روايات وقصص ضمن The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think

In the underworld, power is paid for in blood and betrayal. And I was born to rule. I survived the back alleys of the Bronx. Then I was adopted by two different mafia families. The first family's fake daughter cried. She wanted my territory. I smiled. I crushed her. I took every illegal casino and smuggling route in Brooklyn. The second family's fake heir slit his wrists for pity. I yawned. I took his black Amex. And the keys to the armory. I won. Clean. Both times. I sent those two idiots to the most dangerous prison on the East Coast. At twenty, a bloody DNA report showed up. Turns out, I'm the long-lost daughter of the Callahans. The biggest Irish mob in Boston. My first day at the Callah

“It’s fine if you don’t come with me. I can handle myself.” My lips immediately turned up in a smirk when Claire roughly closed her book and stood up. She looked at me, having no other choice. I know she doesn’t want to go out. She’s still exhausted. We both are. We got so caught up with all the matters going inside the family for the past few months. Since the Elcrimo mafia empire of the Constantines is growing bigger, I am entailed with bigger issues and responsibilities, too – my essential role as the heiress. This, maybe, is just the second or third day-off we had. Claire wanted to spend her break in a quiet and comfortable place; sit, read a book, and then later on sleep. And it is way

"You came all the way here to propose a business arrangement?" Her eyebrow rose. "That's a very cold way to describe it." "It's an accurate way." She sighed. "Fine." For a moment, silence settled between us. Then she smiled again. The smile was softer this time. More calculated. "I know what people expect." I leaned against the counter. "Do you?" "Of course." She took another step forward. "I'm the daughter of a mafia boss." "And?" "And you're the heir to one of the most powerful families in the country."

There was no guile in her voice, just a straightforward declaration. “You seem very sure of that,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning against the edge of my desk. “How do you know?” Mia met my gaze without flinching. “I heard Mommy and Auntie Sarah talking about you. They said your name, and that you’re the one who owns this big company. And… I just knew.” I studied her, looking for any resemblance. She had dark hair and bright eyes, full of curiosity and something else—determination. I didn’t recognize her features, but there was something in the way she held herself, something familiar.

He said that there is more toil. "What do you need from me?" Saint promised weakly. "We want your power! Your position! And your wealth. And Deus wants to know where the hell is the mafia heiress." Mafia Heiress? Savienna is the real mafia heiress. But I am still claiming it as me because that's what they thought too. "Okay, I got what I wanted. Now I need to erase you to keep your mouth shut." Because of what Saint said, I saw a strange fear that enveloped Gayle's entire being.

If he only knew that she would drive him crazy, he would not save her anymore. "And then, the news spread that she is missing, Amara Gabriel…" he glanced at Clyde once again. "Amara is also like me, a Mafia boss and one of the heiresses of the Gabriel clan. Do you know why she suddenly remembered something when she saw the sword in the restaurant?" He asked. Now, Clyde started to think of that day.

She believes in the saying -Dictatorship is not a relationship- She returns to Milan, Italy after twenty years with a strong purpose, to take back what belongs to her from her parent's enemies. She came back as a different woman. A dictator of chaos. hiding her identity and stepping out with the name MARIA. C. DELVEY came as a German Multi-billionaire heiress with a shipbuilding conglomerate. Coming back would mean confronting her enemy's son is like starting a war; This is a mission she has to fulfill. - No Offence Declaimer. (please don't be offended by these reminders, I just have to protect my work as a writer.) •I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, in this my book, in any language or Dialect.

“No, she was the goods being auctioned.” My eyes widened, and I clamped my lips shut. I had heard of these type of auctions, but had never attended one. “She was Italian. Mostly Italian, and her father had been the Don of his mafia. My father, wanting to bridge the cultural divide had gotten her at the auction. Sixty million dollars. It was a lot of money then” “It is a lot of money now.” “Yes, but the difference is there. He did get his money back. Seven sons. Too bad the eighth didn't survive.” He replied,

"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.

I was smiling when I left Azrael’s building. Even after all that — the unsettling opulence, his cryptic smirk, and the way his words coiled around me like chains made of silk — I was smiling. Because I had done it. I had the money. I could finally pay Heather back. I could finally unshackle Theo from her control. Even if I have sold my soul to the devil, it was all worth it if it would mean that I would help Theo.