Bianca D'alessio Father Novels & Stories

" I bit my lip and didn't say a single word. Uncle Marco pulled out a folder from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to me. I flipped open the folder and realized that it was a copy of an interrogation record. Bianca had personally confessed that she had been in cahoots with the Genovese family for a long time. They ordered her to get close to Dante, and her goal was to cause a rift in my relationship with him. She intentionally caused misunderstandings between Dante and me, fanning the flames of his disdain for me. At the same time, she also secretly fed information to the Genovese family.

Old Moretti's voice was full of flattery. My father panned the camera around the room, finally settling on Santino. "Old Moretti, is this the 'outstanding' heir you bragged about?" My father's voice was freezing cold. "He just injured my daughter, and was planning to take me out while he was at it." "Tell me, how do we settle this score?"

My fiancé sold me to the Norling crime family to pay off a five-million-dollar gambling debt, telling me to please their Don. What he didn't know is that the Don of the Norling family is my father. On our third anniversary, Julius took me to a black market auction in Vegas. "Close your eyes, baby," he whispered. "I promise you're gonna love this surprise." I thought he was going to bid on a gift for me. I did as he asked, closing my eyes and letting him lead me by the hand down a noisy hallway.

Her eyes were locked on Alessia like she was a stain on my sleeve. “And this is the girl,” she said. “Alessia. My fiancée.” My mother scanned her from top to bottom. Slowly. No smile. No nod. Just judgment. “You didn’t tell us she was so… simple.” Alessia smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma.” My father didn’t bother pretending. “You said this was serious.” “It is.” He turned to Alessia. “What does your family do?” She looked at me, unsure.

Gianna’s face paled a bit, and she handed me an envelope. “This…” she whispered. I frowned and pulled out a worn-out paper from it. My eyes scanned the contents, trying to make sense of the dirty handwriting. And with each word, nausea began to engulf me. My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe. “Your father apparently had an affair with a…a prostitute from the slave house. Her name was Rosa…” “Lit the fire…Nico…Be a man…lit the fire. You’re Alessandro Baldocchi’s son. Don’t be a pussy…”

“Yeah. Just now.” “Okay. Now tell me, what happened?” Claire instantly held her throbbing head. “I saw him at the resort, Haruka.” “Who did you see?” Haruka frowned. With trembling lips Claire replied, “My son's father.” Haruka, who was sipping her hot chocolate, almost spilled it because she was too shocked.

Bianca knows well how to put these two grown babies in their place. Bianca is also not in the favor of Alessandro on marrying Anupama but she can not tell him anything because as much as she considers Alessandro as a brother, she can't forget her role as his PA. She knows Alessandro better than Samuel does so she doesn't want to stop him from the things he is planning to do as he never does anything without any reason and if he wants to get married to a person whom he doesn't know well then there is something he is not telling anyone.

He steps closer to Nico and looks straight at him, his voice lowering. “You don't know what you have done. I let it slide before, but now, I won't let this slide. You don't know my father?? My father De Luciano Bianchi sends his regards. Said it’s been a long time since the De Bianchi and the Romanos shared a room without blood being spilled.” My stepbrothers eyes darkens at once whilst I gasp softly. Alessandro is a son to a Mafia Lord?? Damnit! This explains his abusive behaviour. Like father like son.

(Alessandro’s POV) The name hung in the air of the study, a venomous ghost that re-contextualized a decade of my life. Vittorio Bianchi. Head of the New York family. A man my father had called an ally. A man who had likely smiled in my face at my father’s funeral while counting the money he’d spent to have him put in the ground.

That meant, my father had been holding his phone. “What other trouble is he causing now?” I asked, opening some files that Alessio had sent me. They were all photos of his battered face, and some bruises on his back, like marks from being hit with a wooden whip. “I got a report from my men in Sicily. It seems like Mr. Alessio made a mistake that your father didn’t like. However, this time Alessio put up a fight after being punished by your father, so he left the house.” "Again?"