Russian Mob Stars Novels & Stories

Within the last six to nine years, there had only been six who qualified. Ethan ran the movie industry. He also did a lot of modeling and production alongside acting. He was well-known all over the world; men and women adored him. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was well-spoken, regal, and kind. That was the persona he displayed in public. The side of him they didn’t know... he was a ruthless killer. Noah ran the oil fields along with the underground mafia business with his father and Xavier. Xavier also ran his own private technology business. He was one of the most brilliant hackers in the world.

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.

They're not exactly familiar with how my world works. They don't know about Italian families and the mafia. They're aware of the fictitious story, but not the real aspects. They think it's barbaric to arrange a marriage for someone. They hear about murders from the news and on TV. I grew up hearing about assassinations. Sometimes, they involved people we knew. It was just how it was. My friends don't know about this. They would never understand. Some things are best kept secret. I finish my panna cotta with forest fruits just as the Ferrante family stands. We do the same. Dad grasps Marc's hand and shakes it. "Thank you for coming," he says with a smile. "Meeting you has been an honor."

Prologue Anastasia Olivia, Scarlett, and I swayed to the music in the Russian Orchid, laughing and carefree. This nightclub in Moscow was a must, according to tips Scarlett received. It has been the best summer ever; it would stay with us forever. I couldn’t remember the last time all three of us felt so happy and relaxed. We were having the time of our lives. Our last hurrah before life would take us all away and back to reality. There was a young Russian singer on the stage singing, and even though we couldn’t understand a single word, the beat drove our bodies as we danced.

And, my dear friend Katina is turning twenty today. Being the offspring of a mafia kingpin often leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. To put it bluntly, my father is Satan incarnate. Hailed as the most feared, merciless, heinous and self-serving figure in the world of organized crime. I can go on and on with derogatory adjectives, yet words fail to do him justice. He is the bloodthirsty commander of the Russian mob, the notorious Рыцари крови. Speaking of masterminds, the ruling don of global underworld bosses is none other than Semion Lebedev from Russia.

Finally it was his time, he chuckled standing up and leisurely walking out like an untamed boss. If Alexander Storm thought he did something then he was wrong, he forgot the man he was dealing with was Cyril Sokolov, the Russian Mafia who had spent his whole life far disgusting and bad environment than this. If only that silver spooned Mama's boy knew the struggle Cyril had to endure just to climb to the position he was at today, he might pass out.

The Russian mob boss's expression darkened further. "And you think she likes you? You're pathetic," Mark continued, his laughter turning into a bitter snort. "You think because you're the big boss, you can just take what you want? Well, guess what? She has such a nice ass" The Russian mob boss's grip tightened on the gun, his knuckles white with anger. "When my hands roamed all over her body, it felt nice" Mark's words cut through the air like a knife, and Dmitry's face contorted in rage. Dmitry walked backwards, rage coursed through his veins but he tried to remain collected.

I was more interested in our position and the wealth acquired. "We have had reports that the Russian mafia is doing extremely well. Well enough to threaten our position and to take over our territory." Sabre spoke 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." Sabre said as he glanced at me. Why the fuck is he looking at me.

He shook his head slightly and shrugged, an indication that he, too, was as clueless as I was about the impending announcement. "It's no secret that the Mexican Mafia has been encroaching upon Russia, seeking to establish a foothold and eventually overthrow the Tambov Bratva," my father's voice resonated with a somber undertone, capturing the room's attention. "Recent information has informed me that they've formed strategic alliances with both the American mafia and the Triad. Russia's prominence as a target for them is undeniable, and their determination to conquer it is unwavering. Given these circumstances, and after consultations with the Avtoritets, I've made the decision to forge an a

His skin is unexpectedly smooth. “The flower shop?!” I exclaim. Alex grins from ear to ear. I should have guessed! That is not a very common name around here: “I Fiori di Vittorio” the front for Vittorio Ricci’s dirty mafia gang. They have flower shops all over town and in other parts of the country too, which probably cover all of their illegal operations. Those employees in suits are not florists, they are mobsters! I’ll never set a foot in those shops ever again.