Arlecchino Novels & Stories

Alpha Nicholas The sight before me is so surreal that for a moment I wonder if im seeing things. "Tony, get down here now. Everyone else stands guard. No one enters here without my permission!" I shout up to the others who are still above ground. The sounds of "Yes, Alpha" echo through the small opening while Tony practically jumps through the doorway missing most of the steps on the ladder on his way down.

he growled, his voice laced with fury. The figure chuckled, stepping into the faint light cast by the glowing symbols on the walls. It was a man, tall and wiry, with sharp, angular features and eyes that seemed to gleam unnaturally. His voice was smooth but carried a sinister edge. “You may call me Alaric,” he said, smirking as his gaze flicked between Dennis and me. “And you must be Damien, the ever-loyal protector of the Crescent Moon pack.” I took a step forward, my blade raised. “Let her go,” I demanded, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Alfredo Fabri POV Business was strictly business when it came down to things like this. Not to sound too overly caught in myself, but they call me “The Devil's Butcher” for a reason. “LaRosa, you know just the right toy that'd suit a man of reputable character” I said in a chuckle, pulling off the jacket of my tux, trying to get into the feel of tonight's occasion just like Gina already had.

he said, suddenly stepping in front of me. He stood in my path, grinning as I recognized him instantly. The man I’d accidentally hit with a sword. The one June whispered about, saying he ran a Mafia organization. “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I muttered with my head bent, trying to slip past. “I just realized I never introduced myself last time,” he said smoothly. He held out his hand like this was some casual meeting. “I’m Alaric.” I stared at his hand but didn’t take it. Was I even allowed to?

Then he stood and walked to the clear banister with the silver railing and turned his back toward me. "Montague?" he asked, looking out onto the city's lights. "I don't suppose Shakespeare wrote a play about your family?" "Different Montagues, I believe." He turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. The position pulled the seams of his shirt, straining them against his shoulders. "As in Montague Corporation—tobacco." "Yes."

SOLANA The Alpha King stood at the entrance of the basement, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a black suit, his presence so overwhelming the air itself seemed to vanish. "Alaric," I spat. His lips curved into a smug smile. "Careful, little wolf. That tone might cost your husband a limb." My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. "You planned this," I whispered. "Of course I did." He tilted his head. "Did you really think a demon of that caliber bonded itself to Roman by accident?"

"Me? Boss, I'm the CFO, not a frontline brawler." "You're a vampire," Jack smirked. "And it's time you taught your obsolete cousins how modern business is done." Ten minutes later, Jack and Ben stood outside the burning refinement depot in Queens. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and spilled plasma. Standing amidst the wreckage were three dozen heavily armed, aristocratic vampires clad in archaic armor, led by Lord Alaric—a snobbish ancient who had long despised Jack’s rule.

I screamed, sliding across the floor in my clogs. I rounded the corner into the grand foyer just as Alaric was walking in with a group of investors. "And here," Alaric began, preening for his guests, "is the epitome of Sterling elegance…" CLACK-CLACK-CLACK. Sebastian the Lobster scurried over Alaric’s expensive Italian loafers. Alaric let out a sound like a punctured bagpipe. "WHAT IS THAT? WHY IS THE DINNER ESCAPING?"

Alessio said with a smirk. Don Vallerio frowned. Click. He let go of his spoon and it landed on the plate. “Manners, please,” he growled, low and husky. Aria’s gaze flicked to the cake on the table. There were three small knives on the tray. Her eyes darkened. “I’m sorry, sir,” Alessio apologized. Aria sat up and leaned forward, her eyes locked on the knife. La Deca Familia ha fatto la sua scelta. Mi assicurerò che Dante scenda all’inferno con me. (The Deca Familia made their choice. I will make sure Dante goes to hell with me.) Aria stood up swiftly and grabbed the knife—

But the thought of leaving the penthouse, even with him, was too tempting. The gallery was in the arts district, a converted warehouse with high ceilings and industrial lighting. It was crowded with the city’s elite, the air thick with the smell of expensive wine and oil paint. Alaric kept his hand on the small of my back as we moved through the room, his touch a constant, grounding weight. "Alaric! You actually made it." A man in a sharp blue suit approached us, holding a glass of scotch. He looked Alaric’s age, maybe a few years older, with a friendly face that didn't seem to match the shark-like atmosphere of the room.