The Mafia's Broker Novels & Stories

One of them moved so fast I barely saw it. His elbow connected with the other guard's temple. The man dropped like a stone, with the torch rolling away, casting wild shadows across the grass. I stared open-mouthed, unable to process what just happened. The remaining figure stepped closer. He had dirty blond hair, caramel-colored eyes, and a charming smile I recognized immediately. Marco Capone. Luca's underboss. The man who was supposed to be his most loyal soldier. “Go,” he said quietly. “I'll handle this.”

He broke out into sobs after a few fleeting seconds and I let out a chuckle that didn’t sound funny in any way, instead, it only made Romeo sob harder. “Why?” I asked after that. Romeo was someone who had been working alongside me for decades, he was the least person I’d ever expect to betray me. This is exactly why it’s never advised to trust people here in the mafia. After I had returned back from New York with Sofia, I had begun to look into the blown off condo and who could be behind it. It took a whole lot of digging before every tail and bits of information I could buy and force out of people, led me to one of my underbosses and one who was part of the generals of the mafia.

bragged the dealership owner. It was, indeed, a highly-prized deal. The dealership owner had, of course, formed a very favourable idea of the young man, Broderick; to get rid of them and such a deadly mission was an irresistible proof of his loyalty to the mafia lord of Los Bahamas. After all was said and arranged between them that evening, there was no doubt he would like to pay a surprise visit tonight. Apparently, it was nearly at the dead of night when Mr Murphy soon became obsessed with his son Broderick, sudden disappearance which was already weeks ago. After intimating Natasha about the circumstances and promised to reward her awesomely when he returns from his adventure in Herbiscus.

“Good. End the call. I will give the next instructions tomorrow. No mistakes.” Marco was a trusted member of our gang, acting as a middleman. Operating in the shadows, I could not risk exposing myself or the gang while dealing with brokers and sensitive information. Marco had handled all communications, payments, and transactions, keeping everything untraceable. I was looking for a powerful mafia king to ally with my gang for our latest operations. I had ordered one of my assistants to find him, while Marco had handled everything behind the scenes, hidden and discreet. I snapped the laptop lid shut and rose from the couch, movements tense, as though the call had unsettled me. That familiar,

I know we all want to know what happened next on Lidia and Bruno’s part but why don’t you grab a box of popcorn and let journey together into the mafia world part. Thank you for reading, you all mean a lot to me. And let me quickly remind us of their names again: Bruno the ice king Lorenzo the tall man Matador the blacksmith Alarico the balancer accountant Gennado the old wolf Salvatore the ghost money laundering Gravino the cleaner

Like he hadn’t just shot someone in the middle of a mafia summit. He was everything my father warned me about—and everything I’d ever dreamed of. The meeting was between the three most powerful mafia families in Italy: the Leoni, the Campania, and the Mia. It was the first time in years they had all sat together in the same room. The police were closing in, getting smarter, bolder. Some idiot detective had gotten lucky and connected the dots, and now there were whispers of a joint investigation. Everyone was scared. But not Alexandro.

“We don’t know his real name. We call him The Broker. Always deals through intermediaries. High-end fixer. Works for anyone who pays enough.” Camilla exchanged a sharp glance with Riccardo. The Broker. She had heard whispers of him—an elusive figure who arranged hits, kidnappings, blackmail, and worse. No loyalty. No morality. Only the highest bidder. “How do we find him?” Camilla asked, pressing the blade a little closer to the man’s throat. He whimpered. “He leaves messages. Drops. Dead letter boxes. We got the last one near the old piers. Warehouse Twelve.” Riccardo straightened, signaling Marco to take them away.

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

"Find your thief. Whatever you need. Just... keep Mason safe." He writes: Deal. Then adds: Welcome to my world, Iris. I promise I'll keep you both alive. I hope he's telling the truth. Because I just made a deal with someone who might be more dangerous than the people hunting me. But what choice do I have? We arrive at the penthouse around midnight. I received a message from Dante's men that my brother was safe. They sent me footage evidence. Said that the incident had been contained. When I asked how, Dante asked if I really want to know.

The mafia side built empires on the things those systems couldn't see. By 7:45 I was in the Maybach again, heading to the Bronx warehouse. Marco drove silent. I scrolled messages ,rival moves in Queens, a shipment delay in Jersey, a name I hadn't heard in years Enzo Bianchi surfacing in whispers.I closed the tablet. Some ghosts you didn't chase. You waited for them to come to you.Warehouse district smelled of rust and salt water. Luca waited outside the loading dock, cigarette between his fingers."Boss," he said, falling in step. "Everything's accounted for. No leaks.""Good."Inside crates stacked high, men in black jackets unloading discreetly. I walked the rows, checking seals. One crate h