Novel & Cerita Novel Mafia Kejam

Viola said softly, “I knew Elisa for many years, she wasn’t a shallow minded person and she definitely knew what the rules of the mafia are and how things are done…a little blood must be spilled in order to achieve anything,” Yes. Elisa would definitely understand if she were here but— Why was the voice and screams of Ymir still haunting her thoughts. Rain felt this inexplicable urge to go see him or even free him. “I’m not sure...” Rain wasn’t sure if it was okay to speak to Viola about what was bothering her. Her fear of becoming a monster like Cullen. It was like being involved in the Mafia was changing her into something she didn’t recognize. It scared the shit out of her.

Hideous asked, which made Kyle and Keisley look at each other and wait for George's answer. George took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding to Hideous's question. He nodded his head. "Yes," he admitted, his voice steady, and he did not even have a hint of hesitation. Well, Sherly trusts them and does him. "I am part of the mafia, but I'm not the boss. The boss is my best friend, and I serve as his second in command." Second in command? Isn't it still considered a boss? There's only one person above him; it's the real owner of the mafia. Then now, he is telling them that he isn't the boss?

Something was telling him it was Adrian's handwork though he didn't have any proof. " You know about Amelia, right?" Nicholas sighed, looking at her. She nodded waiting for him to speak. Was he finally going to tell her about Amelia" "How Amelia and I met was through Adrian. I lived with the Castellnos since I was little. My family died in a fire accident, and the Castellnos took me in. They were close to my family but Adrian didn't like me. I knew it, he didn't like the way his father talked to me or how people like me over him. He didn't say anything but I felt it. We grew up as close brothers and we trained together I as the Mafia Assassin and Adrian to be heir. Soon Amelia came into the

​I poured a glass of whiskey and stared at the framed copy of my debut novel sitting on the shelf. Cara Mia. ​Writing it had been my only lifeline during this hellish year. It was supposed to be a catharsis, a way to process the madness of being a mafia lord’s wife. Every page was stained with the truth of us. I wrote about the way he smelled of expensive tobacco and gunpowder, the way his Italian filtered through his lips like a prayer, and the way he looked at me as if I were the only thing in this world worth saving.

“Everything’s ready inside. Security has been checked twice.” I nodded. “Good. You can leave after you bring in the files from the North office branch tomorrow morning.” “Yes, Boss.” He left, and I walked in alone. The place looked new, I dropped my coat on the couch and moved toward the window. The view was nice, at least Luca knew I loved seeing the night lights and traffics. He has been with me since my Dad sent me out of the country the if his death before he passed out. I had worked hard like a dog, clawing my way up through blood and loyalty until the name Vicente Russo started to echo again in the underworld, not as the son of a dead man, but as the man himself.

She spread them across the sink. Yasmine’s trembling fingers turned them over one by one. The images were horrifying, bodies mutilated and walls painted with blood. In one, a man who looked unmistakably like Luca stood over a gutted victim, his clothes drenched in crimson. Bile surged in Yasmin’s throat. She bent over the sink, dry heaving, gripping the porcelain tightly to keep herself upright. The photos slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor. She rinsed her mouth quickly, gasping for air, before turning back to Gianna. Rage sparked in her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug expression from the officer’s face.

Maybe, here in this house by the sea, they could carve out a different kind of forever. A forever where love was stronger than blood. Where promises meant more than power. Where a mafia king could fall to his knees for the reckless, beautiful girl who taught him to feel again. And stay there, grateful, for the rest of his life. ---

She might be scared and terrified to her bones, the reminder that this man is not just an alpha but a ruthless mafia was sending cold chills down her spine. She knows who mafias are. How ruthless they are. She has read a lot about them. They are usually involved in a lot of dirty businesses and sheaas sure he'd definitely be doing such illegal things. He's alpha death, who's a Mafia, she doesn't expect him to be a good clean man.

Volume/Book 1: The Stylish Mafia Girl & Her Muse Mafia men have been the trend of town for ages; their dominance over the world resembles a ghost ruling the graveyard—driven by that statement when exceptionally beautiful female Simone Thompson—the ruling Mafia of Austria vows to change the belief, then destruction is accompanied by terror, action, and the everlasting love to kill for adventure.

G R A C E P O V We stood in front of the big mansion of 'Family Antoïni' in Italy. My legs were shaking, my hands were clammy and my body was sweating like I was walking through a desert. I felt like dying. I didn't know if I could do that. I seriously doubted it. My leg wasn't healed completely yet from the bullet wound and they were also weak from the nerves. If Giovanni wasn't holding me up I would have sacked through my legs already.