Russian Mafia Books Novels & Stories

She buried her head and thoughts into the search report on her computer screen. [The deep vines of the mafia families in Russia run down to even schools. The two major Russian mafia clans, the Kalashnikov's and the Prulhitvanc's have been in existence for far too long to remember. While they are the known ancestors of mafia in Russia, several other small clans have come up in today's world. For the past decade, it has been noticed that while the new clans continued to diminish each passing day, the two clans have steadily increased as if the major clans were sucking up new found clans. The hidden agreement between the Kalashnikov and the Prulhitvanc's keeping them living among each other in

I knew, I was with the Mafia of the Russian Mafia. Don Brian Wayne D'carppo. TBC 1057 words....phew, I'm so close in ending this book. Xoxo.... ivy Go read my book THE CEO AND I on Goodnovel now! Chapter 48 Bennett 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦... 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒...

If he was taking me to see his mistress or some secret love child, I swore I would push him off the nearest pier. But we didn't go to the docks. We moved inland, toward a part of the landscape where the industrial rot of Murmansk gave way to the raw, jagged beauty of the Tundra. We stopped by a waterfall Lenochka had mentioned once, a place where the water didn't so much fall as it shattered against the black rocks, frozen mist hanging in the air like diamonds. Yamelyan stood by the edge of the spray, staring into the rushing white water. "There was once a powerful man in Russia," he began, his voice competing with the roar of the falls. "A man who sat among the Twelve Lords of the Russian M

Behind the rusty two-inch, thick bars of cell number five on the third lower level of El Sótano sits Andrya, a member of Timur Balandin’s little crusaders, a part of the Russian mafia. My town is a sacred ground. It is forbidden for the Russian mafia to set foot or even inhale the Las Mencían air. They aren’t even allowed to cruise on the waters surrounding these lands. They are not even fucking allowed to murmur the name of this town. Balandin just declared war by sending his men to my home.

Three billion dollars. The ledger isn’t just a knife at Sergei Volkov's throat. It’s a financial nuclear bomb. Alexei Romanov mapped out the entire lifeblood of the Russian mafia. If that information is leaked to the global financial authorities, the Volkov empire ceases to exist. They’ll be frozen, hunted, and entirely dismantled. "Keep translating," I command. "Upload the decrypted data to Mara's secure server as you clear each page. Do not stop." I cut the connection and slide the phone back into my pocket.

They had become enemies, and he had nearly died at Valentine's hands—the idea of warning him was absurd. To erase Valentine from his mind, Eugene thought about the Russian mafia he would soon meet. Commonly known as the Red Mafia, they were notorious for their cruelty. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, many elites including military generals and government officials had been absorbed into the Red Mafia. Unlike Italian mafia who valued family and honor, the Red Mafia was a thoroughly corporate-style organization that moved solely for profit.

Every moment brought us closer together. I began to long for more time with him. His woodsy fragrance. His caress. It had been too long since we’d been intimate. With Bohdi Michaels’ trial weeks away, I looked deeper into terrorist groups and specifically the Russian mafia. I tried to glean the scope of their reach. While it seemed improbable, I’d uncover blacker crimes committed by them—selling weapons to terrorists, funding corrupt politicians, and promoting war in the Middle East—it turned out it was not impossible. I trolled the U.S. Justice Department files for more information. The darker subject came out of a single article I found about Tsezar from nearly thirty years ago. Proof that

Alessia slid into the plush leather seat, her heart racing. As the car pulled away from the curb, Alessia's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. What am I doing? she wondered, her fingers nervously smoothing the fabric of her dress. This isn't just some wealthy businessman. This is the Bratva. The Russian mafia. The realization sent a chill down her spine. She'd heard whispers about the Bratva's activities in the city - extortion, drug dealing, even human trafficking. And now she was willingly walking into their world.

That’s a dumb question, Julianna, My subconscious muttered. “Nikolai’s of course,” she replied, “Who is he? Who are you people,” I asked, my voice steady as I spoke to her, she doesn’t make me nervous like Nikolai. “Nikolai Vasiliev is a Russian mafia don, I’m here just to take care of you,” she said, “I guess he already told you this… You have to work with me in the kitchen every day from now,” “Yeah, he told me,” I said,

And this business had been able to build a stronghold within the city. George Nahart. He is the operator of this business, also known as the Kingpin in this district. George had been silently eyeing Marco Alfonso ever since the words that he has a well protected built-in vault in his basement has reached his ears. According to his informant, Marco Alfonso possesses the Russian artifact that Goerge Nahart’s target client was asking to present to him as a token of alliance.