The Mafia's Princess Novels & Stories

--Cassie-- The letter in my trembling hands brought me to tears. I sobbed so hard that my chest ached, and my breaths came in short, sharp gasps. I needed to get out of here, away from the suffocating truth it confirmed. That single piece of paper held the key to everything I had been dreading, everything I had been denying. It was the proof that I, Cassie, was indeed the Mafia princess of the American Mafia. The contents of the letter were brief, cold, and calculated. No fluff, no emotion, just commands.

"According to our investigation, you've spent years haunting casinos while the woman you call the mafia Principessa worked 20-hour days to fund your lifestyle. "If she's really a mafia princess, why would she slave away for you? Out of love? "Besides, you're the one who recently announced yourself as the mafia heir and brought this woman to the auction. We have multiple witnesses." Marco immediately shouted, "No, that was fake! I was just a decoy!" Another officer emerged from inside, calling to the lead. "Found it. There's a massive amount of cash in there." The lead officer glanced at Marco. "Large sums of unexplained cash, hm?"

The Monticello Arrangement PART 1 Intro; Isotta Monticello is Italy’s quietly dangerous mafia princess not born to gowns and gilded halls alone, but to an empire stitched together from ports, secrets, and old debts paid in blood. She walks the world smiling, bilingual and immaculate, but beneath the silk and diamonds are the iron teeth of a woman raised to survive in a world that devours the soft.

“That just does not make any sense! She’s probably just lying about it. She usually lies.” Stella scoffs as I take her hand in my own and pull her away from the men. The two men take a step after us but Stella waves them away. The way they obey her command only has me more confused. Could Stella truly be the mafia princess? Has she held this power all along and just didn’t say a single thing about it? Why would a mafia princess, someone who holds so much power in the criminal underworld, allow a man such as myself to treat her so horribly? To treat her like the scum on the bottom of my shoe?

"I think they've started to drift apart and I'm not wasting any more time. I'm creating a ground for attachment with Aldric already.” “That's positive but do you know that the Mafia princess is after him too?" I asked, wanting to spoil her mood. "I don't care. I've always been clear about wanting his money. She can have him if she wants. I just want to get my hands on those dollars,” she said and I could already imagine the look on her face. “Well then. Good luck I'm sure you're about to hook him with the styles you stole from Scarlett,” I teased. “Unlike you, who got nothing. I hope you can see the difference now," she said and then ended the call.

She seemed defeated, not that I’d blame her after dealing with everyone else’s idiocy, and I realized that her mood was directly affecting me as if I was a sponge. She turned back around and slumped down against the balcony and I noticed that she clearly had shed more than a few tears. “Do you know what almost every other mafia princess wants?” She suddenly said. “They want to shop for clothes and jewelry. They want to be someone’s future mother or wife. They want someone to save them from their lives with love or adventure or sex or whatever other drug they’re chasing. Most of them want out or want nothing to do with the syndicate at all.

- I present to you the monster forged and created by the Devil himself - I opened a smile in the corner. They finally seem to understand that what Stefano had done to me in recent years was not something so banal, the dedicated, happy, and obedient wife at family parties was just a facade. Their gazes meet in silent exchanges that I recognize, even after so long away from each other, not physically, but we were separated by mafia laws, yet, I recognize what is happening in each look. The empty shell molded to support her needs, the trophy of her conquests to be displayed in public, the marks across my body not visible so no one would suspect that one of the mafia princesses was treated like

Liora’s POV Business had been, frankly, chaotic—in the best possible way. Within three months, I’d acquired another building in New York. The third casino under my family’s name was officially in progress. I was walking through the lobby with the décor team, halfway into a conversation about light fixtures, when a woman—yes, an actual woman—came flying out of nowhere and practically collapsed at my feet. I looked down. Viola. “Viola?” She stood, brushing herself off like nothing had happened, and flashed a tiny diamond ring that was barely visible unless you had a microscope handy.

My ribs ached with every word. “The Lady Novair was a noble woman. To keep her family afloat, she agreed to marry the head of the Mafia. I was with her then—her servant, her confidante—before I was transferred to the Monsignor’s household. Eventually, she conceived and bore him a child.” The story sounded almost peaceful on the surface. But the tension clawed at me, the anticipation that something darker was about to unravel.

It is a monumental task, but I know my woman she will not stop until she stops them all together. They have enlisted the help of the Mafia Queen Cassandria DeAngelis. She was the first female Donna. She and her husband, Matteo DeAngelis, rule over every crime family in the criminal underworld. That includes not only the mafia but expands to the Triads and the Yakuza as well.