Slapped The Mafia Boss Novels & Stories

I looked at them. They were all in black. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that they were the mafia. This must be a mistake. It wasn’t possible. I wasn’t going to believe anything they had said.“100 million dollars? Do you know what you are saying?” I asked the leader of the men as I raised my head in defiance. “You can ask your grandfather” he smugly replied. I turned to my grandpa and saw that he had a similar expression on his face. Before my grandfather could speak, the gang leader beat him to it.“Hey you!” the leader called the other person and they moved towards me.

He groaned in pain. "You bitch, When I get my hands on you, you are going to regret it," he said as he spatted at me. "No. You are the one who is going to regret slapping me. Didn't your mother teach you never to lay a hand on a woman?" I asked him. I knew that it was angering him but at this point I did not care about losing my job or what would happen to me if his mafia comes after me. But who cares? He is not the head of a mafia or something.

she said evenly. That earned her a low, amused chuckle. “You’re not what I expected from a maid.” “And you’re not what I expected from a mafia boss.” He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until there were only a few inches between them. The faint scent of whiskey and smoke curled around her. His voice dropped. “You say ‘mafia’ like it’s a bad word.” “I say it like it’s a dangerous one.” For a moment, the air between them was charged, his gaze dipping briefly to her mouth before meeting her eyes again. Then, just as quickly, he stepped back, the moment broken.

Everything had been a lie—a manipulation and a show to lead to that moment, the moment he could get revenge against the mafia that covered up the man who raped him and did the same to his mother, destroying his life. I'd been a pawn in his game of conquest—not more than another piece on that board, someone Marco manipulated according to his will. Fury invaded me, and without thinking anymore, I clenched my fist and raised it quickly, punching his face hard. The surprise and force made him release the chair and stagger back. I didn't care about the pain spreading through my fingers and knuckles—I stood and went after him, kneeing his groin and leaving him grunting in pain before turning towar

Nothing worked. Then they started hitting me. Every strike hurt like fire. My back, my legs, my ribs—everything ached. I screamed. “Please! Stop!” But they laughed. “They say your fiancé is a mafia boss,” the big man sneered. “And you? So fragile.” Another strike hit me. I couldn’t breathe. My body shook. I curled up, tried to block it, but it kept coming. Every laugh, every hit, made me feel smaller. Finally… I couldn’t take it anymore. My legs gave out. My chest hurt too much. My head spun. And then everything went black.

“I don’t know. I kept the papers safe. I don’t know how they got out.” “We trusted you,” the masked man said, tapping the frame with his barrel. “That’s why we chose your idea over Astor’s.” My mother lifted her face, her hands clasped together. “Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t do this.” “I wish I could believe you but Astor Giovanni came with proof of your betrayal.” He responded “I’m sorry,” the man said quietly. “But someone has to pay.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please….” The first gunshot tore through the house.

In the next instant, she slapped him across the face and hissed, "Chase, it should be an honor for you to marry me! How dare you get yourself involved with other women?" As she lashed out at him, she delivered several blows to his face. With his head hung down, he retreated backward meekly, lacking even the courage to retaliate. I snorted, leisurely watching the scene before me. Chase, the mafia boss who had once been a somewhat influential figure in the underground world, now seemed so servile in front of a woman. How ironic. I lifted my hand, signaling Skylar to inform the others now. Chase's incompetency had just extinguished the very last sliver of hope I had for him.

“And I slit his throat.” I slapped him. The slap lacked energy but he still whipped his head to the side dramatically. His tongue poked his jaw as he looked up at me, a smile on his face. “You know you’re the only woman who has ever dared to slap me.” “Don’t try to change the subject,” I hissed. His life was in critical danger just two weeks ago yet he thought he was strong enough to go and kill his father? If his father were a random civilian and not a trained mafia boss with years of experience, I wouldn’t be so worried. “You’re not allowed to play with your life like that. Ever.”

He looked at Amelia with a cool, indifferent gaze. "So tell me, why do you want to see me?" he asked, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of authority. Amelia, with a sense of urgency and frustration, blurted out, "I want to pay you to deal with someone! Beat her up, but don't kill her!" Her words hung in the air, causing the mafia boss to pause briefly, his expression unreadable. After a moment of silence, the boss's lips curled into a smirk, and he began to laugh, the sound mocking and dismissive.

"Stop it! Ethan, you're crazy! I'm going to call the cops!" Ethan pushed me into the back seat and leaned over me. His face, usually so handsome, was then close to mine, twisted with anger and a scary, bloody smell. "Go ahead. Call the cops," he sneered. "Will they dare to lock up me, the big mafia Don, or you?" I was shaking with anger. I could not stand it any longer — I slapped him across the face. The sound of my slap rang out in the small space of the car.