Rumah Mafia Mewah Novels & Stories

"You made damn well sure of that remember? And the only family I had died four years ago so don't stand there and tell me shit about friends and family. I am all alone in this world and i've already made my peace with that fact." At her outbursts, a strange expression took over her father's features and if she didn't know better, she would have thought he was hurt by her statement, but she had learned earlier on in life that Christopher Meyer was an unfeeling bastard whose heart was made up of rocks.and dynamite. He felt no emotions whatsover, and the only time one could get a reaction out of him was when money was involved, and even those reactions were only ever centred around anger, self

, He concluded and the crowd gave a round of applause including me while Nikolai didn't even move a muscle. Something was off, the Vladimir family is a long line of mafia and underworld leaders, why then are they doing charity? They are known to be killers, smugglers, drug traffickers and worse, why do they take out their time to give back to the poor every new year? Could they be some other agenda or are they just doing it out of the kindness of their heart? “Please enjoy the party, buy whatever and do have a Moscow Masquerade evening”, He said, leaving the stage.

He smirked at his teasing but I just glared at him. "You wish. You look like shit." I turned away from him and moved my hands to the doorknob, turning it and pushing the doors wide open to reveal the luxury that lay inside. It's expected of a Pakhan, the Bratva's Mafia Lord. That's what they were called. Sighing, I move to enter the room but his deep voice stopped me in my tracks; "Baby girl," He called and the endearment sent goosebumps up my arms. Good goosebumps though, and I hated it, "You'd better not think about running. You wouldn't get far. Not here, not now.

★ The next morning. Nepher Jager Mansion Nepher Jager’s house, nestled on a bluff overlooking the older, more established sector of Belg City, was the architectural definition of old Mafia wealth. It didn't possess the stark, digital austerity of Khaid’s Lot 27. Instead, it was built of warm, aged limestone and dark, glossy mahogany. The house was expansive and elegant, whispering of generations of quiet dominance. Khaid drove into the spacious compound and parked his car expertly. He ignored the greetings of the maids and guards. “Hypocrites” He muttered under his breath as he advanced towards the mansion entrance.

He was a white collar Mafia, the kind that operated behind the scenes, pulling the strings and making deals that others could only dream of. His office was a reflection of his status, a lavish display of wealth and extravagance that was unmatched by anyone else in La Paz. The room was large, with high ceilings and walls adorned with expensive artwork from around the world. The floors were covered in plush, cream-colored carpets that felt like walking on clouds.

“He’s reformed.” “He’s not!” A lock of his thick, slicked-back gray-brown hair had come loose at his little outburst. He smoothed it with one hand. “Bohdi Michaels has been working with the Russian mafia since Paris. He’s amassed more than thirteen million in illegal investments. Most of that he kept hidden within fictitious entities and offshore shell corporations. He has used the money to purchase oceanfront real estate in fictitious names. I have multiple sources who have confirmed this.” Slater’s unedited reveal exposed he knew as much as I did—and maybe more—about Bohdi Michaels.

I whispered harshly. “We’ve been trying to link him to the organized crimes going on in Russia for years,” she continued. “Actually, we know he's part of the Russian Mafia. We just haven't been able to provide a solid proof, yet. Ivan’s a ghost. His legal empire gives him the shielding he needs and it doesn't help that his wife's companies give him more leverage.” I frowned but didn't say anything as she continued. “Her company gives him a branch out to spread into England’s territory. Their marriage seems weird to me especially with the fact that there were rumors stating that he had kidnapped her before they became lovers.”

The mafia's maid "Fuck!" Jeremy causes out loud when his secretary came to tell him that his drugs has been dismantled by a mobster. "They all know that any mobster who turns against me must have a gruesome death," he said as he roared out loud. Ashley woke up early, as usual, she did her morning ablution and went straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, there she saw other maids with which she exchange greetings.

Nicola’s brow furrowed as he said, “You want to share an idea ion how to punish him?” “Hmm... Yes,” I said while playing with my fingers. “Go on,” he said, while looking amused. "According to you, a mafia is like a huge family governed by trust, and he destroyed the trust of the family." I exhaled loudly. They asked, “Yes?” They seemed confused, which made me smile as I explained my plan to them. As soon as I was done, I noticed Ben looking astonished, and a bit terrified, while Nicolas seemed shocked and proud.

Chase was already walking towards the door and Ciara was behind him. Mrs. Whitmore was standing at a corner watching them. “He really does love her huh?” she asked staring at Chase as he spoke to the cop, his irritation obvious in his body language. “Yes,” Kol said acknowledging it for the first time. “He really does.” *** “Its an abandoned building and from our research, it belongs to Mr Amore, the actual leader of the mafia and Franklyn’s boss. Our sources say that thirty-five billion naira worth of illegal goods are being kept there.”