Russian Mafia Books Novels & Stories

She had lost it. With a small huff, Rosa sat back down, flipping through the book again to search slowly this time. That’s when certain words caught her eye. Mafia. Blood. Gun. Knife. Betrayal. Loyalty and many more dark words. Her brows furrowed deeper with each word. What kind of book was this? Rosa let out a soft sigh. Her fingers brushed the leather cover with disappointment. She hadn’t come for this. She only wanted to see the name on that letter. Just the name.

She made eyes at Tyrone who gave a merry snort of laughter. “Do you know who Edik Volkov is? Sacha Volkov? Lenin Volkov?” The man paled visibly, “yeah, I mean everyone does. Russian mafia. I knew a guy who borrowed money from them and he was found splattered against the walls of his apartment.” She sniggered at the comment. It was something her uncle would have done. Never proven of course. Just rumours in the underworld and she knew better to ask if it was true but she suspected it was. He liked to play with exploding bullets.

“Text me the names. I need to speak to my men and my family about what they might know. My father did business in the southern part of the United States for years, abandoning it because of border issues. However, what I know about the Russian mafia is that they are brutal and when they set their sights on a territory, they don’t give a shit who is in the way.” I nodded. “I need to get into the file Christine had. Maybe I’m wrong about what she was working on. Why would she consider getting involved with the Russians?” “Money. Greed does many things to people. If she was power hungry, eager to move up politically, the Bratva are extremely well funded, a portion of their funds kept in secure o

After all, Nightroe wouldn't dare to do anything as long as she was under the supervision of the man's father. Honestly, Svanna was not very proud of being the chosen daughter-in-law of someone who was once a mafia boss but felt a little lucky when Russol Sullivan was willing to defend her before the middle-aged man's eldest son. It wasn't that Nightroe wouldn't do anything. Just at least, they knew the ruthless man would be much more cautious about taking action.

Rose then turned to her father. “This is the one chance I had to win this stupid case. If Stan did something to my lawyer, I would be the one to kill him!” she warned with a serious expression. Rose seemed different and very angry. This wasn't the girl I had spent some time with before the nailing of that man, this was Lord's daughter, the Mafia princess. “Let me give him a call” Lord suggested, but Rose refused. “He knows he has messed up and won't take your calls” she said as she pulled out her phone and began talking to someone. When she was done, she turned to look at me.

In that case, I could not blame her. She had left me for a man who was nothing better than I was, and yet, according to her, he was ‘different’. Different how? He was the Capo of Cosa Nostra like I was the Capo of 'Ndrangheta. Adonis Vitale ruled most of New York alongside his rivals, the Illianos, while I ruled the entirety of Canada. We were both territorial men. We were both Mafia lords. I did not understand any part of Belle’s logic.

He said and I nodded in a yes. "Are they the R?" one of Romano's man asked and I was shocked... how do they know? "Whole Mafia world is talking that we are the R. But actually the R is queen's personal Mafia. Right?" other one said and I nodded. "yes... they are the R. And we work to clean the Mafia especially human trafficking chains in Russia which are really inhuman." I kept it short and I can see the judgement in their eyes.

But I inevitably felt frustrated when I remember he mentioned the sex slave thingy. "D-damien, you're joking right?" I laughed along with that because I wanted to hide my frustration. "Sabrina, I'm not just a businessman but, I'm a mafia king too. A dominant and a sadist. I like to play in the bed but to someone I want. I have flings before but no one of them ever pass my standards." I was just stunned by what he said. I didn’t know what to say because I was surprised too.

I decide that the mob boss probably wouldn't locate his bedroom close to the servants living space and head down the empty hallway. While I carefully take small, nervous steps down the hallway, I notice many pictures of many different (what seems to be) mafia leaders who are all Russian. The first one is from the 1800's and I follow more and more until I finally stop at the last one: the man who's attention I had caught this morning. His name is Andrei Volkov. As I start to admire his handsomeness on the picture even more, I notice there's a door right beside me. The closer I come to the door, I begin to hear someone yelling very angrily in what must be Russian.

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