Seven years ago—on a day and month still unknown to most—a leading figure within one of the five groups that dominated the Greek Mafia abruptly decided to “change.” Overnight, everything shifted.

The consequences of that “betrayal,” as many called it—others preferred “desertion”—were immediate and cataclysmic, reshaping the map of the Greek underworld. From the moment “Judas,” as he became known, turned against his clan, the bullets began to fall like hail.

Since then, more than thirty-four murders have been counted within the Greek Mafia: small-time “heads,” a journalist, and major figures such as the “Godfather of Godfathers” Vassilis Stefanakos, Giannis Skaftouros, Kape, and most recently, Vangelis Zambounis, or “Zambon.” Zambounis’s killing is widely considered the most expensive contract ever arranged in Greece. After the murder of Roubetis—his biggest enemy—he seemed poised to become the ultimate boss. But nearly a hundred bullets proved otherwise.

The Man with the Look That Killed

It may sound strange that a Mafia boss like Vasilis Stefanakos once posted a quote by Friedrich Nietzsche on Facebook: “The consequences of our actions grab us by the throat. They don’t care if we have become better in the meantime.”
On January 3, 2018, in Haidari, that quote became prophetic. The “Godfather of Godfathers” was riddled with Kalashnikov fire inside his armored BMW.

Thus ended his dramatic, often violent life—a life lived to the extreme by a tough Maniat who believed himself invulnerable. He seemed convinced no one would dare strike him, that his enemies had forgotten. Eventually, they remembered.

Reporters searching for an official biography found none. What existed instead was a carefully cultivated legend: the tough guy of the night who forced his way into the Greek Mafia, claiming what he believed he deserved. Smart, decisive, meticulous, he built an empire of car dealerships, nightclubs, and other, less transparent ventures.

Once he crossed into the underworld more than thirty years ago, the police never stopped watching. A lover of women, he had many relationships—some brief, some long—but, according to those who knew him, he treated the women in his life with respect. He married Katerina Thomaidou in 2010 while imprisoned in Larissa, had a son with her, and later a daughter with a journalist he dated for years. To friends, he was loyal and kept his word. To police, he was one of the most dangerous Mafia godfathers Greece had ever seen.

He was accused of bomb attacks, extortion, protection rackets, contract killings, and orchestrating escapes. And with a look that could “kill,” Stefanakos was notorious for losing his temper when he felt insulted.

The Bloody Pen

One story illustrates it.
A driver, unaware of who sat in front of him at a traffic light, honked when the light turned green. He followed it with Greece’s most common curse: “Come on, you bastard, move it…”
Stefanakos moved, but when he realized he wasn’t armed, he stepped out with the only “weapon” he had—a pen. He stabbed the man—who survived—and later admitted he regretted it. He kept the bloody pen in a plastic bag as a reminder to control his temper, even showing it to a reporter years later.

Arrested in 2007, he cycled through the prisons of Malandrino, Trikala, Larissa, Domokos, and finally Korydallos. Released in August 2016, he returned to Haidari, to his businesses, his children, and a life he had long forgotten. He described himself as a leftist, consistently voting for KKE Interior, and formed close prison ties with members of Christian brotherhoods. In one of his last interviews he declared: “I count everyone, but I am not afraid.”
After his execution, comments flooded his Facebook page. One stood out: “Tonight, they took down the big one…”

Let the Next One Through

After Stefanakos’s death, bullets began falling across the Mafia landscape. As time passed, major and minor figures were cut down. Even 2020—quiet at first due to the pandemic—erupted again in December.

On December 9, in Vrilissia, a man walking along Ymittos Street was executed by a gunman in a passing car. Phones lit up: “They took Kape, they took Kape.”
Kostas “Kape” Kapetanakis, 56, was well known to authorities. His record stretched from the 2001 DELTA dairy robbery to involvement in the notorious “Crime Syndicate,” believed responsible for 11 murders. He had also been linked to corruption within the Greek Police and the protection of brothels. Close to Malamas, he was the next name on the Mafia’s purge list.

The End of “Uncle Joe” in Skourta

By 2022, Giannis Skaftouros—“Uncle Joe”—had been hiding for months, even in caves, knowing he was marked. Old-school Mafia rules once forbade hits near family, but honor had long vanished. On Easter Monday, April 25, 2022, gunmen stormed his father’s home in Skourta, Boeotia.
In front of his daughter, grandchildren, and relatives, they gunned him down with Kalashnikovs.
His daughter and father-in-law were wounded.
Investigators believe someone close to him revealed his whereabouts—perfect timing for such a high-profile hit.

The Execution of “Taxi Driver”

On June 7, 2023, Vassilis Roubetis—“Taxi Driver”—returned to his home in Korydallos with his best man. As he tried to open his garage, the remote jammed. It proved fatal.
The first shooter appeared, killing the best man with a Kalashnikov before turning to Roubetis. A second gunman joined, unleashing a barrage that killed him instantly. The armored Mercedes rolled backward on its own as the shooters fled.

Roubetis, a notorious figure linked to Stefanakos and Skaftouros, had survived past accusations, including an attempted murder and the fatal stabbing of football fan Michalis Filopoulos. Twelve days before his appeal trial, he was executed Mafia-style—judged by the underworld before the courts could hear his case.

Ninety-Seven Bullets for “Zambon”

At dawn on January 14, 2024, Vangelis Zambounis exited a gas station he owned in Neos Kosmos. Alone, unguarded, he climbed into his BMW.
He never saw the sedan parked behind him.

A masked gunman approached and emptied an entire Kalashnikov magazine into the driver’s side. He reloaded and fired again while an accomplice unleashed more bullets from behind. In total, over ninety-five shots tore through Zambounis. Two final pistol shots ended it.

Five years earlier, he had survived an assassination attempt in Piraeus when the attacker’s gun jammed. This time, there was no malfunction.

Zambounis, long considered one of the most powerful men in the “night,” had begun reducing his security after Roubetis’s murder, feeling safer. Even the police believed he was no longer in danger.
They misunderstood the meaning of “unpredictable.”