Novel & Cerita The Mafia King's Temptation

I replied sarcastically. She stared at me seriously, that's when I realized that I may have done something serious. Is he really a Mafia? Does this mean I'll die? "He is the west mafia leader. The biggest gangs and groups are under him. His father is the leader but Chase is running it now until he fully gets crowned as the Mafia king. The president you are talking about can't dare this group. You don't understand the gravity of what you have done!" She fully explained. I don't understand. Are we in some sort of mafia romance movie or what? A Mafia? That guy? He looks so ordinary...

' She chuckled as she placed the ball of her left foot on the doorframe, stirring her juice with the pattern straw and not sparing me a glance, a lazy smirk on her face. 'And what makes you think it is temporary? Have you ever asked yourself if it ends up not being temporary? You don't seem to see what others see but it's alright. I just thought I should remind you that you are the Mafia king, Ame Greg Allen to everyone else, the heartless man who rules them much more brutally than his father. You don't need love, any form of weakness via emotions because it will be your doom. You don't need a weak link, a soft spot and she will be that edible spot. Viona might be clever, fucking dope smart,

But perhaps the daring mafia king was in a mood to take any kind of risk to have her in the vehicle, before they could reach the airport to board for San Francisco. With his final statement of 'shaking his head' the mafia king thrust his lips onto hers sensing that the lady gulped hardly. His mischievous hand travelled inside her dress and pores caressed the trail of backbone as Aysel Saat arched her back and moaned into his mouth. "Fuck you, you pervert!" She yelled in his mouth while somehow after a few seconds Aysel found herself giving in to the temptation that her hands moved at the back of his head.

The night stretched across the city like a thick velvet curtain, hiding sins that thrived under its cover. In the heart of the metropolis, a fortress disguised as a penthouse towered above glittering skylines. Behind tinted glass, Damon sat in silence, a glass of brandy in his hand. The world called him many names—ghost, shadow, devil. But tonight, he wanted only one name to remain etched across every border, whispered in every back alley, spoken in hushed tones inside every boardroom: Damon, the Mafia King.

“Now, tell me. What’s this… Mafia King about?” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, “You could just read the book yourself.” I glared. “I could,” he agreed, flipping the book over. “But this is more fun.” I sighed. “It’s about a girl who gets caught in the web of the Mafia world by a Mafia Boss. He’s cold, dangerous, and wouldn't mind to kill whoever crossed his way. But of course, deep down, he has a heart.” Damien arched a brow. “Sounds familiar.”

Lucas fell silent, deeply contemplating the weight of his next move. "Please come back, Mafia King!”

Lia's hands wouldn't stop shaking on the steering wheel. She'd just slept with a mafia boss. A fucking mafia boss. Not some professional escort who'd disappear from her life after one night. Not some safe, anonymous transaction. No. She'd walked into the wrong room and ended up in bed with Caspian Nero. A man who ran the criminal underworld of Silvercrest. What the hell had she done? The early morning streets were empty as she drove home. Saturday dawn, the city still sleeping off Friday night. Lia felt like she was moving through a dream. Or a nightmare. She couldn't tell which. Her body ached in places that reminded her exactly what had happened.

He wasn’t getting out of here alive and it was a fact he had known the instant Leonardo’s men had hauled him into the sub from the busy suburbs of New York. How he had been found was beyond him, but he must have been a fool to even imagine that he could get away from the D’Angelo clan and that too from Draco himself. Leonardo Draconis D’Angelo was called the Mafia King for a reason. He was known to kill first and ask questions of the dead body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I’m talking about Diablo Romano, king of the Italian mafia. Who knows what his real name even is? He’s probably changed it so many times he’s forgotten. That’s the kind of man he is. He switches names, faces, wives, and lives. You think the Godfather was bad? This guy makes him look like a saint.” “You’re lying,” I say, but my voice sounds smaller than I want it to.

It was too quiet for my liking. Sol would definitely prefer it this way. That’s why my babbo wanted him to lead the family. Babbo was named the Mafia King. Sol took over when he died and now… there’s me. A woman who is leading one of the world’s biggest mafia. After making people know that the king was actually a queen, I thought for sure someone would dare come after me. Perhaps I have instilled fear too much after wiping out those scums. “What’s with that sigh, Cara?”