Taken By The Mafia King Mga Nobela at Kwento

Zuri blows a strand of straight hair out of her eyes. “I’m getting to that. You see, your parents were part of a mafia gang called “Marie.” It’s the biggest mafia syndicate in New York and it’s headed by a man named King Murder. I don’t know why Amanda was sold, but I believe Bhyron will tell you all of that himself.” Silence. “But I can tell you this; King Murder was responsible for the attack at your wedding. His men killed grandma Alice...” Pain shoots through my veins like bolts of electricity. The tears I was struggling to hold back cascade down my cheeks in torrents.

Then I said, “Tell them to stay back.” “I… Argh!” “If you say something stupid, I will carve out that small dick of yours from your face.” “Uh… uh…” He began to panic and his hands showed his nervousness. “Stay back, stay back.” “Good boy. You should know your place.” His neck was still relying on the head of the chair and snapping it to its position was something I planned to do if he gave me correct information. “So…” I towered above him and showed him why I was the King of the Mafia even without the throne. “... who gave you false hope that you would be able to conquer me? And you had better answer right. Two seconds is enough for me to take your life.”

“There will be no more chaos outside these gates.” He turned slowly, letting his gaze fall across the men and women gathered. "The act of attacking the Mafia Queen is heinous, especially given her situation. She is not only the wife of Nikolai Moretti, our previous Mafia king, but she is also carrying the heir of this gang. And that is not a matter of debate,” he said, sharply. “But if you seek answers, if your faith in leadership trembles… then come inside. Let us discuss this with dignity, like the rulers we are supposed to be.”

The club was only dimly lit, the air thick with the reek of alcohol and despair. It was the kind where handshakes sealed deals and were broken by gunfire. I sat in the quiet booth, whiskey in front of me, back to the wall. I waited. For her. Fiorella D'Angelo. The so-called queen of her father's empire. I'd spent the day wondering whether she'd be even remotely the woman people described. The mafia had a reputation for exaggeration, making men monsters, women mythical legends that people couldn't even touch. Most of the time, that's just what they were, exaggerated tales.

“Please. Send them back tonight and then stay out of my way and I'd stay out of yours. We’ll give you what you want, the lions heart, everything. But send your men back tonight.” He watched me for a long moment, that mafia king mask firmly in place. Then he reached for his phone. I stood there while he made the call, one clipped sentence. His man answered immediately. When he hung up, he looked at me again. “They’re moving back to the front of the property.” I nodded once. “Thank you.”

I shouted, my voice echoing through the dining room. “You’re Capo dei Capi. That means you’ve always got a target on your back. Allies matter. I’ve been having meetings to help you! Dammit!” My blood turned to fire. “Listen well, because I won’t say it again,” I growled, venom in my tone. “I am your fucking King. If I don’t assign something, you don’t fucking do it. The next time you meet anyone behind my back, I’ll consider it a breach of Omertà and won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head.”

“That body is made for fucking…” I whirled on him. My eyes flashing. “Don’t even think it.” With a growl I turned back to watching the girl. She was beautiful he was right about that. All long blonde hair and wide eyes that peeked out from beneath the curtain of her golden hair and her curves were mouth wateringly womanly, but she looked so normal. She didn’t look like the daughter of a mob boss. Looking at her you would never know that she had been born Mafia Royalty. A pampered little princess who lived a life of luxury at the pain and expense of others.

I replied lazily, enjoying the way her jaw clenched as she fought to keep her composure in case the detective was still watching. God, she was terrible at this. Terrible—and absolutely fascinating. But I guess she couldn't take it anymore. She leaned forward, her fake smile frozen in place, but her whisper was sharp as a blade. “You know, every gentleman,” she hissed through her teeth, “always lets the woman go first.” I tilted my head, lips curving. “Good thing I’m not a gentleman then.” Her eyes widened a fraction. “What?” I leaned closer, my voice low enough to make her shoulders stiffen. “I’m Mafia, piccola. We don’t play by those rules.”

Hands shot up around the table at once, unanimous, every face lit with eager smiles. I smirked, taking my time as I stepped forward and lowered myself into the head chair, the throne that had always been mine. Gia was still at my side. She looked uncertain, confusion written all over her face, but when I extended my hand, she placed hers in mine. I guided her down and helped her into the seat beside me, her presence a constant display of power. Luto’s voice thundered through the chamber. “All hail our new Mafia King… Don Dante De Luca!”

Sam has been keeping me posted with his progress with everything which I was glad was going smoothly. I took one step forward and heard a screeching sound behind me. I spun around to find King’s car returning with a speed not conducive for the little space left around here. I frowned, as it stopped before me. King stepped out of the car in seconds before matching over with a scrawl on his face. “You lied to me,” he said. He looked red in the face, clearly upset by something. “What are you talking about?” I asked. He stepped closer but I stepped back. His countenance sent my hairs spiking and I wasn’t sure what could make him so upset. I was quickly reminded that this man was in the mafia.