The Mafia's Princess Novels & Stories

"For you, I let the world believe I was dead." "To be with you, I gave up my identity, my status, everything." Her voice started to tremble. "I thought that would be enough to earn your love." My eyes widened. I finally understood everything. No wonder she was always so mysterious. No wonder she was so capable. No wonder she could do so much for me. She was the Rossi princess. The princess of the oldest, most powerful mafia family in Chicago. "Aurelia..." I reached out a trembling hand. "I didn't know... I never knew..."

She wanted to make him pay. She is Ariella Gregory, the only daughter of Alder Gregory, the mafia don. She's a princess of the mafia world! She belongs to the criminal underground; she is a part of the gangster world, a life that she clearly hates. But then again, this was all before. She had just come to terms with the cold, hard reality of what she truly was, and she needed to embrace the only thing that could possibly make her feel like Elliot was still with her. She must accept the fact that she is a mafia princess because this is where Elliot will live within her.

I was so angry, I needed to punch someone or be punched and she was perfect for that. My eyes are still glued on her. She’s actually glowing and I wonder if she’s really into Ethan. I have tabs on him too. His family business is at the verge of bankruptcy. Collaboration can’t be the reason she’s marrying him. Besides his good looks which are nothing compared to mine, I can’t find any reason why the mafia princess is marrying him. I don’t wonder too long though because her arrogant asshole of a brother walks in and now I know her motives.

I was a mafia princess in hiding. I gave my husband everything. Then, right after his company went public, he cheated on me at the party I threw for him. With his childhood sweetheart, Isabella. “Elena, you can’t even iron an Hermès scarf? Look at these wrinkles. It’s a cheap rag.” I stopped. The steam from the iron—or maybe my own rage—blurred my vision. Marco’s mother, Amelia, threw the expensive scarf back at me, her face full of contempt.

, I begin. "Fuck, he sounds hot." Adele groans and flattens herself on the bed. I stare off to the side before sighing, "He is, very much so," I respond. "So, who exactly is he? Is he a student at our school or someone you met on a job?" Before I say anything, I glance at her. "He's the next leader of the Italian Mafia." She gasps and sits up straight, her eyes widening in surprise. "Oh god, he's bound to be a fucking king in the sheets."

I'm trying to take all this shit in. I had a mafia princess in my jurisdiction for a while and had no idea. How the fuck did she slip by my guys? She wasn't even using an alias, not that anyone knew too much about Rossi's only offspring. She was one of the mob's best kept secrets. "Swear to me that you didn't play me Mouth." I could forgive anything but the thought that she might've played me wasn't one of them, I'd let her into my circle, introduced her to ma. Fuck, ma.

I didn't wanted her to know that I worked as a waitress, it was not like I was ashamed of what I was doing but I knew that the queen bee will some how manage to present me as a joke again. Ava rolled her eyes at me. "Ariadne is that you?" Ava patted my back as she walked past me. Great so she saw me. Ava was not from a wealthy family but some how she always managed to put on the wealthy lifestyle. No one knew what her parents did. There were rumours that her father abandoned her and her mother. Her mother was a prostitute. I am not sure about it. And I am not claiming anything. I have just heard it. Maybe this is the reason why Ava values money over everything.. Or maybe she is just that sel

These directors are also part of our underground group. No wonder they are all close, they know each other’s skeletons and Giovanni admitted it to me. Giovanni cleared his throat. “Amara Corporation is influential in the African Mafia, that’s why I approved their proposal,” he said and they were all shocked by his news. “He doesn’t look like one, I mean, in a sense of not a strict person,” someone said.

I'm ready to be myself again. His response was a single word: *Finally.* Elena climbed back into bed. This time, sleep came easily. Because for the first time in five years, she knew exactly who she was. Elena Vittoria Accardi. Mafia princess. Artist. Fighter. And she was done playing nice.

Instead, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he signals to his guards to bring me to him. 'Signore e signori, vorrei presentarvi la mia ultima acquisizione, la Principessa Russa, Tavisha Khusnova. Una giovane donna che, evidentemente, non comprende le usanze della nostra mafia italiana. Una cosa a cui sto per porre rimedio immediatamente.' [Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to my latest acquisition, the Russian Principessa, Tavisha Khusnova. A young lady who clearly does not understand the ways of our Italian Mafia. Something I am about to rectify immediately.]