Rumah Mafia Mewah Novels & Stories

We were sitting in her room catching up, we hadn't seen each other in two weeks. "Yeah, he should be here soon." Mia replies. Diego Garcia is our other best friend, Mia, Diego, and I have been inseparable since we were seven years old. Suddenly, the door opened, "I've arrived," Diego shouts. He always does this. He's a very dramatic person. Diego Garcia is a hacker for our mafia, along with Mia, much like me, Diego and Mia never go on missions. We mostly work from our warehouses. "Stop screaming, Diego." I scold him jokingly.

You'll never wanted nor wish to be put there, it will be the worst nightmare you'll ever had. The car stopped exactly in front of the house, and door was opened by one of my men. I walked out of it while fixing my suit from the curls it got from sitting. The door of the house opened as I walk in. It was lit by lights, and the furnitures shining and screaming elegance and new. The outside old house is only a facade for the insides true beauty. I renovated the inside of this house in case of emergency and we needed a place to hide with. Though they say this is the hell they never wanted to stay with, this will provide a home for those who needed. I never close this for anyone in my mafia.

My brain can’t process what I’m reading right now. “Your Auntie and uncle sold you to me, as well as your company and house.” I glanced at this man. “What? Me, sold? I don’t get it. Why would I sell my company to you?” “The Auntie and uncle who took care of you have a gambling addiction.” They always lose until they owe me and have nothing to pay.” “How much do they owe you?” “Ten billion dollars.” “What?!” I threw the papers in this man’s face. “I don’t believe in this thing!” I shouted at him.

“I already have a lot of clothes I haven’t even worn yet.” “You’ll have more,” he replied, voice low and decisive. “You’re my woman. I can decide to buy the whole mall for you if I want.” “That would be wasteful,” I teased. He pulled out his iPad and handed it to me, a screen filled with listings of luxury homes. “Which of these houses do you like? Consider the location too.” I stared at the images, sprawling estates with gardens, modern penthouses with rooftop terraces, family homes with private security perimeters. “What do I need a house for?”

Meera "Wallowing in self pity at what your life has turned into?" Ace's voice breaks through the silence in his car as we enter the parking space underneath the building where he lives at the top floor penthouse. I look at the sleek and admirable collection of his cars in the private parking space that is reserved for just the owner of the building where the other tenants are not allowed to enter and I am reminded of how easy money always came to my husband. He was born in one of the richest mafia families of Europe and with all the blood money they have, they can make the heavens look cheap.

Matteo said. "Let me make myself clear, Matteo. I do not want some whore you bought," Matteo's son, Vittore answered in a deadly calm voice. Now that word hurt. It made terrifying memories flash in my mind. I sagged, being held up my two men as I tried not to have a panic attack. I breathed slowly. Now was not the time Dalia. You are free ok? You are out. Breathe. Breathe... "I realise she is in fact pathetic but, she is property of our mafia. She's worth billions," I was confused at that.

She was the wife of a powerful mafia lord, after all. Drama was what she was. With an imperious flex of her finger, she gestured at the fancy apartment. "You'll be living here for the time being. I can't stand the squalor of your usual place." She flexed her hand again but sighed, bored or tired, instead of voicing the rest. Her disdainful mannerisms made me feel like a lab rat being ordered around. But I knew better than to smart off if I wanted to avoid psychos like Zhenya for a while. Once this job was done, I could get the hell out of this.

They drove in silence, and she fiddled with the hem of her dress while looking out the window. Her eyes widened as they entered a luxurious residential neighborhood. First thing that came to mind when she heard the word mafia was a dusty, dank backwoods house where she would be starved of light and fresh air. If her captor lived in such a nice area… he must be extremely rich. And extremely powerful. She tried not to gape at the massive 4-storey house as they pulled into the driveway. She was well accustomed to luxury, but this was on another level. “Are you okay?” Lafel caught her eyes in the mirror.

I smiled,making him smile. "By the way,this room is very expensive...you shouldn't have booked it for me." I said to him. "Well,when you are the wife of the owner,you don't need to think that much." He said to me,making my eyes pop out. Owner!!! Woah...but isn't he a mafia? "But aren't you...you a mafia?" I asked him hesitantly

For the past two months, Misha has been residing in Chicago, making preparations for my takeover of the now-defunct Chicago Bratva. Similar to myself, Misha is an active member of the European Bratva, engaging in various illicit activities such as drug trafficking, money laundering, extortion, and contract killings. His expertise extends beyond the realm of criminal operations, encompassing combat skills, weapon proficiency, and the art of manipulation and control.