, humming. "You're in the mafia. You run the mafia. You kill people. You hurt them. You make money off of their suffering." "It's just a job. Nothing personal. And besides, you're a member of the mafia too." She scoffed. "Only because I'm married to you. My family has never engaged me in their..." she scratched her head, trying to find the words, "...activities. "

I'll handle it" " I know but I would appreciate if you would tell me everything" " Why? You're not a Mafia" " I know however you can't deny the fact that I'm a Mafia's husband. At least, I need to have your back and make sure you're safe" " No thanks. I'm fine and will always be fine. Call in the maid" I grabbed the towel and left for the closet.

But on the inside, I was still the same broken boy trying to breathe through the tight cage of fear that had wrapped around me for as long as I could remember. This wasn’t how I imagined getting married. There were no flowers. No soft music. No whispered promises or shared dreams. Just gold, glass, and power. The Moretti estate was massive, elegant in that cold, intimidating kind of way. And at the center of it all stood Damian Moretti. My soon-to-be husband. Cold. Composed. Untouchable. He looked every bit the mafia king he was born to be, tall, broad, with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that stripped away every layer I tried to hide behind. He didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. H

"Because then, my beautiful wife there would have become a widow." "...and that would be really sad, seeing as she can't spend a single night away from me." I smirked, in a bid to rile him up. He didn't seem to be enjoying my sudden comeback and it was clear on his face. We both went silent for a while. "She might have accepted you for who you really are." He spoke up again, sneering at me. "André Wolfe, fucking billionaire CEO by day and mafia boss by night. She may have accepted you as you are. Fuck it, she may even love you." He seethed.

I inquired, not quite getting a heads up on what she's saying. "I know you know that Alexander is a mafia Prince and my husband, the mafia king. You'd probably be thinking I'm the mafia queen, right?" She let out a soft laugh and I snorted with a smile. "Well, I am no mafia queen, honey. I'm just married to a mafia king and don't get me wrong, I didn't know he was a mafia until after I had married him." She looked down at my fingers, gently caressing them. Some strands of hair fell over face and she elegantly tucked them behind her ear.

He is a monster, he kills people and doesn't feel guilty for it. I sat down in the chair near the vanity. I have been here only for an hour and I have already seen a dead person, who was shot by my husband. (Eww. Calling him my husband is disgusting. ) . I try to calm myself and try to forget the incident because if I were to live here my whole life, I should get used to it. It's a part of the package if you marry a person from the mafia. And I can't change my fate, I just have to accept it.

“You won’t hurt my sisters.” A brow lifted sharply. “No?” We locked eyes. I searched for any flicker of bluff, but he was a fortress. Yet even if he spared Mira and Luna, what about Papà? “And your wife—what does she say about you kidnapping a woman for your son?” “My wife died long ago.” A knot twisted deep in my gut. Had he killed her? Or was she a victim of some bloody vendetta? The mafia was a merciless beast—why Mama fought to keep us safe.