Sold To Mafia Boss Novels & Stories

Some weeks later Angelo’s POV “Boss we have to evacuate the building” Enzo called out to me, helping me walk out of the warehouse that had just been blasted by a mini bomb and most of my men killed after being shot at. In my kind of business, getting attacked and almost killed is a thing of normalcy unless you have no foes, which is nearly impossible. Coming here, I hoped to close a long time business deal with one of my foreign distributors but it seems like we were given the wrong information concerning the location or the foreign distributor just want to have us killed.

Then just like he grabbed me, he pushed me back like I was a disease. I finally breathed out. That meant it was a no for me. He started to move, then stopped abruptly. “I choose her,” he said in a chill tone, and left. Who? It couldn't possibly be me. He recoiled when he touched me. But the faces suddenly turned toward me in pity, and that was confirmation. It was me. I just got sold to Rai Mikailov. Mafia leader of the Podolskaya gang. Hands pulled me as the seller uncuffed me, removing my tag. “You have a hard life ahead of you, little rat,” he spat, his breath reeking.

I learn he is patient, cares deeply for his brothers, mother and even his employees. Milos doesn’t want to talk about his business. I press him and he gives in, in exchange for me eating all my vegetables, no argument for the week. He’s the source of cocaine to the Outfit and Irish mafia—selling only to other heads of mafia in Chicago. Purchasing it from the Rodriguez cartel in Columbia. He stopped street-level dealing when he took over, as risk outweighed reward.

He glanced at Alejandro for confirmation. Alejandro’s cold glare met him. He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly how this would play out. Brian was as cunning as his father, too sly to be tricked easily. “Open them,” Alejandro ordered. His men obeyed, flipping the cases open. Brian’s face lit with twisted delight at the sight of the cash. He nodded approvingly, his grin demonic, his fingers grazing the bills as if caressing the body of a woman. The Mafia boss scoffed. “I’ve fulfilled your demand. Now tell me where my mia bella is. Then you may leave freely.” His words carried no warmth, but they were deadly serious. Everyone listening knew it.

“Who is Victor to you?” Roberto froze. Bianca held up her phone. “Someone sent me this message. What did you give him?” Roberto slowly put down the bottle. “Where did you get that?” “That's not the question.” He stared at her for several seconds before speaking. “I gave him information about Alessandro's business operations.” Bianca's mouth fell open. “You betrayed the Morettis?” “I was paid for information. I didn't know things would become this complicated.” “And what does Isabella have to do with it?”

I grew up as a sex slave in the yard of Don Clinton, the ruthless Italian Mafia boss. Sold to him at eighteen, I was now twenty-four — broken in, addicted, and utterly used to the brutal rhythm of his fat cock. Life had narrowed to one simple truth: I was nothing but a cum dump.

"Bianca Whitmore. The singular cub your ledger priced at five million credits." With a slow, dramatic sigh, the mafia boss reaches over to rip the thick burlap sack off my head, holding my shaking torso tightly against his chest armor. Overwhelmed by the sheer wave of primitive fear, my joints stay completely frozen like ice. Hot tears have entirely ruined my face, and my hair is a total, messy disaster.

“But why does it look like this? You squeezed it, right?” He heaved a sigh and bounced his head. “I got annoying news, and I took it up on the bottle,” he told her. “Annoying news? What is the news about?” She asked, and he shook his head. “You don’t have to worry.” He stood walked to the other side of the bed. “You don’t want to tell me about your mafia operations, yeah? Understandable,” Martina uttered and drank some water from the glass, she exhaled in relief after drinking. He looked at her and sat on the bed. “Well, my house at Southampton was raided by the FBI, and they destroyed some things.”

"Please, take a seat." They all took a glance around the armed men before they shuffled to get settled. "Where is he?" "H-he was bringing his daughter..." One of the men stammered uneasily as Marco blood rushed through his ears, knowing why given that it was clear knowledge that the children of a mafia boss would not partake in any business ventures until they were to take over. "Bringing his daughter for what purposes?" His boss inquired, wanting to know if these men knew the purpose. "He-he is sell-selling her for-for a healthy price."

He planned to live a low life in the city of Thornhill but the government knew his secrets, most especially the mayor of the city. They had shreds of evidence that linked him to major crimes that were carried out in America a year back. And that was true, he had travelled to America a certain time to eliminate three mafia soldiers who trespassed the 'Finest White' territory to advertise nose candy. A life sentence was sure if charges were pressed but the government made a deal with him. The underboss of a powerful mafia group in Italy was too valuable to be sent to prison when he could be a weapon to do their dirty jobs.