Novel & Cerita Why The Mafia Is Not An Aesthetic

Mariano laughed again. "He studied Mechanical Engineering." Alex winked at me. "What? Then why the hell you guys are in the mafia? I thought illiterate guys join the mafia." I exclaimed. "No, cara. A mafia needs well-educated and strong people. We need both the brain and competency unless we want the mafia to fall." Mariano chuckled. "Yes. Haven't you heard 'Give me an educated mother, I'll give you a developed nation'? The mafia works like that. If we weren't intelligent and educated enough, we could never build a whole empire in the underworld." Alexander explained.

"We have to act quickly." "I don't need anyone to say that to me. I know." I snapped, anger coursing through the veins. This is what I hated the most about the mafia. There were too many inherited fights and wars. Sometimes a war could go on for years; the reason for the war could be stupid or just based on a careless misunderstanding. Nobody opts for peaceful negotiation. Everyone wants to show forth their faux power to attract respect and fear even

“I already have. For years.” Matteo lowered his gun slightly, but his body remained coiled. “Talk. Then we end this.” The man’s smile widened. “The Architect was a front. I was the one who arranged Marco’s debts. I was the one who made sure you walked through that grey door, Alexandria. I needed a mother strong enough to carry heirs who could survive this world. Matteo was the strongest sire available. The obsession was… an unexpected but useful bonus.” I felt sick. “You used us like breeding animals.”

“We are the anti-mafia. The not mafia. A group of people who tries to destabilize organized crime. We try to right the wrong by doing bad things to bad guys.” “So, the not-mafia mafia.” “Not. The. Mafia. We don’t use that word around here. That word is archaic and only goes so far to describe some organized crime. We target all of it.” “Oh. I get it.” I pretend to breathe out a huge sigh of relief. “So, you’re not the mafia. You’re just a bunch of black-clad vigilantes who live underground and talk fairy tales about robbing the rich to give back to the rightful owners and those more deserving.”

A slow smile crept across her lips. “What?” I asked warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “You have a good set of tits,” Ilaria said matter-of-factly. I blinked at her, completely caught off guard. “I… what? I don’t understand.” Ilaria chuckled softly and shook her head. “Why do you think the mafia is so determined to keep women out of their world? Why do you think it’s so hard for them to accept us as equals?” “Because they think we’re inferior,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

Even if they wanted to, why draw so much attention by messing with a sicko like Dimitri? The only sensible explanation would be the mafia but just like the government, other mafias were sensible enough to steer clear off our business. There would be no point involving themselves in a fight that wasn't theirs. It would be a complete waste of time and resources, a loss on their own part. It could also be that Dimitri had stepped on another group's toes and they weren't having any of that. I stared long and hard at the pictures and I couldn't deny the fact that I was satisfied with the brutality and intrigued by the work of art done them.

If you're all about safe, good-guy heroes in your romances, this might not be your cup of tea. Each of these Mafia Men carries their own set of scars, desires, and strengths, seeking partners who accept them as they are, without expecting them to change. They're looking for compatibility, not someone who wants to mold them into something they're not. Consider this your final heads-up: Marco Costello is not your typical romantic lead. »»————————«« Trigger Warning: The following book contains imagery that may be distressing to some readers, including violence, gore, sexual content, and crude language. Reader discretion is advised.

She said and he sighed. “Am a gangster, am a mafia guy, I do dirty works with Russians, I kill people, not intentionally though, only those that mess with me, I smuggle drugs and guns but I don't do drugs, in short am a bad person, that is the way I make my money, my companies and different investments are just like a cover up for all, am really sorry I didn't tell you all this while, please don't leave me.” Eddy rushed his words and stared at her to see her facial expression and it was blank, he couldn't tell how she was feeling.

Chapter 2 Dangerous man MABEL'S POV The suite screamed excess. There were crystal chandeliers and velvet walls. A glass table groaned under the weight of enough food to feed a small army. It was a gluttons wet dream. Everything about Nikolai’s world was designed to impress and to intimidate. Tonight was no exception.

“Fucking take a shit, Solana. You want me to leave? Fine, but you have to take a shit first.” We stood, staring at each other, his blue eyes dark with morbid rage, mine, maybe the look of an animal backed up into a corner with no way out and no strength to fight, I guess? I didn't know what to do, whether or not to try and make him understand any further. I didn't know him. Didn't know the limits to his anger, or what he was capable of. Those facts clogged my throat, threatening me right there, right now. He was the first son of a mafia boss. He was a future successor. I'd seen his abundant aides at my father's funeral. Seen that he was armed himself, despite the large quantities of soldiers