Why The Mafia Is Not An Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Spinning in his seat, he faced my profile directly. I had plenty of reasons to reject him. He had short blond hair that suggested he was a preppy loser who cared more about looks than what was underneath the surface of a person. He stank like too much cologne. He was lanky and too slim, showing no masculine strength that I preferred in eye candy. And he was trying way, way too damn hard. But most of all... I'm already "claimed" by a Mafia lord, you dumbass. I mused about that detail, wryly wondering what this skinny, over-eager punk would do if he knew I belonged to a lethal, dangerous, and well-connected criminal. If he had any common sense, he'd back off now.

The world of the mafia; everyone assumes a mafioso is a ruthless criminal. But Raffaele wasn't like that. He led a clandestine group operating within the legal system, dispensing a twisted form of justice. They were handsomely paid – a price well worth the work. Raffaele was a judicial mafia, a man courted by corporations eager to secure his services. Yet, he remained fiercely loyal, refusing additional clients. Selena's eyes widened in shock at the text message from her son, Alessandro. Despite the thrill, a deep-seated anxiety gnawed at her. Raffaele's past, no matter how long buried, would eventually resurface.

There were seven girls for them to select from, and Samantha swallowed hard as the first old man approached her. He even touched her face, and instinctively, Samantha closed her eyes as he leaned in to smell her neck, causing her knees to weaken. Samantha wanted to curse him for his actions, but fear still held her back. "Mr. Chaves, you know the deal, payment first before anything like that," said a man named Ace. He was also the boss, but someone higher up was orchestrating all these illegal activities. "Haha... I know, it's just that she looks so beautiful and fresh, but I'll look at others first," said the old man, walking away and stopping next to Gwen.

“I knew of your existence all this time, sweet Ivy…” My heart skips a beat at the sound of my name on his lips, a strange, electric warmth threading through my chest. But I shove the feeling away. Now is not the time. I need answers—truths, not feelings. “You… you knew?” I whisper, voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and fury. “And you did nothing? You just… let me be married to him? To Owen?” I scoff, voice sharp. “Why did I ever think of you as a decent man? You’re a mafia!” I pause, swallowing hard, then jab a finger at him. “You’d hurt me the same way Owen did.”

With all his cunning and bravery, Liam had successfully betrayed Rafael—a big mafia who led an underground network in America and Europe. Long before making a decision, Lucas knew that Liam was a dangerous man who could kill anyone he wanted, even without reason. Deciding to work with him was the same as putting his life in danger. "I wanna do it because they're useless. I won't kill anyone useful to me." "Is this a warning for me to do something useful for you?" Lucas asked calmly. "You're too brave to be under Rafael's rule, Axton." Liam squinted his eyes, "I feel that you could betray me anytime you want."

It was hard at first, but it became a part of me when I numbed everything I was feeling and used taking care of her as a distraction. Running the Mafia made me realise I had to do away with one thing. My humanity. I had to throw it out the window, channelling my emotions into making the very best out of my family. It was easier to deal with the pain that way. As time went on, it only lingered as a dull ache, and at some point, I stopped feeling. Broken. Hollow. Damaged.

Shadow Cole? The most wanted man in the country. What? No way. My brothers couldn't be working for him. "That doesn't mean anything," Aiden added, aiming at the ball with his cue. "Mafia comes with its benefits and losses. But more on the benefits. I just love the title of a mafia man and the power it carries. So... I have to be careful," Maven said. No. I've heard enough. I pushed the slightly opened door, causing them to turn to my direction.

“Is how I live.” I nod kind of understanding where she is coming from. The mafia is rooted deep in tradition and traditionally women are tools. “So do you like the book?” I decided to ask and she relaxes and nods. “They exaggerate and romanticise the mafia men but I kind of like it.” We pause for a while and then she speaks up almost hesitantly.

I gestured vaguely. "A war room?" Dante suggested. "Yes." "That's accurate." I moved closer to the boards. Some of the photographs showed unfamiliar men. Others showed buildings warehouses, docks, clubs. A few had red marks drawn over them. "What are these?" I asked quietly. "Problems." That was such a Dante answer. I turned toward him. "You deal with problems like this every day?" "Yes." "And people still think joining the mafia is glamorous," I muttered. His gaze sharpened slightly. "No one joins this world because it's glamorous."

Why was that, was the question? The almighty Garcia's were the oldest in following traditions and royalties, obviously their thinking about women were old too, they were narrow minded. Even though their mafia was believed to be the greatest in terms of power and wealth but they still lacked in sacraments which only a woman can provide. Without a woman, family full of reputed men can turn into one ugly group of monsters, which they obviously were. Garcia's never had any woman's influence. Men in their territory were surely born and brought up in riches but never in parental care or motherly affection. Resulting the whole mafia to be a pack of devils... fucking animals!