101 Dalmatian Street Delgado Mga Nobela at Kwento

I ran my eyes around, but an escape was impossible. 'Come here,' the taller one commanded. I foolishly walked to them, trying to think of a plan. 'Give me the bag.' I gave it to him. 'How old are you?' '26,' 'What's your name?' 'Tulip Delgado.' I replied sharply, a lie, obviously. 'She's smart, we can sell her too.' 'Sell me?' I asked with widened eyes. 'Why?!' 'You should be grateful I haven't shot you yet,' the short one snapped. 'Now, come here…' He dragged my hand. I struggled with him, turning their backs to the girl in the process. 'Just hold still! I'm just going to fuck you a little!'

A frivolous smile on his face, blond hair combed to the side and a neatly trimmed beard, Diego Guillermo had the charm and charisma of a rebel prince. "Yikes," he stopped by the door. His expression soured. "Geez, old man. Do you need a doctor to tell you cigarettes are bad for your health?" After releasing a puff of smoke, Dante stumped the cigarette butt on the ashtray. "Your old man is as strong as ever. A few cigarettes won't kill this stallion if bullets did not." "Stallion?" Diego laughed. "Skull. Isn't it?" Suddenly, both men burst into laughter.

I tried to move but his hold was tight on me, his chin rested on my shoulder as he tightened his grip. "Don't move!" He ordered making me freeze. "You could have hired better men..." There was a disappointment in his voice. "These high on sugar men can't even protect you from the street dog. Let alone protecting you from the Rafael Delgado!" He finally told me his surname. It felt familiar, I have heard that name before but couldn't recollect where. Who the fuck was Rafael Delgado and why was he so confident about himself, I wanted to scream that but I was in terror.

I asked. "Gonzalo's daughter? I—I killed her. Did her father send you to get me?" he asked, shivering at the thought of dying. "You're so smart, Diego. Then you must have heard of Alessio DeLuca, right?" "Yes, I've heard of him, but I haven't met him—" Diego's words seized in his throat as he stared at me. I could see the fear in his eyes, and I relished it. "You are Don Alessio—one of the ruthless mafia bosses in Italy?" When I didn’t respond, he began to cry, begging me not to kill him.

The heavy French doors shut with a definitive click, and the thick velvet drapes fell back into place, completely severing the light. Dante stood alone in the freezing gravel path, the wind howling around his ears. He looked down at his boots, then back up at the silent, dark window. The variables had completely shattered. The target wasn't just a brainless cartel accountant or a fragile shield. Isabella Valeriano was a wolf masquerading as a sheep, harboring a hatred that rivaled his own. Dante reached into his pocket, his fingers tightening around the encrypted phone that connected him to the Bureau. For the first time since he took the assignment, he realized he wasn't the only ghost haun

The tension in the room was a living, breathing thing. Camilla stood just behind him. She wasn’t the scared woman she had been when this all began. Power radiated from her like a second skin. She wore black—elegant, lethal—and the pistol at her side was more than just symbolic now. She was ready to fight, to bleed if she had to. For Riccardo. For the empire they had rebuilt from ruin. “Delgado’s dogs are moving,” Marco reported, stepping forward and sliding a tablet onto the steel table. “We intercepted chatter an hour ago. They’re planning a final strike.”

Just as I was about to get in, a car drove in from the gate and pulled to a stop right in front of us. My eyes locked on the car and I felt my heart skip a beat. I knew that car and I knew who was going to be in it. It was the particular car I was in the day I came here. A black SUV. The passenger door flew open and my greatest nightmare walked out. Alejandro Delgado. The devil who could apologize one minute and then turned around seconds later to act like he never did. He walked over to us, a frown formed sternly on his face.

It crazily gnawed on the things inside the bag. Yasmine opened her eyes wide and watched as a round object rolled onto the lawn. Looking towards the lights, it was a disheveled head. Yasmine was trembling all over. Suddenly, her stomach churned, and she turned around, running into the bathroom and leaning over the toilet to vomit. That was Gilberto, the man in the basement cage, and he was actually eaten by a Tibetan Mastiff. The butler would not have had the authority to execute Gilberto, this was ordered by Derrick.

"But does the name, Diavolo, ring any bell?" "Diavolo... Diavolo... Diavolo..." I mumbled under my breath. The name sounded familiar but I couldn't place— oh sh*t! 'Diavolo!' I gasped, and my stomach dropped. 'Devil of Sinclair City! Don of Tenebre!' 'No... It couldn't be...' I took a step back, my wide eyes staring at the man standing before me. It had to be a lie. I couldn't be face-to-face with one of the deadliest men in the entire country! The Lord of Sinclair's underworld!