Novel & Cerita Possessive Mafia Romance

"Then why is your pulse racing? Why are your nipples hard against your shirt? Why can I smell how wet you are right now?" I gasped, scandalized yet turned on beyond belief. "You're disgusting." "Maybe," he agreed, pulling back to look me in the eye. "But I'm also right. Your body knows who it belongs to, even if you're too stubborn to admit it." Part of me knew I was playing with fire. Dante wasn't just any man – he was the heir to a mafia empire, the leader of a motorcycle club, and apparently, intensely possessive of things he considered his.

He walked towards me on the bed, his thick footsteps hitting the floor. As soon as I felt his presence near me, I jerked up and wanted to attack him with a pen I found on the bed. He was quick to grab my hand and held it tight. Our eyes met, he was… Dominick Castillo, the same Mafia lord I was sent to steal drugs from last month.

“Well, that motherfucker deserves to die. After sexually harassing and sexually abusing many people, telling him to commit suicide isn’t enough as atonement for his sins.” Leon shook his head. No matter what he says, Hunter will always have a reason. “By the way, any news about the Delgados?” Hunter asked. “They’ve partnered with Director Evangelista of Fast Freight. They seem to be widening their business reach, as we’ve heard. It also seems they are still gathering some intel about our group and us and telling everyone they will dethrone us in the mafia world.” “I originally wouldn’t give a shit about how they wanted to run their businesses and their group as long as they wouldn’t interfer

The other day of marriage I was compelled to come here, a completely deserted island, he owns. He is not Nico, I used to love, he is Nicolas Costello, the world fears, the Capo of Italian mafia. I feel myself as a caged bird, who ought to fly heights but now is captured by bird of prey. unknowningly a lone tear escaped my eyes. I never wanted this, I wanted love, my whole life, I craved for love, just to get, ignorance, betrayal, cheating. My dad, Paul and now him. The person I truly love is behind my blood.

He pressed the gun more to my waist making me let out a small gasp. "I am not only a billionaire kitten. I am also a mafia leader. And this crazy mafia wants you at any cost. And it will be better if you just submit to me or I have my own ways to make you do it." I flinched when I felt his cold lips on my warm neck. I tried to move away but he wrapped his one hand on my waist and other was still pressing the gun. "And you have no idea how dangerous and cruel my ways can be. And you just got a demo of your lovely friend laying on the bed half dead." His lips brushed against my earlobe making me moved a little in disgust.

She was the daughter of a prominent royal family and a former flame of mine. Memories flooded back, taking me back to a time when Rena and I had shared a passionate romance that had been doomed from the start. Our love had been forbidden, as I was a mafia, and Rena was a princess, destined to marry a prince from a powerful neighboring kingdom. The prospect of reconnecting with Rena and reigniting the flames of our former passion was both thrilling and dangerous, as such a love was still considered a scandalous taboo. "Thank you for your cooperation," I said, my voice calm. "You may leave now."

“At least tell me your name.” “Bianca.” “I’m Roman Rutherford. Call me Roman.” He extended a hand. I shook it, noting the strength in his grip. “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, stepping closer. “You're being mean because you’re here with your husband?” “I’m not married. I just want to be alone,” I said, firm, cautious. “I know you’ve got a lot going on. I just want to understand,” he said softly. I hissed, brushing past him. “The worst mafia aren’t the arrogant ones, they’re the charming ones.”

Conti, with his patched up face straining with every word, called out to the scattered company, with a low, urgent voice, which cut the sheriff in a dozen slices, and the mystery was increased when we learned that the stolen cellar books contained not alone a business account but personal records--birth certificates and old photographs and even letters of the deceased mother of Mantovani--and it was like stealing our souls of our very souls. I ceased pacing, and kneeling beside Mantovani, my hand to his knee, touching the warmth of his skin through his jeans and he looked up and his features relaxed a moment and drew me upon his lap, where I fitted snugly in place, his arms encircling me lik

The memory was still so vivid. That day still haunted me. How could I ever forget that day? After a few minutes, we arrived. The negotiation was to take place in a derelict factory. Xavier helped me from the car, and we entered the crumbling building. Dust coated every surface; water leaked from the damaged roof, and puddles lay scattered across the floor, each step sending up a spray of dirty water. Everyone gathered, bowing before Eric dela Cruz, a twenty-five-year-old leader of the River Blood Mafia, my current fiancé. He sat in his chair, opposing our business partner.

I was no longer just his possession. I was becoming his obsession. And in the dangerous world of the mafia, obsessions like this… never ended quietly.