Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss Mga Nobela at Kwento

The room was dark and quiet, the only source of light being the fire place that burned and heated up the otherwise cold room. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with a chair at both ends, Damian sat on one with Don and Leo standing behind him while Jamal Murray, a bald black man that looked to be in his mind forties with dark unforgiven eyes and a sharp cunning smile sat at the other with a stone faced guard standing behind him. Jamal was one of the few men who weren't born into this world but had managed to carve a place in it for themselves and he wasn't just some local boss running a small operation and raising his shoulders, He was the leader of the fucking Underground.

She sighed and made a conscious effort not to look at him, choosing instead to focus on the vibrant city of Las Vegas, including the buildings, passersby, hotels, motels, and casinos. It was so lovely, but she was sad because she was tied to the mafia boss, who made her nervous. A short while later, The strong arm of Ace Luna severely shook Amelia. She dozed off. She was agitated as a result of the wedding's stress and the lack of sleep and rest she had been getting. "Fuck off," Both she and he used possessive language. When she pouted, a massive mansion made of pure gold appeared in front of her. She was both amazed and surprised. She had never seen a mansion as lavish or as beautiful as th

In the period of his rule he had eliminated so many rivals and everyone who he felt likely to be a troublemaker that his hands reeked of blood. He was born ruthless and this quality of his supported him in life, at least in his business. He stood up from the step and looked down at the dead man who had got himself and the floor dyed in blood. His lips curled up into a cold grin as he pressed his shoe on the man’s face with such pressure as if he wanted to break through his skull. While Ryan was busy playing with his head Jack walked up to his Boss and asked, "What next, Ryan?" Ryan kicked the head lightly and said, "We are done with work, aren't we?"

“Boss? Want me to call cleanup?” “Stand down, Marcus,” the man in the coat said without breaking eye contact with her. “She’s not a threat.” That word—boss—made her blood run cold. Oh God. She hadn’t just wandered into a warehouse. She’d wandered into his territory. Garden Metro whispered his name like a warning: Damien Vale. The mafia king of the underworld. Ruthless. Untouchable. His name was enough to silence entire rooms. And he was now crouched in front of her like some dark guardian.

The boss was shocked, and the sight gave him goosebumps all over. Many renowned local underground big shots from Aston State were here, and each one of them wielded far greater influence than his brother. Compared to these people, his own connections were like ants on the ground—hardly worth mentioning! The underground bosses stood behind Frederick, bowing respectfully, not daring to make a sound. Who was Frederick, that even these underground bosses showed such deference? The boss collapsed to the ground, powerless and feeble. "Jennifer... Zoey sold her!"

In a flash, most of the assassins of this underground bounty stronghold started to move out! The news also quickly reached the boss' office of this underground bounty stronghold. A sexy and scantily clad woman hurried into a luxurious suite in her high heels. This was the boss' office of the bounty stronghold in the innermost part of the underground factory protected by a dozen powerful assassin disciples at the door. The woman rushed in and shouted, “Mr. Kooka, something’s wrong!” There was a fat middle-aged man who was dressed lavishly with several tattoos on his neck and arms. At this moment, he was smoking a cigar.

It's time to focus on my work. I put back the lingerie in my pocket and stormed out of my suite. Black roll Royce cars were lined up outside with men in black, waiting for me. Their Boss , Caspar Mcadam, the money laundering Mafia King. The god of the American underworld. I'm the symbol of danger, blood and death...no human being in their sanity would like to cross their paths with me... I'm a ruthless man with no mercy feelings. People call me Psychopath killer... and some say I'm a heartless beast! And they're correct with it.

The red light brothel was still lively and a few high-profiled billionaires strolled around the place with beautiful courtesans clinging like bloodsucking leeches to their arms. Boarded on an exclusive black elevator, Mort went down to Underground Zero. He traversed the empty, cold, and dim red hallway. When he arrived, the cold-blooded man opened the room. Vladimir's personal assistant covered in blood and sleeping, chained to the wooden star opened up to him. From the dim corner, Mort stepped into the chair opposite the traitor's PA and sit, waiting for the man to wake up.

He had me on his body as a way to remember me. It only made me question everything in my mind. Did he love me? He couldn’t bear to even tell me it back when I told him myself but maybe it was because of the situation. He wasn’t a good man to the normal world where we had good cops and the bad guys kill people and he was one of the bad ones. However, in the underground, he has the characteristics to be so cruel that was a match made for a mafia boss. His reputation exceeds him in being the most ruthless man with piercing red eyes ready to kill. The color of the blood and anger and was had a heart for romance but now stone cold.

He smirked, dragged her to the end of the balcony which was guarded by a steel silvery bar, and stopped This was the actual Nathan, the cold indifferent mafia boss! “Go ahead and jump. Kill yourself and be as hell home as you wanted. I would not give a damn shit about you again” His face had a plastered smirk firmed on it as he continued to smoke and observed the girl shivering and looking beneath her. AZRA. CO. Base was an underground layer that led to the beautiful scenery on the Balcony. Beneath that balcony was a busy road that consisted of cars that zoomed through the road every second. So he was right in bringing to her a fast method to death.