Novel & Cerita My Mobster Boyfriend

“Guess what?” I groaned. “Mark” “Missy’s got a boyfriend,” he announced proudly. Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh really?” I buried my face in my hands. “Why are you like this?” Mark grinned. “He’s mafia, Mom. Real intense guy. But soft around her. Calls her baby girl and everything.” “Oh my God” I laughed, face burning. “Stop.” Mom giggled, wiping fresh tears from her cheeks. “I’m just happy you’re loved, sweetheart.”

***MICHELLE'S POV*** I hate being born in the mafia, and I hate the fact that Daddy treats me like a baby, and Sinclair too. I've known Sinclair part of my life, and although distant, he has been my role model, I know he loves me too, but it's just that he just provides for me and that's it. Coming to Seattle, I know what is up. Matteo Sanchez. He is my boyfriend of one year now and we have succeeded in keeping our relationship apart from Sinclair. We've got caught kissing by two of the guards now, but Matteo threatened to kill them if they breathed a word to Sinclair.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." I heaved a sigh. I was able to visit my sister after agreeing to Nick Sanford's terms. He wants me to attend a banquet and force Nicholas to attend too. He said he won't allow me to visit my sister again if I fail to bring Nicholas with me. It was a scary deal and I'm bothered because of it. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Shocked, I looked at Sunny. "Huh? No. Why would I get a b-boyfriend?" Gosh! I don't have a boyfriend, but I agreed to marry the son of the ruthless mafia leader in the country. That was a dreadful agreement.

I protested, as he laid back on his chair, an ugly smirk on his face. "Oh it does, Danny!" He smiled at me. "The day you walked into my club and decided to be a stripper, you signed up to work for me." He said. "From that day, you belonged to me." He was suddenly lighting a cigarette. "...and if your mafia boyfriend wants you for himself, he's gonna have to pay me first." He chuckled. "We're not the one to pay, he is." Mr. Cox laughed, and I looked up to see gleeful looks on the faces of Jordan and the others.

My boyfriend, who was a Mafia Don and wildly in love with me, kicked me out of the family and caused my younger brother's death because of the new Consigliere. I decided to leave once and for all. "Are you sure you want to join us, Eva? Well, then it's a deal. We leave in three days." On the other end of the phone call was the agitated voice of the Carloni family's Underboss. They were the top Mafia family in the United States.

She groaned and tugged at the strands of hair on her head. Alexander Moretti was forbidden fruit, he’d always been. In the past he was her older brother’s best friend, her father’s best friend’s son and a Mafia successor, but now he was the Don and he had a girlfriend.

I asked him. "Look, you are pregnant from what I can tell, so I am going to forgive you this once and not tell anybody else about this. But you should not call any other person to put a hit on Stella, she's not someone you can mess with," he told me. "What are you talking about? What happened to Stella?" I asked him urgently. "Stella is now Jonathan's wife, and Jonathan is not someone you would want to mess with. He is involved with the mafia," my hitman told me.

But that wasn’t the part that scared me most about Sandy and the Monster being together. It was that he had a girlfriend. That he moved on. Of course he would. All we had was a kiss and a ride at the theme park. I felt like I might throw up. “That’s Daniel Sterling,” Henry said while running his fingers through his hair. “Her brother. Well, adoptive brother. Her parents took him in when she was really little. He’s trouble. He’s the top mobster in Boston now. Every gang and mafia group on the East Coast wants him dead. He probably won’t live long.”

All too well did I know the car and the man it bespoke. The doors opened as one, and three men spilled out. They moved with deliberate calculation, sans tailored suits or obvious weaponry, yet exuding an aura of threat. It was in their posture-the predatory assurance, the faint, smug smiles-that put my teeth on edge. My opponent. Victor Moretti. What was he doing here of all places? My hold on Lena's hand tightened involuntarily. She gasped, looking up at me with wide, enquiring eyes, but at that moment, I just couldn't afford to give her even a second of my attention. A million and one scenarios flooded my mind, none of them good.

The club was alive with pounding bass and flashing lights, a perfect escape for anyone wanting to lose themselves in the rhythm. But for me, the music was just noise, and the lights only made the shadows in my mind darker. I had come here with my friends to try and forget, to drown my sorrows in a sea of strangers, but the recent betrayal was too fresh. My boyfriend—no, my ex-boyfriend—had been cheating on me. And with Nikita, my supposed best friend. The image of them together, tangled in each other in that hotel room, was seared into my mind.