Novel & Cerita Italian Mafia Books

He asks when tons of questions keep stabbing him from inside. “Yes, I am.” “How dare you enter my house?” His presence billows Jacob’s heart from the inside, but he tries to stay calm. Henry’s gaze has trailed all over the house, that is reflecting the wish of seeing someone in particular. The living room is the same as before; nothing has changed at all. The color of the walls, the decoration of the living room, the cozy, comfortable couch with the pillows printed with the art of two little boys—everything is the same as before, just the pattern of the relationship has been changed brutally. Controlling all the emotions that have been raised a while ago, his gaze falls on Jacob. “Calm down,

My father spoke out as he wiped a tear from his eyes from laughing so hard. “What is it?” I asked shortly. The familiar pain in my heart was returning, and I needed to see if Allegra’s letter came today. “As you know, the Italian and American Mafias have never been so successful, profitable, and organized.” Xavier spoke out as he leaned back in his chair. I walked back over to the bottle of whiskey and poured myself another glass.

“You’re leaving for Italy. Your name stays Jay. You’re the perfect person for this mission.” Jay exhaled slowly and accepted the documents. He glanced at the file — photos, notes, mafia profiles. One name stood out: Rafael “Rafe” Bianchi. The mafia boss of Milan, infamous for his ruthlessness, his dominance, and… apparently, his taste in men. The assistant appeared with a small suitcase. “Your things are here. And you’ll need to change your appearance for the mission,” she said.

She closed her shop and moved away from Little Italy, wanting to start a new life far away from the dangerous world of the Mafia. She tried to put the past behind her and move forward, but the memories of Lance and her time with the Mafia haunted her. She could not forget the way he had used her and discarded her, the way he had played with her emotions and made her believe that they could make a diference together. She realized that she had been naive to think that someone like him could ever truly care for her.

In that case, I could not blame her. She had left me for a man who was nothing better than I was, and yet, according to her, he was ‘different’. Different how? He was the Capo of Cosa Nostra like I was the Capo of 'Ndrangheta. Adonis Vitale ruled most of New York alongside his rivals, the Illianos, while I ruled the entirety of Canada. We were both territorial men. We were both Mafia lords. I did not understand any part of Belle’s logic.

Pain, guilt, regret, shock, hatred, fear and anger are emotions much stronger than love, happiness, relief, gratitude and respect—that was the only lesson I had ever learned from my papa, Danilo Romano, the Underboss of Minneapolis. The first time I had experienced one of those overwhelming emotions was when Papa had announced the news about the Capo of Cosa Nostra Adonis Vitale having a secret wife and a daughter.

~VITTORIA~ I walked into the sitting room and scoffed, making them notice my presence. Sore enough they weren't happy to see me. Simone was sitting there together with three other men who were from other mafia families of lower rank. They had also been present at the meeting when Bianchi was killed by Roman. "Y'all seem to be having a fun conversation," I told them looking from one person to another. And making sure I said it in the rudest tone I could use. "I mean since Tiziano's name was mentioned, it sparked my interest a little bit too much."

Axel swiftly steps aside, avoiding the flying glass. My temper has been out of control lately. But who can blame me? Antonio was one of my best men, and I found out too late that he was stealing from me. Besides the men I've already tortured and killed for information, I don't know who else could have been working with him besides the Russians. Any of my men could be traitors, and I fucking hate traitors. Nobody steals from me. NOBODY! My blood is boiling, threatening to explode. Killing him wasn't enough. Once you join the mafia, your family automatically becomes collateral. He took from me, and I'm going to take everything from him even if he's already rotting away in hell.

"Let’s welcome our brother who’s been lost to the snare of Lilith, a woman filled with deception—the temptress herself." Dontrell rolled his eyes but didn’t acknowledge my jab. Instead, he strode toward the left corner of the rooftop, where a round glass table sat, its hard-styled décor sharp and imposing. Five sleek chairs surrounded it. Beside it stood a life-sized bronze statue of Vito Genovese, a 20th-century mafia boss who ruled the Genovese crime family with absolute control—like a puppet master.

“The real truth is he was probably followed into the woods, beaten to semiconsciousness then tossed over the edge of the cliff.” “Yes.” Her dark eyes are full of sympathy. “So, John was killed, most likely by—” I swallow. Nolan’s name bounces around my skull, on the tip of my tongue. I can’t do it. “Someone from the Morfil family. My father was most likely killed through some kind of Mafia connection.” Dai Qing closes the file and stares at me for a moment. “He learned Italian after your brother was murdered, right?” I give a curt nod. “The De Luca family speaks primarily Italian for their business purposes.”