Sold To The Mafia Don Novels & Stories

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.

he pleaded, shivering and still bleeding. The poor man had a family to feed, a wife and two children who were on vacation in Europe. He regretted ever turning down Logan's offer. "Too bad, I don't want your deal anymore you see, I want the whole company" Logan said, smirking. He had a way of getting whatever he wanted. He was the biggest mafia in the world.. they often referred to him as the alpha.. because he was so powerful. "Damon!" He called. Damon appeared from the front door holding some documents. He handed it to Logan.

Some florists had rejected it saying it’s my gift and that I should care for it. I know. I know. It’s all these romance shit but they don’t know the man who gifted those is dangerous. That he's a mafia... a Russian mafia at that. Of course, I can’t say these to anyone. But I was implacably determined to sell them off and give the money accrued from it to the less privileged. Yeah…it’s better that way so I won’t have any connection or what so ever with him.

“I saved myself and my family, baby, but he helped me hide the body. The world just assumed that drunken fucker had finally shambled off into obscurity, and the neighborhood breathed a sigh of relief.” He smiled, loosening his hands around her head to brush her cheek gently. “My sister and mother breathed a helluva lot easier, and life improved when I started working with Cormac.” “In the mafia.” She couldn’t hide her disdain. “Your improved life came at the expense of others.” At his careless shrug, she asked, “Did you

abuelo called out. Alvaro chuckled, shaking his head. "Fifty thousand dollars!" Someone else yelled. Abuelo narrowed his eyes at the man, sizing him up. "Puta," he muttered and Alvaro and Mateo looked at each other with matching smiles on their faces. "One hundred thousand!" "Get him, gramps," Mateo encouraged. "Sold to Mr Castillo," the lady pointed at our table and everyone clapped. "Take lots of pictures for me," he said, looking at me.

I hadn’t known I had forgotten the weight of not being alone, how easy it made breathing. Xander dropped the limp goon to the floor with a thud that made the hostages stare and some folks start shaking. He looked from the man on the floor to the leader, then over at me. “Knew you could do it,” he said, his voice even. “Guess the mafia queen isn’t gone after all.” “The mafia what?” the leader sputtered, voice thin with confusion. That was the last thing he got to say. I threw myself at him, no hesitation and planted a flying kick square into his face that wiped the word right out of his mouth. He hit the floor hard, shotgun clutched to his chest, eyes wild and bleeding.

She reached up and touched the blue diamond necklace at her throat, her voice airy. "Only someone ruthless enough can be the Don's wife." "Not some useless woman who's nothing but a pretty face." "So I just pulled a few little strings and pinned a traitor's name on her." "You all know how much the Mafia despises that. And sure enough, under pressure from the capos, she had no choice but to go." "But I'm a careful woman. To leave no loose ends, I simply sold her off." "Back then she went for a bit more than she did today."

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.

my stepmother whispered. My feet rooted to the floor. “Do you want us to die? I’m pregnant, for God’s sake. Think about the baby. All you have to do is give her to him.” My chest squeezed tight. A long silence followed before my father spoke, his voice rough. “He’s a killer. No matter what you say, I can’t sell my daughter to a mafia boss who murders people for fun.” My stomach dropped. Mafia? “No, no, don’t call it that,” my stepmother said quickly. “You’re not selling her. You’re just… letting him have her for a little while.”

“ Just for the few minutes I am away you are about to spill the beans to mum” I said, pinning Marco by his collar to the wall. “I didn’t say anything” “yeah right, one hug from mum. You are already melting” Marco frowns. “see, if you had revealed that we made a deal with the mafia. And they took Ava because of that deal. Your mum wouldn’t have three months to live. Puff! she would be dead and gone”