My Mobster Girlfriend Novels & Stories

Leo kicked over a nearby candle stand, hot wax splashing onto the hem of my dress, “this is just the beginning! Do you know what I’ve been through this past month? Cast out by the Colombo family, hunted like a dog by Morretti men! All because of you!” I looked at him without speaking. He had lost weight. His cheekbones jutted sharply, stubble covered his jaw, and his eyes were sunken. The former Underboss who once ruled the New York underworld now looked like a stray dog. “And me!” Amy squeezed out from behind him. She wore an overly extravagant black dress, the neckline cut too low, and around her neck hung the fake pearl necklace from the auction. She walked up to Leo, looping her arm thro

"Which is it? Housekeeper or girlfriend?" I pull Beatrice close, my hands gripping her waist firmly. I lean down into her neck while still looking at Moris. "She's my girlfriend." Beatrice stiffens against me. Fuck, I want to ease the tension, so I slide my thumb slowly along her side, hoping to calm the storm beneath her skin. Moris laughs. "Girlfriend?" She scoffs, shaking her head. "Silas Morgan finally got tired of women with real standards and decided to play house with the help?" Her eyes glint cruelly. "She scrubs your floors and your cock?"

She must have noticed that I was taken aback by her sudden appearance and she threw a question of if her appearance was weird to me. Of course, I wouldn’t want to get into her trap so I replied “You look stunning,” which was actually true. She was absolutely gorgeous. She has always been though, but since she wanted to be more masculine in order to fit her mafia identity, she opted out of the femme fatale category. She was always alert, training, and looking for ways to break into new territories. She made my dreams hers too and never left me to take care of things alone. At times, she can be overprotective but its okay, that's her charm.

You should listen to your girlfriend Mr Marco. "She's not my girlfriend!" He snapped I didn't mind what he called her. 'Girlfriend'. 'Fuck buddy'. 'Partner'. 'Lover’… whatever! As long as he took her advice, I would be happy. Money had always been the way to a woman's heart and this one was no exception. I was counting on the wiles and seductive allures of his woman to help me win him over.

"Please. My bestie's dating a literal wolf daddy, her grandma's been howling at the moon, and the hot, broody barista might bite me. I am thriving. This is my villain origin story." Christopher muttered, "You're not the villain, Debby." He was clearly upset about her barista joke. Nobody would be biting her other than him. "Let me dream!" she shouted. Tasha laughed so hard she nearly dropped her clutch. "You're impossible." "And you're dating a werewolf," Debby shot back, winking. "So who's really winning?" "Let's just go pack our stuff," Tasha grabbed her cousin and headed inside with Chris trailing behind them.

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.

She says something under her breath, which he nods to, and then she stands with her arms folded looking miserable. “Fine,” I say to Vito even though I didn’t hear a fucking word he said. “We’ll do it as you suggested. Call me tomorrow with the details.” I hang up before he has the chance to say anything and I shove my phone in my pocket angrily. I hear a chuckle beside me. It’s Miguel. He has a glass of beer in his hand, and his cheeks are flushed. He’s already somewhat drunk, it seems. He says to me, “Women. It’s tough to understand them, isn’t it?”

FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS , life settled into a normal pattern, or as normal as one could expect when you were a mobster's girlfriend. Yes, girlfriend. I had convinced myself that Fausto was my boyfriend, because that was preferable to the real situation, that I was his lover. Everyone knew the truth, however. The only person I was fooling was myself.

I am truly blessed to have him in my life. A black jeep screeches to a halt in front of the entrance, sending spirals of dust into the air. Tore and Rose are here. I walk down the staircase and open the passenger door to see my sister all dolled up and smiling. Her blonde hair is styled in beautiful curls and she is wearing perfume. My lips lift into a smile, I can see that she is having fun with the money I sent her and mother. The mafia pay well but I have to be honest, work is not all a bed of roses here. In fact, work as a member of the mafia is brutal.

Mafalda is actually really cool on the murderous, sadistic side. She talks allot about how much she loves working in the mafia. I honestly don't get how anyone could enjoy it but then again, I didn't have a choice. I swallow the liquor she pours in my glass and hiss at the afterburn. We've been out in the patio for almost three hours now; I can feel the alcohol starting to take effect. "You really shouldn't mind Vince, you know." she says casually taking a sip from her cup. I look at her questioningly. Her soulless eyes glance back and she sighs. "I shouldn't even be telling you this. Do you know what happened to the boys' mother?"