All Chapters of Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Games : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ Domenico Costello had three sons—Luciano, Mario, and Vito. In our world, the family order means everything. Luciano, being the eldest, naturally became the Don, taking the weight of the family legacy on his shoulders. Mario, his second-in-command, the Underboss, was his trusted shadow. My father, Vito? He was the muscle. The enforcer. The one sent when words failed and blood needed spilling. He thrived in that chaos. Luciano had a son, Nikolai, to carry on his name. Mario had Marco, the heir to his empire. Then there was my father, Vito. His first child was Bianca, from his marriage to his perfect, first wife. Bianca Costello was everything the family could’ve asked for in a daughter—poised, elegant, and everyone's favorite girl. But Vito wasn’t the faithful kind like his brothers. He never was. He cheated on Bianca’s mother with my mother—his mistress at the time. And when she got pregnant with me, he did the unthinkable in the history of the Costello fa

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Anticipation isn’t really my thing. It’s that kind of gnawing unease that sits heavy in your gut, like waiting for the punchline of a joke that’s never coming, like being stuck on the edge of something, teetering between what could go wrong and what probably will. I’d rather skip the suspense and cut straight to the point—because waiting around just makes my skin crawl. I watched as the last of them filed out, leaving the place eerily quiet, just Alessandro and me left on the floor. The air felt thick, the kind of heavy that clings to your skin, making you all too aware of the silence that follows. It’s weird, right? I didn’t even blink when he broke into my apartment that night, like he owned the place. But now? Now there’s this tension hanging in the air, this unspoken challenge. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something about tonight that’s got me on edge. Not scared, just… aware. It’s like I’m standing at the edge of something, and I’m not sure

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ It’s rare for me to be at a loss for words. I’ve talked my way out of more trouble than most people even know exists. But then there are moments—moments like this—where words just fail me. When everything I’m feeling hits me so hard, I can barely breathe. It’s like a tight fist around my throat, and no matter how much I try to swallow it down, it doesn’t budge. Feelings have a way of messing with your head, making you second-guess yourself. Normally, I’d say screw feelings, and keep it moving. But when it comes to her? When it comes to Fliss, it’s different. With her, I don’t need to think. I don’t need to protect myself from my own instincts or worry about my judgment being clouded. She’s the one person in my life who I can let my guard down around, the one person I trust without needing a backup plan. And trust doesn’t come easy for me. Hell, I’ve never done it—not with my siblings, and definitely not with my parents. I’m a vault, locked up tight, and everyone’s o

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I had screwed up, and I knew it. Believe me, I was no stranger to mistakes—I had a whole history of them, a laundry list of times I’d royally messed things up. But this one? This one stung differently, hit harder. It was like I could feel the weight of every bad decision I’d ever made piling up on my shoulders, and yeah, it pissed me off. I was furious at myself for being careless, for letting things spiral out of control, for not being sharper, quicker, better. But the anger wasn’t just directed inward. It burned hot, flaring up every time I thought about the situation I was in. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting anyone—especially someone like Alessandro—see me as a failure, as someone who couldn’t handle her shit. I wasn’t one to back down or wallow in regret, but this? It gnawed at me, clawing its way through my thoughts, and I couldn’t shake the frustration, the annoyance. How the hell had I let it get to this point? Every part of me screamed to fi

Ghost ☩═☠︎︎═☩ I ripped off my mask as I stared down at the scene before me, a twisted work of art—her legs spread wide, blindfolded, wrists bound tight, and lips parted, waiting for my cock. It was almost perfect, almost—but not quite. The flaw in the picture? Too much fabric still clinging to her skin, hiding the parts of her I wanted to expose, to claim. Leaving her hair, I crouched down, moving slowly so she could feel every shift in the air as I did. Her head instinctively followed my movement, seeking out what she couldn’t see, but I caught her by the throat, forcing her back into position. My grip tightened just enough to remind her who was in control. Her neck strained, head tilted back, mouth still open and waiting. Desperate, almost like she knew exactly what was coming but was powerless to stop it. And that’s exactly how I wanted her—helpless, on the edge, and aching for whatever I decided to give her. I couldn’t resist. My hands found her breasts, fingers diggi