Outfit Female Mafia Boss Novels & Stories

It was a red dress that fit her perfectly, hugging her like a second skin without being too revealing. "That man is going to die when he sees you, you look gorgeous," her friend complimented her as Georgia finished putting on red lipstick. Sure enough, Alessandro was very punctual in front of Georgia's apartment. She was also ready to enjoy what she believed would be the best night of her life.

My cleavage was concealed by a soft transparent net which flirted with the smooth creamy skin, the inner linen stopping at the thighs where a sheer lace took over. Waxed long legs were on display, my neck encased in a silver choker neckpiece. Ferrara De Castello, the Don of the most influential Mafia organisation in America who controlled a sect of the government behind the scenes, sucked in a deep breath as soon as I revealed my choice of outfit. His gaze met mine as I handed the jacket over to him, and when his fingers brushed against mine, it was me who was almost gasping for breath. I held myself at the last minute, a knowing smile of confidence on my lips.

I raise my voice slightly while he trembles. "It's a Mafia case! Your specialty." He snaps back earning a scrowl from me. "Even though..." I trail off running my fingers through my hair in annoyance. I can't even get some rest?! I needed a fucking vacation! "I'm sure you'd like this case. It involves the famous Mafia Queen." He pressed on and my ears perk up at the sentence. "You mean Arianna?" "Yes." Arianna Romano. The deadliest and the most terrifying woman in the whole of America. She's so mysterious no one has ever seen her face. Be it covering up with a veil or wearing a mask, she makes sure her identity is hidden whenever she's out killing people.

I just smiled akwardly at her. I just hope I make it out of here, alive. *** The maids made me wear a simple red chiffon dress that falls above my knee, paired with black stillettos which I find really hard to walk in. I could feel my cold hands shaking as they guided me to the dining room where the mafia boss was waiting for me. He was still wearing his black suit while sitting at the other end of a long dining table filled with foods that fifty people could actually feast on. "Please be seated," he said to me.

Unlike Andrei, he was dressed in a long red plaid shirt, with a white hoodie underneath and black jeans paired with white basketball-style sneakers. He wasn't a prince charming either, nor was he the king of sensitivity, but he was sensible and eloquent in being himself. She couldn't help but feel comfortable around him. She could have conversations with him even when she was sure he looked down on her, but he was kind then, and everything else didn't matter. She remembered the stereotype that mafia members always dressed formally, and if they were young, they looked like hip-hop enthusiasts or delinquent youth, but they didn't fit those descriptions at all. They probably fooled people with

I wipe the thought off my mind as I straighten the dress , it hugged my figure nicely hanging below my knees but above my ankle ,it had a split up to my thigh but the left side. Just as I got out of the bathroom the bald guy came back and opened the door signaling me to follow him . I walked out of the room nervously following him with my eyes darting around the mansion . Everywhere was painted white , everyone I saw had a black suit on ,some with shades ,some with masks like they were divided among groups , there was no woman here ,more like I was the only women here , even those I saw carrying trays of food were men putting on a white shirt and black trousers.

Young girls who didn't fit the ambience nor looked like anyone's girlfriend not wife. Aria for one looked the part. Like she belonged. Like being in places like this was all too natural for her. Like she'd done it a thousand times. For one she had. Strolling in the arms of countless heirs. Wrapped in wealth and jewellery that didn't belong to her. Only now they did. But she had chosen a simple look. Formal enough for a place like this though. A sleek mid-length, tailored black gown. Her hair tied in a matching slick bun. For one, she'd fit the role of a mafia boss wife than the wife of CEO to the Callahan's empire.

“Says someone who was fantasizing about a mafia don.” Jane blinked rapidly. “Mafia don?!” Carla shrugged. “Mafia don, mafia lord—whichever you call it,” she grunted, tapping her phone. “Why isn’t Inspector Rosaline picking up?” “Hey, Carla, look at me. You mean he’s a mafia?” Carla nodded. “Couldn’t you tell? From the way he talks, the tattoo, the gun? Who else carries a gun and stares people down without fear?” Jane scrunched her face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Oh my God, you just made me miss my soulmate.” She glared at Carla.

I knew exactly what those words meant when he whispered them to me Seventy-two hours ago. The dress I was wearing tonight was elegant, black, the kind that cost more than most people made in a year, and it fit me perfectly, like it had been made for a body I hadn't fully grown into yet. My hair was styled neatly, every strand accounted for. My makeup was flawless, precise in a way that felt less like beauty and more like armor. I looked exactly like who Adrian wanted me to be — the wife of a dangerous mafia boss, rich, poised, untouchable. I picked up the mask from the vanity, a handheld one, black with a matte finish, gold lining the edges around the eyes, a small cluster of black feathers

“Long time no see, Draven.” We all whipped our heads towards the entrance as a woman with ginger red hair and sharp blue eyes strutted into the mansion. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she swayed her hips. She wore a tightly fitted, black chanel gown that hugged her voluptuous curves perfectly, and had more than enough cleavage. I swallowed hard as she stepped towards me, rolling her eyes as she shoved me aside, standing in my former position beside Draven and wrapping her hands around his arm. “Did you miss me, baby?” She chuckled, resting her head against his arm.