Pakaian Mafia Novels & Stories

But if someone found out, fuck, I am screwed. I an only twenty three and he had offered my hand without even asking me. He never would have asked. The thought of marriage never crossed my mind. Perhaps a couple of times when I was a young girl. But l always imagined of marrying a prince. Not the boss of the American fucking mafia. The American mafia was well known for its reputation of being manipulative and brutal. They were deadly, even was impressed. The mafia boss; I did not know much about, but only his name. I was to be wedded to Ace Hernandez.

Some of David Del Valle's people were placed as infiltrators in the Romero's teams. Meanwhile in Argentina, Maria, had a very particular visit in Bella Vista, because the men of the Mexican mafia showed up at her house, dressed as an internet fixer, they staged a scene where part of the team was faking a fix, and the main person in charge of that operation talked inside with the young De La Cruz and warned her about the strange orders that the boss sends her to carry out;

“Come, let’s go downstairs. If you keep sitting, you might wrinkle the dress, mia cara.” “I don’t give a damn about this dress,” I glare at him with narrowed eyes. “With this marriage, the Russian mafiosos will give us a truce. You will be protected.” “And you will be richer, won’t you?” I say sarcastically. I had done my research, and as fantastical as it sounded, it was my reality. For centuries, arranged marriages had been popular among the mafia. They did it for various reasons—agreements, protection, truces… And now, I was part of it.

Our last stop was the amusement park. Lia had arranged for twenty-five kids from an orphanage to spend the afternoon there. Twenty-five toddlers. Six women. Simple math—impossible ratio. So she and the other mafia wives called in backup. Their husbands, My father and Jeremy. All in public. We were doomed. Though, I’ll say this: seeing these terrifying, powerful men dressed in plain t-shirts and jeans, herded around by women in heels and designer sunglasses, was refreshing. They looked oddly normal in the outfits , typical dad's during the summer break , They just needed to work on the smiles.

She didn’t know whether to feel protected or petrified. He turned back to her as the guards dragged the women out. "Don’t mistake this for a favor," he said coolly. "I just don’t let anyone speak shit about what’s mine." Martha’s throat tightened. That strange blend of possession and protection lingered in her mind like smoke. She was still lost in thought when Martin walked in, dressed in a charcoal suit that barely masked the healing bruises on his cheek. His eyes roamed the room before falling on her. She felt his gaze long before he stepped forward.

I’d remind them how lucky they are, too, but the truly lucky never appreciate it. Mia closes her laptop and slides it into her bag before standing. Right away, I notice the way a few of the guys nearby admire her ass. One of them, in particular, sets my teeth on edge. He’s always wearing pajamas and the same knit cap, always looking like he just came in from a party or from some girl’s bed. I bet if I got close enough to him, I’d smell pussy on his breath. And he thinks he has the right to look at her? To even be in the same room?

They turned. Five men stepped out from the shadows. The Mafia Don’s men. Unlike the sleek, professional look of the assassins, these were rugged Balkan wolves — dressed in worn leather jackets, jeans, boots caked in gravel, but every one of them armed and alert. Tattoos curled up necks, crosses dangled from chains, and beneath their easy stances lay the violence of men born into it. At their centre stood Piers Delano, the Don himself. Of average height, but lean, and handsome, with his blonde hair falling across his forehead.

Venna and Maureen also knew that, which is why they both wore their masks. Alongside them were five other members of the lower ranks of the La Xiena Mafia, each one ready for the confrontation ahead. Amethyst showed no fear in them, and they were obviously determined to win this fight. Well, for Amethyst, this should be on the cards of those entering the mafia. After all, it is not easy to get out of this world. In a world full of blood, illegalities, and other bad things,.

I glared at him and turned to run up the stairs. I got to my room, slammed the door shut, and locked it. I picked up the laptop from the study table and searched for the word that was bothering me the most. “Mafia” Hesitantly, I clicked on the first search result that pulled up and started to read everything about it. Mafia is an informal term that is used to describe a criminal organization that bears a strong similarity to the Sicilian Mafia... Mafias often engage in secondary activities such as gambling, loan sharking, drug trafficking, prostitution, and fraud...

she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. Alessandro cleared his throat, composing himself. "So...yes, they are mafia." "Mafia?" she repeated. "You mean the ones with hats and black suits, guns strapped all over their bodies?" "I’m not sure they’re always on suits.” He said, sipping his coffee. “but I mean the ones who rule with brutality, who traffic drugs and guns, who extortion and violence, are their only languages. The ones who will stop at nothing to maintain their power and control. Yes, that’s the one."