Signed To The Mafia King Novels & Stories

“But you didn’t steal because you needed to. You stole because you thought you could. Because you thought I was stupid mmmm.” “No, Boss, please, I have kids… I have a family…..i…” I grabbed his jaw, forcing his face up to mine. “They’ll be orphans if you don’t start speaking like a man.” He sobbed, broken teeth showing through bloody foam. I dropped his face and signaled Luca. “Behind the back,” I muttered. “Razor wire.” Two men moved. Marco screamed as they kicked his legs apart, forced his arms higher behind him, then looped barbed wire around his elbows, tightening until metal bit into skin. Blood began to pour.

His eyes were bloodshot and wild. "I am doing my best, Sara. I’m doing everything I can to be here for you and the kids. I don’t give a fuck about being a part of the mafia anymore. I don’t know how to further prove that to you. All I have ever done is try to keep them safe, keep you safe, and prove to you that my family is most important. I asked Antonio for help because he said there was a greater threat to us. I wouldn’t have done that if I cared more about being king of the underworld than I cared about you. Don’t you get that? That might not have been the right choice but it’s what I know."

He paused for a while, and continued, "You are my nightingale and will be mine forever. I only loved you, I love you and I will love you for the entire life. And for the next upcoming births, I want you as my life." Tears dropped down. He kissed my eyes whirling me. It was stopping the tears. "I only hated you in the past," I whispered in an apologetic tone. "But now you love me," He snuggled around my neck. "Yes, but I never expected you so soft as you are treating me. After all, you are the king of the mafia world," I uttered with a little courage. Calling him cruel means awakening his sword. "Does mafia king have not to heart, feelings?" He asked making me shut.

I knew who he was. Everyone knew about Alejandro King. He was a huge mafia boss and owned lots of businesses both near and far. He was known for being a ruthless murderer who’d snap your neck in a second, so I knew that whatever my father did was not good and that is why I made Alejandro promise me that he wouldn’t hurt my father.

Tommaso Zahur laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “That is very possible, Mr. Conti. I have a great many things. But why would you wanting one of them convince me not to kill you?” I swallowed. This close, I could see the hard glint in his eye. Zahur Farhat didn’t waste words. When he said he would kill me, he meant it. “I’m the right hand of the mafia king of Philadelphia.” I put my hand in my pocket to grab the Polaroid. “He and I are willing to do a lot to get her back.”

“Camila…” She rose up on her toes, her hand sliding to the back of my neck. “Stop thinking about her,” she whispered. “Stop letting her poison your mind.” And then her lips were on mine. For a split second, I froze. This was Camila. Isabella’s best friend. My fiancée’s—my ex-fiancée’s—maid of honor. But then the thought dissolved. Because Isabella had betrayed me. She’d thrown away three years for one night with a stranger. She’d destroyed everything.

I let out a groan, almost slamming my head against a wall. But I didn't miss the look in his eyes, I wasn't the only one who felt this way. I could tell that the subtle searching I was doing quite obviously wouldn't work. I needed information strong enough to bring the mafia king to his knees along with his entire empire. And the only way I could get such information was from him himself. I needed to seduce him and make him fall for me. Or at least trust me enough to give me the information I wanted. My gaze fell on the mirror and I slowly pushed my robe to aside.

There was Don Salvador, who everyone boasted, had won the great mafia war with a single bullet; Lord Pedro who was said to have had the most wives; Bruno the Wild who no one dared to call so while he lived… the pictures went back as far as the all, and there were more. Mama had not brought them all. At the very end of the long hall, there he was: Papa, the golden Mafia king (or so he liked to call himself). He was the best. The greatest. He had not done much but that was not the point. He had fought for his family. He was a man. He was a true king. And soon, he would join him, right there on that wall. Ernesto inhaled. He would make sure of it.

Someone should have slapped me for staring again. “I'm merely curious, and the name somehow doesn't suit you,” the predator—Grey—crooned, making my gaze snap back to his face. A wicked smile curved his sinful lips. “The name is one thing, though. The wig… is quite an interesting choice, too.” My stomach dropped to my knees. God, he was suspecting something, wasn't he? Emidio Abramo was a member of the Mafia, so maybe this Grey was, too. Perhaps he knew Ardian; he knew Ardian was looking for me. I was royally screwed if that was the case. Suddenly, my breath became shallow, the high-pitched tone filled my ears, and my heart began to hit against my ribs like a wild animal.

I raised a brow at her and smirked. "We're the knight Ryder's darling. And you're stuck in a room full of dangerous people that are part of the most powerful, dangerous and ruthless Mafia that has America under control by their Mafia king who's in charge of everything that is happening all around you, and their Mafia king who won't take no for an answer from a clueless feisty women like you." Her eyes slowly widen as she glanced around the room with cautious. "Mafia king?" She asked out loud with confusion. "Yes darling. Mafia king." I repeated. She stared at me with wide shocked eyes and I smiled at her. "Me."