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Chapter 19; flight of plight
최신 업데이트:
2024-06-07 18:10:22
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Becoming Vincenzo's 87
Martinelli tore at the document in his hands as he disgusted it's contents, his phone still in his hand. If there was anything more than anger, that would be what Martinelli currently was. He felt angry but beneath the interior was a fearful thrill he had never had before. He feared for his empire, he feared for his son. He was an impotent man and this had been one of his weaknesses. The lady hadn't dug well about him enough for her to know he hadn't fathered most of the children he traded their kidneys. They weren't his children. He had been obsessed about having children and most of his wives took that to their advantage and tried to buy his love with children they presented to him as his, children that most times belonged to his chauffers and soldiers. He was scared for his son. He was the only child he had, likewise his step sister but he couldn't tell even though that was the reason he had insisted on the both of them living with him and not their respective mothers. Was
Becoming Vincenzo's 86
Twenty Five Years Ago. A nine year old boy sat on the bed while he watched his young mother get dressed up. Their house was modest but not too poor. They appeared to have belonged to the second class in the social ladder. "Mommy, I'm hungry" the little boy said as he watched her. His trousers were tight on him and jumpy. It wasn't his size anymore but he still wore it, his height hadn't reached the top of his wardrobe shelve and so he wore that which his hand could touch at the moment. "Mommy...." He called again as there was no response to his request the first time. "Ohh Charles can you keep quiet? You're always noisy and to never let me have fun. I'm not the only woman with a child, why do you want me to look older than my age because I birthed you?" She snapped at him sharply as she turned to face him, sparing a bit of her time. "But mommy..." He wanted to continue. He was hungry. Very hungry. It was almost 2pm in the day and he was yet to have breakfast. His father had gi
Becoming Vincenzo's 85
Micheal's eyes widened in surprise as he stood frozen in the doorway of the living room,taking in the transformed surroundings. The once cluttered and chaotic space was now immaculately tidy and with every item in its perfect place. He stared at the clock on the wall, the time still read 8:00 AM and he was beyond bewildered.How was it possible? They had both gone to bed around 11pm the other night, how was it possible that she was able to turn the place that had looked like a pigs nest around in such a short span of time, without any help and even without him knowing!She had managed to completely overhaul the house!Micheal's gaze still wandered around the room, taking in the neatly arranged furniture, the dust-free surfaces, and the spotless floor. It was as if Ahneeka had waved a magic wand and made all the clutter disappear. He couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and curiosity. Who was this woman, and what other secrets did she harbor? Who was she exactly? Who was she! H
Becoming Vincenzo's 84
Martinelli tore at the document in his hands as he disgusted it's contents, his phone still in his hand. If there was anything more than anger, that would be what Martinelli currently was. He felt angry but beneath the interior was a fearful thrill he had never had before. He feared for his empire, he feared for his son. He was an impotent man and this had been one of his weaknesses. The lady hadn't dug well about him enough for her to know he hadn't fathered most of the children he traded their kidneys. They weren't his children. He had been obsessed about having children and most of his wives took that to their advantage and tried to buy his love with children they presented to him as his, children that most times belonged to his chauffers and soldiers. He was scared for his son. He was the only child he had, likewise his step sister but he couldn't tell even though that was the reason he had insisted on the both of them living with him and not their respective mothers. Was
Becoming Vincenzo's 83
Martinelli tore at the document in his hands as he disgusted it's contents, his phone still in his hand. If there was anything more than anger, that would be what Martinelli currently was. He felt angry but beneath the interior was a fearful thrill he had never had before. He feared for his empire, he feared for his son. He was an impotent man and this had been one of his weaknesses. The lady hadn't dug well about him enough for her to know he hadn't fathered most of the children he traded their kidneys. They weren't his children. He had been obsessed about having children and most of his wives took that to their advantage and tried to buy his love with children they presented to him as his, children that most times belonged to his chauffers and soldiers. He was scared for his son. He was the only child he had, likewise his step sister but he couldn't tell even though that was the reason he had insisted on the both of them living with him and not their respective mothers. Was
Becoming Vincenzo's 82
Twenty Five Years Ago. A nine year old boy sat on the bed while he watched his young mother get dressed up. Their house was modest but not too poor. They appeared to have belonged to the second class in the social ladder. "Mommy, I'm hungry" the little boy said as he watched her. His trousers were tight on him and jumpy. It wasn't his size anymore but he still wore it, his height hadn't reached the top of his wardrobe shelve and so he wore that which his hand could touch at the moment. "Mommy...." He called again as there was no response to his request the first time. "Ohh Charles can you keep quiet? You're always noisy and to never let me have fun. I'm not the only woman with a child, why do you want me to look older than my age because I birthed you?" She snapped at him sharply as she turned to face him, sparing a bit of her time. "But mommy..." He wanted to continue. He was hungry. Very hungry. It was almost 2pm in the day and he was yet to have breakfast. His father had gi
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