Novel & Cerita Sold To The Heartless Mafia

Damien had made sure of that. The betrayal sat heavily in everyone's chest. Eight years. Eight years beside Dante. Eight years earning trust. Only to destroy it in a single night. Marco finally broke the silence. "So let me get this straight." Nobody answered. He continued anyway. "We have an international criminal organization." A finger went up. "The Circle." A second finger. "A possibly alive mafia king." Third finger. "Dante's father." Fourth finger. "A traitor who vanished." Fifth finger. "And enough blackmail material to destroy governments."

she tutted. “Anyway. You weren't giving me the information I wanted, so I suggested the therapist thing. It wasn't at all difficult to rent a space, place a few members of the mafia here and there, upload some backdated pictures to the internet because I knew your sweet husband would check us out and bingo, sold. It was during the therapy I realized you actually didn't know anything about the mafia,” she laughed hard, throwing her head back.

When on earth did, I become such an asset, that I would be sold off to the league of old gamblers and Italian mafias who had gathered in the hall, that celebrate the new age of my father who was heavily in debt. Gosh! I had my eyes on the doors. I wished the light would go off, and if ever it would be that gracious, I would flee from the hall, and from the city, to wherever I was sure my father and his mafia cartel would never find me. “Fifty-five and half!” Is that my worth? This was a big-time trafficking here. Maybe we were probably back to the nineteenth century, where such trade was a common game. Maybe we were back in the days of Habbakuk and his harlot wife whom he bought with money w

"Um Edward... I will save up and pay you later." “No…No.” Edward came and touched her cheek. "I won't expect payment in exchange for all I give you." Calista was unable to move, but she knew deep down that she would pay for it. She felt terrible about it. However, she was aware that Nicolas would not be comfortable with such a system between the two of them. After their conversation, Calista returned to the apartment. At that time, she felt a mixture of joy and sadness. She wants to be with Nicolas again, but she doesn't want to leave Edward because of his kindness to her.

Though I had always known my father was in charge of selling me to Enzo, seeing the evidence—the cold, calculating trade in black and white—made it real in a way I had not anticipated. This went beyond a family dispute. This was more than a Mafia deal. For my life, it was this. My emancipation. I gazed at the paper, my eyesight distorted with unshed tears. In what ways may my own father treat me? How could he turn me into just another negotiating chip? I heard footsteps getting closer before I could really feel the weight of the betrayal. As I hurriedly pushed the papers back in place and rose up, away from the desk just as the door creaked open, panic shot through me.

That name is illegal. She hadn’t even read the fine print. Too desperate to get her daughter cured. That’s how I learned to do business in the mafia world. I could slip anything in now. Anything. And she would be too late to object. Oh, Adriana... you’ll be mine in every way that matters. I let the contract drop back onto the desk and flexed my aching anx bloodied hand. Even through the haze of pain, the memory slithered back into my mind like a serpent…

His eyes darted from me to his daughter, who stood right in front of him, now speechless. My disgust was not only for him. It was for what he had done to his daughter that he had sold her like a ledger entry, like a problem to be balanced, such a selfish man. The thought of that, the thought of a father who traded his child to pay for his sins, it was sharper than any blade. It was petty and cowardly. “Mafia collects what is owed,” I said. “If one of ours is taken, we collect in full. The rules are simple. Blood for blood. Debt for debt. You chose your path years ago, Damon. You must live with what you planted.”

“You’re property now — of the Bratva.” Panic surged in her chest. “The Bratva?” “Russian mafia, Printsessa. You’ve been sold to the Bratva as a slave.” Her mind reeled. She thought of Zach, his warm embrace this morning, the way he kissed her forehead before leaving for office. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. “Who sold me to the Russian Mafia?” She asked curiously. The driver shrugged. “I don't know. I'm just a driver.”

The first thing I noticed her innocence. These auctions were for prostitutes and low-life's who had been picked off the streets. This girl was so goddamn different. When they said she was a virgin, and so fucking young I don't know why the fuck my interest peaked. And I had spent a million of the mafia's..my mafia's money on her. I hope she was fucking worth it. She was taking too fucking long. “I hate waiting for people to miss Johnson!” I said to her as we left her room.

Elise said to herself, and the fear that gathered around her face was swiftly eliminated, considering the fact that it might not be always as easy as planned. She knew she had to walk out of this toxic atmosphere, but then, whenever she thinks of wanting to be independent, the fear that gathered through her body as to where she would go to from there might be difficult to reach for her. Not now though because she has her full freedom, and the choice to do whatever she wants now at this point. At twenty-five, Ethan Dilan Easton is the mafia of his city. Leaving and working for the Don is not an easy job but the opportunity that comes along with it is as beneficial to themselves.