Novel & Cerita Russian Mob Books

Originally, the mafia consisted of little more than scattered little groups of peasants, often outlaws, who found in each other's strength and resolve the basis of a new moral We are very similar, surprises me how the two have been at war for centuries. The main similarity between Russian and Italian mafia is a strict code of conduct and behavior. "There is a traditional code of conduct within this old style of organized crime in Russia called "Vory v Zakone," or thieves in law. The members are bound by 18 codes and if they are broken, the transgression is punishable by death" Italian mafia uses murders and thefts as the main methods of violence. The Russian mafia groups use extortion, credi

Nightroe added, his voice tinged with a certain tone of protest. It briefly made Svanna more certain of the man’s intentions. However, she would stick to her original plan. “You’re a mobster, are you?” she asked deliberately, glancing at Nightroe’s reluctant expression. Even though the man immediately replied, “Yes.” Until Svanna silently smirked, “So?” she asked again. This time, it made Nightroe click his tongue. “I shouldn’t be using something as cute as that.” Svanna felt her laughter almost burst out. She had to struggle to control herself while thinking of the best answer.

He murmurs and keeps serving the drinks to the people. That means Robert was an exclusive member and he had seen the boss. When he said he messed up with the boss, that means whoever the boss is implicated behind Robbie's disappearance. "Who's that?" I ask through gritted teeth. "Ivan Volkov, the Russian mafia king, is known as the Devil to the underworld. He's also called as 'the boss of all bosses'. Gosh, nobody dares to speak about him." The fear in Jimmy's eyes is clear like crystal as he whispers carefully.

The penthouse apartment echoed with the sound of shattering glass and Nikolai's furious roars. SAINT PETERSBURG, RUSSIA(THE BRATVA'S EMPIRE) After the success of the engagement party between Mikhail Morozov and Donatella De Luca, the La Mano Rojas sent a message to the Bratva's empire, causing chaos within the empire.

She moaned for effect, her eyes half closed and still on Eron as she grinded even more into Mikel. His breasts. His lips. His body. All on another man. He growled lowly in rage and was out of the room in no time, his head spinning. As soon as he got out, his fists began connecting with the wall countlessly, he couldn't believe he had just watched his woman get touched by another man. She loved it, he thought painfully. Get a grip, Eron. Get a grip. His subconscious kept telling him. A Mafia Lord shouldn't be this much of a pussy. Mikel had to die, he reasoned as his forehead rested on the wall.

Oh, I shouldn't call him 'that man'; his name is Riley Morgan. With nothing else to do, I strolled around the room. The office is spacious, with a big desk and a comfy chair. There's a fancy computer, a big window with thick curtains, and shelves filled with important-looking books. The walls proudly display awards and diplomas, and a plush carpet covers the floor. It's a room that feels important and powerful. On one side, there's a door, and I'm clueless about its purpose. Meanwhile, right in front of it, there's another door. I've got a hunch that it's a bathroom—just a gut feeling, you know? I just shrugged, leaning back on the couch's headrest. Luigi's office is even bigger than my own

Luca…Good riddance. The moment I stepped through the back doors, a deep baritone flowed to me from the far end of the hallway, where his office was located, and my poor heart started racing immediately. Damon was back. What’s up with my heart, though? Arrhythmia? **** “The Russian Mob has infiltrated our territory.” The words stilled me as I leaned forward into the door, careful not to press against it. Russians? I’ve heard they had the deadliest crime gangs in the entire world…

I said. "The Continental?" Chloe asked. "Isn't that... owned by the Russian Mob?" "Yes," I smirked. "And they owe me a favor. Page 42 of the Black Book." I closed the book with a snap. "Get some sleep, Chloe. Tomorrow, we go shopping."

In the shadows of Moscow's underworld, a name struck fear into the hearts of many: Daniil Morozov, the merciless leader of the Russian mafia's most notorious gang, the "Morozov Bratva." His reputation for ruthlessness and cunning had earned him the nickname "The Butcher." Daniil's empire was built on blood, sweat, and tears. His lucrative brothel, "The Red Diamond," was a hub for human trafficking, catering to the darkest desires of Moscow's elite.

"Is that so? Tell me, Claire. Have you had an encounter with a mafia boss before?" "Well..." She shrugged. "Not really. But I've read books." I frowned. "Books?" She peeked at me from under her lashes and sighed. "I know it sounds stupid, but believe me, I've read a lot of books about mafia dons. And trust me, you don't look like one. No offense." "None taken." I chuckled. "But tell me, how do they look in the books you read?" She fiddled with her hands for a moment before answering. "Well, they're mostly Italian or Russian. They're dark and mysterious. They're always with a gun. They have several women..."