The Mafia Heir Novels & Stories

he softly explains. "Dangerous world?" her brows furrowed. "Mafia" he briefly replies while staring straight into her eyes. Gauging her judgment. "As among the successors, the Godfather has forbidden them to father a bastard" he seriously added. And what he was saying has made Arah thoughtful. "Your mom is an heir of a Mafia family, right?" she whispers after a while, which surprised him. "She mentioned it to you?" narrowing his eyes, he suspiciously asks.

Babysitting the Mafia’s Heir . Chapter 5: meeting the Mafia’s Heir . Joaquin fixes Jesse with a narrowed look, mocking a silent laugh before shaking his head. "No, c'mon. It's fine. It'll be fine. He loves me enough that he won't kill me." Jesse hums, patting Joaquin’s arm as he passes him around the hood of the car, climbing the steps to stand in front of large, grey double doors. "After you," he insists and doesn't miss the eye roll he gets as Joaquin lets himself in.

We won. We entered a smoked glass door on this tall building 3 days after the conquest. Wearing a corporate suit, we'll meet the 'bosses' for formalities regarding our training as one of their mafia teams. Heading to the front to bow, I raised my head, and I saw Theon in the middle. I didn't show my shock, the two gasps. I knew someone's up with him. He's the 'Mafia Chairman' according to the pin on his coat. The meeting have this cold air, we remained stoic.

Marco said, hesitant. Thinking about my father, I realised he was the only obstacle between me and the inheritance of the mafia family clan. Even if my father and I were involved in taking Stephanie down, he, as my father and the eldest, would be the one to take over the mafia clan once my grandfather stepped down. But I didn't want that. I've always wanted to be the head of our mafia family clan, and right now I am willing to do anything to have it all to myself, even if it means killing my own father.

the man whispers urgently, "Rick hasn't been seen since the job. He was supposed to make the trade with the organization, but he never showed up with the hundreds of millions. What's going to happen?" Alonzo's brow furrows, his expression darkening. He ponders the revelation for a moment, and then his gaze turns to me, still obscured by the mask. Panic surges through me afresh. The man continues, "They mentioned he had a daughter, betrothed to you, ages ago. Her name is Julia Rocco." A shiver down my spine at the mention of my name. Betrothed? How? I watch as Alonzo's eyes narrow in thought, and then he chuckles, a sinister sound that sends chills down my spine.

As he scratched his head, Vincent remembered another term and condition he should remember: only descendants or blood-related family members could inherit the mafia’s legacy. Subconsciously, Vincent nodded his head and made Cedric feel more proud of his deception. The youngest uncle had fallen into his trap, he thought. All he needed to do now was just push him slightly into agreeing to team up with him. The mafia’s heir persuaded, “If I'm being honest, Uncle, I'd rather be willing to let my father's mafia reign be passed on by you than Uncle Miller. Join me, and you'll have everything my father owns." ‌

“If he doesn’t want me, then anyone who does want me… won’t have me either.” There’s a pause. Then Stephanie exhales slowly. “Damn… that’s… kind of sad,” she says. “I’m not sad,” I snap quickly. She raises her hands slightly in surrender. “Okay, okay.” But then….her eyes light up again. “Still…” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice like she’s about to share a secret, “he said he’s from a Mafia family.” I stiffen slightly. “And?” I say carefully. “And he’s the heir,” she adds, her voice practically glowing with excitement. “Marcella, do you understand what that means?”

She didn’t believe in nerves. Not when you were raised to be a queen. She didn’t knock. She wanted to catch him as he was. The door creaked open. There he sat, Alessio De Luca, heir to the most powerful mafia family in the region, perched at the edge of the leather armchair, a tumbler of scotch in one hand, his gaze distant. The fireplace threw flickers of light across his face, catching the sharp lines of his jaw, the tired set of his mouth.

I'm going to break up with that peasant and throw myself into Galvan's arms. How interesting. She could not recognize a pearl in a haystack. If she knew Reuben was the heir to a mafia family, I wondered what her expression would be. 'He wouldn't dare to resist anyway. What can a lowly driver do?' Tracy pondered as she finally made up her mind.

"So this is transactional." "Everything is transactional, Miss Harrington." He pulled out his phone, typed something, then pocketed it again. "My offer: You come with me. You tell me everything you know about Julian's deal. In exchange, I keep you alive and help you take back what's yours." "And if I refuse?" "Then I leave you here with your principles and two corpses." His expression didn't change. "Your choice. But my car leaves in thirty seconds." Tia looked at the wreckage of her Aston Martin, at the bodies of men sent to kill her, at the ruins of her white engagement dress. Behind her was a fiancé who'd planned to rob and murder her. Ahead was a mafia king offering a devil's bargain.