The Divorced Billionaire Mafia Queen Novels & Stories

I'm thinking the last one was pretty spot on. " I mean- He's just Killian Russel.. a ruthless billionaire who does whatever he wants " He nodded his head. " Interesting.... " He said and I stood up. Walking away from him I silently went into a room which was just Madam A and Delilah. Madam A didn't notice me a since she was turned and Delilah didn't either. She banged her stick. " Again " Delilah prepped herself before she turned swinging her back leg up but failing to hold it.

"You wanted my head? It’s yours. But you can't touch a woman who isn't part of this world." ​I felt the world tilt. He hadn't divorced me because he stopped loving me. He had signed those papers days ago because he knew this war was coming. He had turned me into a stranger to the Mafia so that when the world burned, I wouldn't be standing in the flames with him. ​"You bastard," I whispered, the tears finally overflowing. "You don't get to decide this alone." ​But he didn't look at me. He kept his gaze on the old man. "Take me and let her go. That was the law you wrote, right? Are you a man of your word, or just another butcher?"

The room became silent again as they watched in suspense. “It's one thing to build but it's another to have your people by your side. You are an Omega! A rat!” “The document on your table is our divorce papers. Sign it and have it sent to the Salvatore's mansion in Echo City,” “Salvatore? As in Vican Salvatore? The billionaire?” Macai inquired. “You think being a whore for an old billionaire will save you? You can't fuck your way out of this,” “Not everyone is a bitch like your family, Macai. We don't screw old women to achieve fame, we earn it,” I replied calmly.

"What's going on here?" she asked in perfect Italian, her tone brooking no argument. The officer snapped to attention. "Racheal, this man is demanding to see a prisoner, Abigail Johnson." The woman turned to me, and I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. It was none other than Racheal Williams. My ex-wife. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since the divorce. My mouth and eyes couldn’t help but open widely. She was looking more powerful and confident than I ever remembered.

“No offense, not like I don’t love you, I always do, but taking care of you wouldn’t stop me from being a working mother, soon, he joined the double axe mob through debt and he forced me into it because they wanted a practitioner, and I was good, so that’s how we started earning again, and of course, you already know we have a family bank account and I’ve not gotten one for myself, your father handles that account, were I obviously take the shorter end of the stick, around when you were twelve, it just clicked of how much of a fool I was, being used by a man because of love? Family” “And don’t even get me started, there’s the new sex styles every week that he brings without my consent– yes h

She says with the quirk of her perfectly arched brow. She takes a step towards me. I take one back. “I-I’ll clean this up!” I stutter out just as my back collides with the wall and she steps towards me again with a grin that holds a promise of pain and suffering. “Meera Florence.” She chimes, “the heiress to the biggest mafia empire in the entirety of Europe. Now pushed down to rags.” She says looking me up and down and giving me a feigned look of pity. “Who would have thought?” She wonders out loud, looking up at the intricately carved ceiling for a moment.

"Oh, do not give me that bullsh*t, you know who I mean" "I am afraid, I do not," Carmencita answered and looked around. "As you know, there are plenty of girls around here..." "The girl... The blonde-haired married to my son!" "Oh...!" Carmencita voiced and smiled. "The Mafia Queen." "She is no Queen!" Munika replied derogatorily and fisted her hands which were on top of the table. "Now spit it out. What have you been feeding her?" "Delicious food, healthy fruits and vegetables, vitamins for a strong and healthy womb, of course"

he asked astonished, his lips trembling in shock at my unexpected response. “You want to tell him, right? Go ahead and do so. You think I would get on my knees and beg you not to?” I chuckled, my eyes tilting with anger. “Hell no!! Have you forgotten who I am? I am the Mafia Queen!! One who makes men tremble!!” I took another bold step forward, my arms wrapped around my chest. “I was born in blood, Lorenzo. I was raised by a tyrant, and I have taken down men who were more powerful than you”.

The name sounded sweet but echoed a familiarity in my ears, one that couldn't be denied. I searched my memories, trying to remember where I had heard that name. No matter how faint it seemed, I was sure Liam had once mentioned that name to me. "I'm Ryan Devante" He added, and just then, everything conflicted. The memories collided, shaping in form for a detailed remembrance and the realization hit me. Ryan Devante? The heir of the Devante group? The richest businessman in New York. The Ex-Italian Mafia Lord, fierce and feared by all.

Sofia leaned into him, a triumphant smirk on her face. "The Brooklyn docks, the Queens casinos—all the territory I built with my own two hands—are now Rossi territory. You can keep your art galleries and your charity balls." He looked at me like he was doing me a favor. "Sign the papers, and I'll forget about this little scene you made. We go our separate ways." "Go our separate ways?" I repeated his words, then I started to laugh. The sound echoed in the huge, silent church. It was sharp. Ugly.