The Mafia And The Nun Novels & Stories

As I move, my dress rustles softly, and my hair stays perfectly in place. "Wow, Lessia is this not too much?", I ask unsure. "No, it is perfect", Lessia said still trying to arrange the strands of hair on my head. I rolled my eyes and said, "Lessia why did you dress me like this, I look like two million threw up on me". She looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, "You look amazing and by the way you are the daughter of the Mafia boss, you need to dress the part". "Mafia?", I asked confused.

And now you dare rub it on my face? What you think of it huh? I accept my lifestyle; I proudly wear my status not like you fucking double face. You want to throw your brother into deep holes of sorrow fear and tears, to hell with you. Fuck it. Do whatever you want to get him back. But remember, I won’t help you even if you crawl back to me. Leave before I throw you out". It was the Mafia speaking. Lucas; was a whole mafia himself. He went out of his penthouse to god knows where leaving a messed up Jeffery and a silent Parker behind.

I decided to meet Nikon in the morning and see what we decided. The night was hard to pass. Since I had the phone, I had been looking up news everywhere about Nikon causing chaos. Some articles even exposed him as being connected to the Mafia. Some comments claimed they had heard he was the Mafia boss and were too scared to speak against him. Of course, he played the part of a Mafia boss, so they were afraid, but they didn’t know he never killed anyone who was innocent.

"Ms. Manuela Iriz Ibañez, do you take Mr. Uno Juaquin Urquio to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" The priest's words hung heavy, a prelude to a life irrevocably altered. Manuela, her heart a captive bird, knew this wasn't a choice, but a desperate gamble for her brother's freedom. A chilling bargain struck with the enigmatic Uno Juaquin Urquio, a mafia boss whose icy gaze held both danger and a strange, intoxicating allure.

I slammed the door in his face as I left the car, knowing that I didn't want his venomous words to poison my mood. At Starbucks, I took my time before I entered, praying that it was no-one else but Mia. For the umpteenth time as I left the Giovanni estate, I hoped that she came alone, that she hadn't been followed. She was alone. She sat in a corner, the same sunshades she had worn that morning concealing her eyes, and the scarf completely writing off the fact that she was the old woman who controlled and supervised activities in the kitchen of one of the most notorious Mafia lords in Cleveland.

Her siblings still unaware of the tidal wave about to hit them. That was before everything fell apart. The embezzlement scandal. The lawsuits. The media storm. The betrayal from people they once trusted. It all happened so fast, the Narciso name collapsing under the weight of corporate deceit and public shame. Her father’s reputation shredded, her mother trying to hold the family together with trembling hands, and her younger siblings forced to leave school. They were drowning. And no one was coming to save them. No one… except for one name: Salvador.

Novela spoke fiercely with a sharp tone. “I didn't know; I'm sorry.” Dunkin apologized, staring at me with his head lowered. I actually wasn't concerned about his apology as he wasn't worth among those who had the guts of offending me, I shook my head and asked Novela to let him off telling her he should be put to good use. Novela then assured Dunkin could be trusted when it comes to such a task; she opened up Dunkin's as the one running the underground business for the former Mafia God.

Her hand is soft like a baby's ass and smooth like it hasn't done any work at all. Gian started to pray. It was a known fact that the Italian Mafia are religious. It was ironic, given what we do for business. But it was a great facade. The public sees us going to church and kisses our feet. It gives them the idea that wealth is achieved by praying on your knees to God. It makes us a good example. Therefore, we use religion to manipulate the people, ask them who’s doing who, make them our slaves unknowingly. But I remember nonna, when she was still alive, how frequently she prayed. I told her she was a phony, because she killed for a living and prayed for forgiveness everyday. She had me thro

Indeed, from the seven names on the list, there are only three girls remained in the house. "We know because we're looking at one," Sara said while looking straight at Jilly. A story about Julliane Vantes didn't go by just like that. Her story was heard all over the mafia world. She was one to look for when they needed the first hand to hit. She was an extraordinary story in the mafia's history. Twenty-four years ago... Marcus Adalberto Jaelane was doing a rummage as per usual. He did a lot of rummage on the street that was a hot spot for transactions. He and the two other guys walked in an empty alleyway that was connecting to the place where they were heading.

He asked again yanking her in front of him harshly as she slowly looked up at him. "I wasn't.. Trying to do anything.. They weren't leaving me alone.” She tried explaining but Zeke glared at her. "These people are not normal human Danica. Everyone in here is a mafia or belongs to a mafia family. You must not mess with anyone here, do you understand me?" He looked at her furiously making her to give him a nod as he walked away with her following him behind.