Novel & Cerita My Mafia Servant

Is he seriously threatening me by showing me that freaking tape. I took a deep breath. "Okay, who is King?" I asked but I couldn't help the murderous glare I was giving him. An amused smile formed on his beautiful lips. Why is this bastard smiling now?? "He is our mafia king" "M-mafia king?" I stuttered. "do you belong to mafia?" Fear was evident in my voice. Do mafia's really exist.?. I was just out of criminal world, they do exist. It's not like I'm thinking about the werewolves.

“Your body likes it more than your mouth does.” “You're insufferable!” I spat. He laughed— the sound low and soothing. It stirred something deep in my stomach and briefly drew the attention of the servants. “Where have you been?” His smile faltered. The chair creaked as he leaned back, exactly the moment a servant approached with his coffee, setting it down quietly on the table. “Business.” “What kind of busi—?” “Dominic.” Androa's voice cut through the moment like glass. He appeared at the door. Not alone. His mistress slithered in behind him, smugness written all over her face.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "I just do not want to go. I want to stay into this heaven. I do not want to go back to the hell of that merciless devil." I replied honestly. Yes, I was afraid of him but I was more afraid of going back to America. I knew once I would be there, De Leon would cage me forever and I would never get to live for myself. I would be nothing but a slave to him. I would rather become the slave of this mafia boss instead of becoming the slave of that devil. Hearing me, he just chuckled. That made me worried if he would soon send me back or not.

I stated, feet firm on the ground. “Ah, so you know how to blackmail me now huh? The master had just been gone for a few weeks yet the servant was able to learn a sly trick.” He stepped forward, I stepped back. I felt the cold wall instantly and that made me realize I was trapped unless I run out of the balcony. “Answer my questions Erik, ” I commanded with a stern voice. “Why keep me here when you know your guarded secrets will be discovered? You are mafia right? The Fancy Pants Club is the Iopata Bratva the international authorities had been looking for.”

“Salvatore is a good friend of mine. He owes me something big.” Friend? Does he mean that the one who fucked us up was his friend? Was he listening to whatever he was saying? Something’s not up, and I know Damon was not too naive to believe that the Servantes were the big man behind Burson. Perhaps, this Italian mafia was just the icing on the cake. Damon seemed to have read what was on my mind. “Don’t need to worry about it now. I'll talk to him. Maybe invite him over for dinner tomorrow. He’s still in the city.”

Where did they take me? It's good that I can see people a bit now. And in my peripheral vision, I see two men wearing black clothes. They look like Mafia members, because their bodies are also male. Who are they? Mr. is also here. Rivera earlier? "Just sit him here." Said a man in mafia attire sitting on a large chair. [She was referring to Mr. S.] "Mr. Rivera may I present to you, your personalized Slave Model 131313." Mr. S

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, your a*s is calm," I blurted out and started laughing. I am getting insane every minute, I just want to know who's the traitor in here. I can't believe I served this freaking mafia for three years, seems like a real sh*t to me. Their faces are sh*t, their outfit, their living room, except for the food, their food is the best, maybe that's why I joined them? Or is it because of the master bedroom? I don't know myself why the hell did I put myself into this situation.

Mafia’s Maid Ashley froze on his lap as soon as she heard his demand. She was watching him without blinking her eyes as she didn’t believe the task he ordered her to do. Master Jeremy was holding a sinister smirk over his face watching her shocked expressions keenly. When she didn’t move even a bit after a few moments he bent down and sucked her nipple which was pulled out by him to wake her up from her trance.

“What will your young master do to you if he finds out you didn’t let me out and his snake bit me to death.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips. “You can be assured that he wouldn’t give a care in the world about someone like you. Going from a mafia heir to a servant must be so eye opening. Look around, your old status doesn’t matter to anyone here.” I hated that his words stung, and hated even more that they were the truth. “You deserve to get bitten to death, you’re of no use to anyone. Not even your own family,” he sneered before pointing to the door. “Go back when I’m still asking nicely.”

“But I have other aspirations in life. Becoming a mafia wife was never part of my plan.” “Watch your words when you speak of my son,” Mirella warned without looking at her, her attention fixed on the painting as if each word she spoke was just another stroke of the brush. “Dante isn’t just a simple mafioso, as you say. He is the leader of the ’Ndrangheta. The mere mention of the Bellandi name makes lesser men tremble. Don’t get it twisted, girl.” Her tone was soft, but every syllable carried a sharp edge—a reminder that Svetlana was a foreigner in a world that didn’t belong to her.