Outfit Female Mafia Boss Novels & Stories

I snapped at Justinian Mafia ways! Royalty came back down the stairs with a cool galaxy printed short jeans, a black polo shirt, white sneakers with her phone in her hand. I had bought her one and since she accepted the code of Omertá I let her live like a normal teenager on social media. She looked really sexy and I'm glad she was mine. Neveah thundered down the stairs a few second later in high waist short black jeans and a white shirt tucked in neatly. She was also in sneakers which were black and pink. "Going out?" Jianan teased

He was the Boss's eyes and ears, and I could not fuck up and make them think I was the least interested in Aubrey, because they would automatically see her as a weakness. The Boss was not kind with people he thought would weaken anyone in the mafia. Aubrey returned again after sometime with fresh trays, and with one chaste look at her outfit, I wanted to her up from my seat and drag her back, into one of the rooms until this whole thing was over. She was wearing a light blue dress that was tight on the bodice and loose from her waist downwards. It had a cute short sleeve and was pretty conservative, save for the fucking V-neck that the apron she was wearing that the apron failed to cover.

In that time, those ten men became my shield, my council, my silent proof that my father had never wanted me to walk into a war unprepared. Eventually, the world found out of my position “The first female mafia boss in the region,” Luca teased one morning as I pulled on the black coat that had become my second skin. “You should see how people talk about you.” “I don’t want awe,” I muttered. “I want the truth.” “And you’ll get it but awe helps scare the idiots.” He wasn’t wrong at all. When I walked into the main hall in full regalia, black coat, father’s ring on my finger, hair pulled back like a blade, every man in that room stood straighter.

I always stock up their parties. I finish my shower and brush my teeth. I wrap one of the robes around my body and walk out to see Olivia surrounded by people dressing her, doing her makeup. She is wearing away too short silver dress. Her boobs are almost showing as she can’t have a bra under it. She looks absolutely stunning. That dress accentuates every curve of her body. I’m gonna have to be really careful at that party so she doesn’t get hit on. Although no one in their right mind would try to hit on my girlfriend. Even though they don’t know I am in the mafia. Then know my reputation.

I'm wearing a black suit with a black mask to blend with the background Lisa is wearing a thigh-high slit black form-fitting gown with a black mask deemed with gold embroidery. We strolled gently, announcing our presence. Little mafia lords bowed and subordinates bowed even further as a sign of respect. I looked around as I didn't see my subject in mind that day.

It was thirty minutes past eight and I should better hurry to get ready to work. After taking the shower I dressed in another business outfits, Enzo had kept many of them for me. Of course he knew I would need them. The dress I wore today was blood red and made me feel bold and confident. I was ready in no time and I still had thirty minutes before we leave for Rexivo. I stood in front of the mirror and told myself I was worth of whatever I was doing today and I was no lesser than anyone and not especially a man, I would drag each and everyone out of their delusional world to show them, if determined a woman can be the most powerful asset whether it is in home or in business and especially i

"And wear something that says 'Mafia Queen,' not 'hiding in my room.' My tailor left a garment bag on your dressing table. Use it." I heard his footsteps fade away. I groaned, rubbing my eyes. My body felt heavy from the stress of the previous night. I had spent hours trying to find a backdoor into my frozen accounts, but my father’s firewall was a masterpiece. That cruel man. He hadn't just blocked me; he had set a trap. If I tried to force my way in again, a signal would be sent directly to the Moretti security team. I walked over to the dressing table and unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a dress that almost looked like it was owned by Katherine Pierce of TVD. The dress was deep navy b

Christian, Nico, and Frankie go quiet, turning to me, their eyes each moving over me in a way that makes me scowl because I feel like a piece of meat being judged at the butcher shop before being wrapped up and carried home. “Is this really how you want me to look?” I ask, gesturing at the black dress with its little gold details. It’s cute, really – more spring-forward than I’d have thought would be appropriate in winter. A little shapeless in its mod style, but short enough that my long legs are on full display. The little gold details on the belt and the buttons that run down the front match the gold strip on the heel of my black leather booties. I mean, again, it’s cute but…none of it sc

My face moisturizer followed, ensuring that I’d look fresh and glowing. I then selected an outfit that was simple yet elegant—a black pair of pants with a silky peach-colored top. It wasn’t too flashy, but it was enough to catch the eye. I finished off the look with a pair of black heels and grabbed my black handbag. I wanted to convey elegance without trying too hard. To complete the ensemble, I pulled my hair into a sleek low bun and added my Gucci sunglasses. I felt like a mafia boss’s wife, and that’s exactly the vibe I was going for. I applied a generous spritz of my signature fragrance, feeling the scent settle on my skin. It was the final touch that made me feel confident, powerful. W

No, Clara Moretti is a force to be reckoned with, and apparently one who thrives on seeing me so visibly inconvenienced. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek bun that looks like it's trying its hardest to keep all her psychopathic thoughts trapped in her head and at the same time highlight the angular aristocratic lines of her face. She’s dressed in a sleek, ivory power suit paired with heels that make her look like a marble statue come to life. I didn't even know women in the Italian mafia were allowed to wear pants, but clearly, Clara doesn't play by the rules. "You're late," I remark dryly, slowly rising to my feet. "We agreed on ten o'clock."