The Mafia's Obsession Novels & Stories

Leaving me and Lucio standing on the patio laughing at the pair, I mean it had been so hard and dangerous over these past few years, but in the end, it was worth all of that to be The Mafia Boss’s Deepest Obsession. ~~The End~~

Alexander pov Drugs, weapons, and death. Those were the three words that defined the mafia. When I was younger, father would always sit me down and remind me that nothing was more important than staying on top. "Emotions are a weakness, Alexander. Something the likes of us cannot afford. They’re a distraction—nothing more than a fleeting delusion meant for humans. But you are not human. You are a monster, a creature of the darkness, and that is what you must be to everyone… even your family, even your child. Because your own blood might be the first to stab you in the back."

As he finally lowered down, his cock slipping easily inside, I couldn't help but moan. All the reasons I wanted to destroy him seemed to fade away as he pumped in a slow and easy rhythm. I wrapped my feet together, moving with him as his cock filled me, spreading me wide open. The way he was staring at me, his expression one of absolute domination evoked so many deep-seated emotions, sending a series of chills down my spine. I knew he was cold-hearted, that I meant nothing to him. This was the way of mafia men, no matter the circumstances or the country. Women were merely precious objects.

It feels like I’m losing my mind inch by inch, like the absence of her is its own kind of madness clawing at my skull. Sometimes I wonder what kind of disease or spell Anya Sokolova has cast over me. Because this obsession didn’t start slow it hit me like a bullet to the chest. One encounter during Roman’s wedding wedding, just one look into those soft, startled eyes, and I was a goner. A seasoned mafia man undone in a single breath by a woman who doesn’t even know the damage she’s causing. And God help me…I still can’t get enough.

He loved the spotlight and was almost always standing in a spot where he could be seen. It wasn’t the usual way of the mafias who had something to lose, his lifestyle was loud, but he was here to make noise and a few local heads were listening. He wasn’t a threat- at least not to Zaverio but he was keeping an eye on the model like wonder. I didn’t know who would fund someone like Kale, but walking gray lines meant you always had a target on your back, and try as he may to remain out of the camera’s lens. Zaverio was a man a few people wouldn’t mind taking down.

He asked her. “I want to know. I rather know the truth now than to remain in the dark, blind to the world around me.” She replied. “Fine, I will tell you the truth but no matter what you know, I will not let you go no matter how you beg me to. So you better be prepared enough to handle it.” He took a deep breath before telling her. “I am actually a mafia leader. The group is called The Osborne. It was founded by my grandfather and expanded by my father, after my father passed away, I took over his position as the leader.” He responded.

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

Then it slammed back into me— I was kidnapped. And I probably belonged to a mafia boss now. I looked down at myself. Underwear. Not surprising. I turned, and there he was. The man. The mafia leader. Seated in a chair, casually flipping through an actual newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. The demon reads newspapers. “Name?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Adrian.” “Age?” “Thirty-six.” I gasped. He looked younger than I expected. And that body—

Dominic’s POV The underground club was alive with shadowsand smoke. Bass thumped through the walls, aheartbeat beneath the city, where men like methrived. Deals were made here. Fortunes sealedin blood and silence. I stood at the back of a private booth, fingerswrapped around a glass of whiskey, watchingthe men at the table. Three of them. Russian.Old money. Arrogant bastards. They thoughtthey could sit in my city and negotiate terms. I let them talk—for now.

Vasili joked. Serene narrowed her gaze and glanced at Dante with curiosity. He looked relaxed, nothing like a man who was targeted by the most powerful mafia bosses in the world. "Dante? What did you do?" she asked with confusion. "He made sure that there is no panel to target us anymore. The panel and its members are neck deep in shit. Its impossible for those oldies to get out of that shit before they die. Who knows, they might die because of their 'issues'" Wesley shared with mirth.