Rumah Mafia Mewah Novels & Stories

I was more interested in our position and the wealth we had acquired. "We have had reports that the Russian mafia is doing extremely well. Infact, they are doing well enough to threaten our position and to take over our territory," Ken said as he waved his hands about. Everyone stilled as they watched him. I also stared at the overgrown ape and the hideous tattoos that covered his neck. "There have been rumours of a rat in our mafia, boss," Ken added as he glanced at me. Why the fuck was he even looking at me? I hit a fist down onto the table so hard that it made a loud thudding sound. A couple of grown men flinched in their seats and I chuckled darkly before I began to speak.

It’s too cold to be up this early on a Saturday morning. Almost a hundred feet up from the long driveway of the house, a large black SUV is idling. The rear windows are tinted completely black while the driver and passenger are smoky gray, so they won’t get a ticket. Whoever they are, they’re mafia. If there was any doubt the tinted windows clinched it. That and they were carefully out of shot of the cameras—that they know where the cameras are speaks volumes. All mafia Carlo does business with comes to him—usually at his huge house. A house empty of anyone except him and sometimes my mother, when he allowed her to stay the night. Carlo got off on power plays, and showing off his home always

They bribe world leaders with millions in cash and kill spies who dare get too close. A life in the Leonardo mafia is rewarded with great wealth that comes with great danger. The homes that Leonardo owns are endless and they are neither small or cheap. He lives in one of the most expensive homes in all of Italy, a home worth billions of dollars, with an airport in the backyard and an amusement park for his daughter. This is not even mentioning the possession of fifty fast cars in his underground parking garage.

But I couldn’t stop now. Riccardo Moretti never needed to raise his voice to command respect. His presence alone did that. “I refuse to believe I raised such a stupid daughter,” he said evenly. “You still don’t get it? In this world, no one does what they want. Everyone does what they must.” “I know,” I replied quickly. “I know how the mafia works. Rules. Deals. Hierarchy. But—” “But nothing,” he interrupted again. “Everything has a price.”

I feel like I’ll need to dumb myself down. Antonio pulled me down the hall and into the grand living room. Then he showed us the office, the outside terrace, the pool area, and the greenhouse. Everything was so over the top and gaudy. The DeMarcos loved to show their wealth, but having wealth didn’t necessarily mean having taste. “When you are the lady of the mafia,” Antonio advised. “You can redecorate the entire house to your liking. Only the best for my little doll.” Bryanna huffed. “Antonio, can you show us upstairs?” Bryanna asked.

I clung to a final shred of hope that he would step in to protect me, just as he always had. But the bald man was rubbing his hands together, a lecherous grin on his face as he stalked toward me. Alessandro just let out a soft chuckle, not moving a muscle. Just as I was about to close my eyes and resign myself to my fate, I heard a familiar voice. "Three million?" Alessandro said, slowly turning the paddle in his hand. "Then I'll bid five million." The bald Capo froze, stopping in his tracks. My heart began to pound.

I insisted. "I promise," she replied. I turned to Geremia, "Are the cars ready?" I asked. "Yes boss, they are," he told me. "Good, let's go," I told him. We drove to the site of the meeting. It was the family home of the Ferrante mafia family. Ferrante was very powerful and ruthless. He did anything and everything which would give him money. From drug trafficking, to prostitution, to human trafficking, pimping of child brides. The man was evil and he didn't give a fuck about anyone's opinion.

Each room was more impressive than the last, with multiple leisure spots scattered throughout the house—from a cozy reading nook to a sun-drenched terrace overlooking the sea. After the tour, Ethan briefly spoke with the kitchen staff, asking them to prepare dinner while they caught up on the patio. The house was more than just a display of wealth; it was a fortress. The doors were state-of-the-art security level, and the windows were bulletproof—a detail that didn’t escape Britney’s notice. "What are you being protected from?" Britney asked with a raised eyebrow, her tone light but laced with curiosity. "A Russian or Italian mafia lord would comfortably reside here. I know you’re a wealthy

He asks when tons of questions keep stabbing him from inside. “Yes, I am.” “How dare you enter my house?” His presence billows Jacob’s heart from the inside, but he tries to stay calm. Henry’s gaze has trailed all over the house, that is reflecting the wish of seeing someone in particular. The living room is the same as before; nothing has changed at all. The color of the walls, the decoration of the living room, the cozy, comfortable couch with the pillows printed with the art of two little boys—everything is the same as before, just the pattern of the relationship has been changed brutally. Controlling all the emotions that have been raised a while ago, his gaze falls on Jacob. “Calm down,

That was hilarious. "Oh, it belongs to the family all right." I replied with a harsh chuckle. "This is an old mafia safehouse. Has been for years. And all the neighbors? That nice couple we went to visit? Retired mafia. In fact, everybody here is retired mafia. Why do you think we're so safe here? How does it have everything we need?" How could my wife still be so innocent? After everything she'd seen, everything she experienced? How could she not know?