Bartolomeo Ship Novels & Stories

the stepbrother released the smoke of the cigarette from his mouth. She was gradually calm in a second. He was right after all... they had seen the times tougher than this. And her panic was useless. "Pablo, take me to the shipment cargo," she said in a loud voice. Giovanni gave a sign to the rest of the men and they grabbed the extra ammo and went out. On the shore, the cargo ship stood under the starry night with the cool breeze blowing. While all of them were standing in the area, Diego and Rodgiro ran towards them and spoke, "Boss... Don... there's a sign drawn on the wall," Blair and Giovanni looked at each other unaware and strode inside the cargo ship.

“And ‘Aurum Atlanteum’—that’s Latin. It means Atlantean Gold.” “And the last one?” I asked. “‘Moedas do Deserto’… means Coins of the Desert.” I narrowed my eyes. “So what do those poetic latin lines mean?” She shook her head slowly and stifled a laugh. “Caro… there were rumors about a ship called Bom Jesus.” “Bom Jesus means ‘Holy Jesus’—a name Portuguese sailors often gave their ships during the Age of Exploration. It was supposed to reflect faith and ask for divine protection on dangerous voyages… pretty ironic, since it sank.”

She noticed the gap the one port too insignificant to watch closely, yet perfectly positioned for interception. “She’s not just inside,” Bianca said. “She’s already taken one of your keys.” Matteo stared at her, his fury tempered by something else: respect. “Then we’ll take it back.” The message came not through whispers, but through fire. At dawn, word reached them: Romano ships had gone up in flames off the coast of Italy. An entire fleet, reduced to burning wreckage. Smoke spiraled across the sea, carrying the scent of ruin. Bianca and Matteo stood together on a cliff overlooking the water, the horizon blackened with smoke.

Not a man of authority, but one placed where information passed through him. A conduit. When I looked back at him, he was already shaking his head slightly, like he could undo what was coming. "You have five seconds." Bartolomeo swallowed hard. His lips parted, but nothing came out at first. Then his eyes moved again, quick and desperate to the right. To Carlo. I didn't even bother looking at him this time because I already knew. "I didn't, I swear. I didn't mean to." Now, that was it.

“WHEN YOU GET TIRED OF THIS WORD COME AND FALL IN MY ARMS.” Dante's POV The call from Nico comes through just as I'm finishing up a conference call with the Benedetti family in Milan. "Boss, it's done." I step out onto the balcony, closing the study door behind me. "All of it?" "All of it." Nico's voice is satisfied. "Sixteen Russian vessels. Bombed. Sunk. The Bratva is scrambling to figure out what happened."

Below the balcony, trucks loaded with Marchesi wine and exports rolled out under Roman columns—a testament to business proceeding, even amid carnage. The first flashpoint was Palermo’s docks: where Gabe Vale’s southern alliance attempted to push through a shipment. Their force—mercenaries loyal to Julian—fought a pitched skirmish with Cristiano's men. Guns sounded early, but the tide favored Gabe’s squad. They overwhelmed and captured the terminal, but not before Julian was severely wounded. He fell, his breaths rattled, and Gabe carried him from the fray, as Diego, Gabe's fixer, called in reinforcements.

Dante murmured while carefully assessing the movement on the ship. "I did not come to help you" Wesley insisted again. Dante smirked. "Whatever makes you sleep at night" he replied camly. Dante and his men 'lend' Wesley's speed boat to reach the location of Daniel's ship. Dante brought Christopher and Brooke with him, while leaving Arthur behind for Serene's safety. Wesley huffed with annoyance, but said nothing. "Christopher, we will go up that ship. I am sure the ship would have its captain. You replace the captain and take the ship to our docks" Dante instructed.

Beatrice perched on the sofa opposite, leaning forward in anticipation. “Me an’ Agnes dug deep an’ uncovered a sorry tale, make no mistake,” Maud said quietly. “The ship was called The Raven. A galleon that sank off the coast of Ashby-on-Sea in 1588. Captain was a fella by the name of Jackson Crane. A God-fearin’ man, like many around them times. Maybe that explains why folk did what they did, but havin’ a reason don’t make everythin’ ye do in life right.” Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean?”

Vladislav positioned himself in front of me, gun drawn, breath shuddering with fury. “Come one step closer,” he growled, “and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Bartholomew laughed lightly — an airy, elegant sound, as if amused by a childish prank. “Vladislav,” he sighed distastefully“You are really getting on my nerves.” The ship rocked gently beneath us, fog curling around the containers like ghostly figures. The ocean stretched endlessly outside. But there was nowhere left to run. Not here. Not this time. And Bartholomew— Bartholomew was finally done playing nice.

"The new heiress might not like Perini Navi shipyard since it's still marked as the number seven best shipbuilding in Italy times. "Why would I calm down, Matteo? The maritime Atlas Werke market has been described on our offer on numerous occasions as a chicken and egg situation." I freed myself from the strangling of my necktie. "She is just an ugly ass bitch!" I added in anger. "Have you seen her? or knows what she looks like?" Matteo furrows his eyes at me. "She declined our offer, but the Sanlorenzo shipyard gave you a chance, but you declined it too,"