Bartolomeo Ship Novels & Stories

All business went terribly slow that day, people were becoming increasingly dissatisfied, and worst of all, the shipments got diverted. Arcangelo had given Lorenzo the simple task of calling the shipment docks and have them deliver all crates and cartons and whatever containers he had ordered, to be delivered to Tuscany. Somehow, Lorenzo heard Tuscany as something entirely different and had them deliver all the containers there. "Did you call the shipping docks?" Arcangelo sighed as he had just gotten off the phone with them, finding out that the ships hadn't arrived yet. "Yes. Just as you asked," Lorenzo spoke with a proud smile that he got it right.

He began to rain bullets on them. Some of Roberto’s men hurried to the other side of the ship as Roberto and the rest of his men distracted the villains. They kept their eyes our for Martina and the man that had carried her. They didn’t shoot him because they didn’t want to hurt Martina, instead he let the men that headed into the ship take care of it. The men that kidnapped Martina fired back squarely and took hidings behind some boats and even the van. Adelina kept her head low in the car so that she wouldn’t get hit by the flying bullets. Vincenzo got into the ship, keeping all his senses active for attack from any one that was present in the ship. To his greatest surprise, he couldn’t fi

He turned as we walked up the stone steps. "Anchor," Torin said, nodding respectfully to Elias. He looked at me and Zane. "Elders." "Where is it?" Elias asked. Torin pointed down at the bay. The water was a calm, glittering blue. Anchored exactly where the massive flagship had been vaporized ten years ago was a single human galleon. It was not a warship. It was battered. The wood was faded, the sails patched and re-patched. It looked like it had barely survived the crossing.

Romano sipped a glass of whisky before speaking, "What is the status of things?” A tall, muscular man stood to his feet, dressed in a fine Italian suit. He was in his mid-twenties, with short brown hair. “Our shipments arrived at the docks…” he announced, “As usual, we encountered no difficulties in clearing the goods. Lorenzo and Faustino have picked up the goods from the docks and they will be dispatched by midnight at the latest.” “Luca Moretti,” Romano called out, a grin plastered on his face. “Good work.” He shifted his gaze to the big, burly man. “Colombano? my money?”

Translator – Yue The Port of Salerno remained unchanged. Tall, imposing walls surrounded the beach. There were numerous houses with scarlet-colored rooftops everywhere. A seemingly endless turquois-colored. Everything was as calm and beautiful as before. There was only one ship resting on the shores. A white, modern, elegant ship.

The retort is fast, too fast, words cutting like knives. “We’ve confirmed her location.” The words fall like stones, heavy with hope and dread. Gabriel freezes, his whole body going still. The first mate continues, emboldened by the lack of immediate violence. “She’s on a ship, anchored in a cove about two leagues south. Just sitting there.” A shudder runs through Gabriel, and then he is in motion, sweeping papers off the table with a wide arm. “Prepare to move. I want two boats, best fighters only.” The orders come clipped and precise, a captain’s voice overriding the man’s chaos.

That is, if she came back. “Please come back to me!” Bartolomeo sat in the armchair, defeated. He thought so much about Maryam all those years, wondering if she had married someone else. He didn't look for her, or try to find out about her, so as not to fall into temptation or draw attention to her, putting her in danger. He needed to make sure she would be safe. Years passed and he figured she wouldn't wait for him. Meanwhile, Vince went after Nico. He would soon deal with Raffaele. Two days in that cell probably softened him up.

Mala shouted at Bartolo as she ran toward him, luring the ironclad beetles. Bartolo heard her call and saw the beetles behind her. Bartolo gathered his strength into his arms and prepared to attack. Despite being from the same species, they didn’t seem to be as strong as Noso because Mala’s attacks scratched them a bit. Nonetheless, Bartolo launched a full power attack at them. His fists collided with one of them and he kept the momentum going until he smashed the beetle into the ground. Bartolo grabbed the other beetle by the head and tore it off its torso like it was paper.

Control of the ports. “Tradimento.” Betrayal. “Fiducia, ma con cautela.” Trust, but with caution. Genci approached again, leaning close. “Signore, message from Rico. The shipment was intercepted. Two men dead.” I didn’t flinch. “By who?” “They say Powell’s men.” Giovanni swore softly. “He’s moving faster than I thought.” Camilla tilted her head. “So what’s next, Dante? War?” The question hung in the air like gunpowder.

I pressed closer, my cheek grazing his chest, my palms still over his ribs, aching for him to hear me. “Good,” he said, “Get Santoro on Marini. Offer him a cut, enough to make him look the other way tonight. If he balks, we burn the ledger on Vescovi. You hear me? Burn it. No signatures, no paper trail. Move the shipment to Berardi’s yard at once and have two trucks on standby. I don’t want customs anywhere near it.” I pressed my mouth to the hot skin of his neck, needing the sound of him to be something I could swallow, “Please,” I breathed against him, the single word shaking into his skin, “Just... hear me out.”