Port Mafia Dazai Novels & Stories

Auntie Helynia says. “That explains part of but what about Dontay?” Daymon asked coughing. “To explain that I will need to tell you about my family. My great great grandfather had five children, all girls. He was also the Pakhan (Russian Mafia Boss). He like all other Russian mafia bosses married off his daughter, well all but one. His youngest daughter took after him. She was a ruthless bitch. He knew that the other mafia bosses wouldn’t accept a female Pakhan. His daughter, Daria, came up with a solution. She had a cousin who was gay. She and my great great grandfather made a deal with him. They would keep his secret if he agreed to marry Daria. They were able to get away with it because t

"Then it turns out Harper was only a spy" Valerie gasped "And the reason why he came was because of Rachael" Madam Zuna continued "Who's Rachael?" Valerie asked "Falcon's wife, mother of the three siblings" Madam Zuna replied "Then....my father came because of her? Why?" Valerie asked "You see? Being a Mafia can be dangerous Valerie, I mean your opponents will try whatever to bring you down, and if they can't get you, they go for your weakness, that's how things work here"

Wanting to see to the extent that the girl's eyes could endure the temptation of showing her darrel's grave, although Bella would never have been able to meet him even if only by a mountain of dirt. Yes, Marco was indeed a ruthless man with no compassion at all. It is evident with the body of an AD darrel that vanished even without a trace from the earth, after obliterating the darrel. Marco told pablo to take the man's body to his pets, he innoculously told pablo to throw the bloody corpse into the pit where the lions were waiting for their rations.

Five guards step out of it, and fall into step behind me instantly. With my phone in a pocket, and a pistol in my hand; eyes filled with deathly fury as we approach. The moment I step in, the sight before me makes my heart stop. Not because its new, I've seen thousands of dead bodies, it was worse after an all out war between two ruthless mafia Lords. What made my heart stop is the implication. "This is a lot." I mutter, noting the extent of damage that had been done. The thought of innocents being murdered, and killed for something they didn't do or had no idea of; makes my heart ache.

Understandably, Zean is not a native Broughtonian and still needs a g****e map to show him the directions and places to go. Arriving at one of the cafes shown by Raisa, Zean immediately got out of the car and opened the door with his hand extended to Raisa. "Thank you," said Raisa. She got out of the car and accepted Zean's hand. The two unconsciously grasped each other's hands and entered the cafe. There was no longer a look of fear, depression, or despair from Raisa. Because it seemed like Zean was temporarily able to heal the wounds Raisa had suffered.

👿 Daniel watched her leave… and a faint smile appeared on his lips. “That’s exactly what I want…” he murmured. “I want you to be strong.” “To fight.” “Because the path we’re walking on…” “…is filled with dangers.” 🔥 His expression darkened. “There may come a time… when I’ll have to stand against you.” “And that day— you’ll have to stand strong.” “Because you’re not just anyone…” “You are the Queen of a Mafia King.” 👿👸🔥

The way he delivered that sentence, made it so frightening and still managed to maintain his smile made me shiver Now I see why they call him the devil. This is a man that can kill you, while smiling at you making you believe you are friends. “I do not understand what you are talking about.” I said , shaking my head because surely he was joking. What league of assassins was he talking about? My father was just a businessman and he never involved himself with that mafia. In fact I knew just how much he hated them… so does this man really expect me to believe his rubbish?

But for now, the lines had been drawn. And he would make sure that no one—absolutely no one—ever dared to cross them again. *** Dante’s study smelled of tobacco, leather, and polished wood. The afternoon light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains in golden shafts, glinting off the black marble floor and the bookshelves crammed with ledgers and documents—papers only a mafia boss would bother to review personally. He was hunched over his desk, going over numbers and balances, when three soft knocks broke the stillness. Without lifting his eyes from the papers, he murmured:

Weeks have passed since a new treaty has been made between the Irish, Russians, and Italian families. I’m still confident in the choice we made and I’m happy that Misha was so accommodating and understanding of my terms. Misha is really jolly and I kind of like him for it. He also throws the guys off, which I personally find funny. Misha is a breath of fresh air compared to the normal stuffy mafia guys. No offense to my kings, but they can be stuffy mafia men when they want to be.

And second—always follow the first rule. Rhys knew the day he stepped foot in this mafia world that this was not going to be easy, and he was not the boy to do easy things. He preferred challenges, thrilling and dangerous ones. And his trust in himself brought him near the pillars of success, as most feared man in underworld and worldwide. He had both the looks and money to buy anything, with just a flick of his fingers. Women, cars, houses, buildings, he could even buy those two lost shipments once again only working a minute. But love….