Bianca Di Angelo Death Novels & Stories

My door suddenly got pushed open without warning, and when I looked, it was Lucian walking in now. He didn’t look furious. That would have been easier. The man looked alert. Like a man who just experienced the floor under him shift but couldn't exactly place a finger where the crack began. “Did you hear what happened in Rome?” he asked, breaking the silence. I didn’t turn immediately. “Bianca Vitelli is dead.” He announced in addition. “I saw the news,” I replied flatly. “Said she died in a gas leak.” Lucian watched me the way hunters do when they are unsure who the prey actually is in that scenario.

Death, it came for Bianca without warning; like a gunshot from behind. One moment she was here flying high above the clouds with her rich, married lover, clinking champagne glasses and probably joining the mile-high club, and then the next minute she was gone. Just like that; she ceased to exist. Engine failure, they said. The sophisticated jet caught fire while it was still in the air, then it exploded into millions of pieces before the remnants fell to the shores of the Rocky Mountains.

Angela Rizzo spent ten years scrubbing floors for the Bellini family. Ten years of whippings, stolen wages, and swallowing her pride like it was water. Then the apocalypse came, and the people she kept alive tied her to a pole and left her for the dead. She died screaming. Then she woke up two months before the end of the world, with a system in her head that could see anyone's secrets and a single goal burned into her bones: never be anyone's sacrifice again. "You think you can talk to me like that because I'm a maid?" Angela straightened her back, her eyes cold enough to freeze the room. Carmela laughed, thick and ugly. "You ARE a maid. You're lower than the rats in the basement, girl.

Once, I had poured my entire soul into making this cold fortress feel like a home. The vintage medical diagrams I had framed myself, the rare botanical specimens I had painstakingly nurtured on the sunlit terrace, the handcrafted espresso cups from Florence. Everything was still perfectly in place. Yet, my personal essence had been completely erased. It was as if I had already become a ghost under his roof. Right then, my encrypted phone buzzed with a notification. It was a text from Dominic. 【Aria, I’m sorry. Tonight’s dinner is canceled.】 【Bianca’s vehicle was targeted by a rogue faction's drive-by shooting right outside the Valentino Enterprises skyscraper. She wasn't hit, but she severel

The word tears out of me, half scream, half broken sob. "You’ve always known that." He leans down until his hot breath mixes with mine, until there is nowhere left to look except into those gray eyes. "I want to tear your world to pieces. I want to make you beg for my touch." My throat tightens. "And I fucking want to take you away from my brother." I shake my head, tears gathering in my eyes. "No..." His jaw tightens, and the corner of his lips twitches. "You killed her, Bianca," he says quieter now, and somehow, that makes them worse. "Now you replace her."

His cheeks were pale white, like he never had that rosy dust. Lucas could see the arms bandaged, his feet were covered in white too. He dragged his chair near the bed and put his face on the bed near Liam's hand, hooking their pinky fingers; he kept starring at the angelic face until he fell asleep. Liam opened his eyes to a white ceiling. He looked around, it wasn’t their home. Where was he? He could hear faint beep but at the moment his brain was overwhelmed. There was a particular stench of antiseptics and the room with all white walls.

Then, Angelo shot him three more times on his chest. At this point, Theo couldn't survive it and died instantly. When Angelo was sure he was dead, he began to look for Dominic, whose eyes were almost closed and he was about giving up the ghost. "Dominic! Hey! Stay with me! You can't die now, okay?" He called and Dominic opened his eyes a bit to see Angelo before he forced a smile. "Yes boss!" He whispered and Angelo muttered, 'Good' and lifted him onto his shoulders, and they left the body display scene.

“Victor, Rachel is dead. I’ll send you a photo. Sigh… It’s your big day. I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.” A photo came through, showing Rachel on the ground, covered in blood. Vincenzo had absolute confidence that it would fool anyone. After all, the makeup had taken three full hours to make it look this real. He continued, his voice calm and steady, “When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk properly.” “Shut up…” I muttered, over and over again. “Shut up… Shut up…” Then suddenly, rage ignited in me, and I slammed my foot down on the phone.

Feeling the pain flow through me, my eyes opened wide and I heard a shriek. "ANGELA!" ***** Well, well, well, what was it? Will she die? Or will someone save her? Bloom M.

Both of them were pacing out as if they were in trauma. Pocco and Sheira heard what happened tomorrow after and they hurriedly visited them in the hospital but they were not speaking, they were both silent and still looked like in trauma. They didn't want to speak with anyone yet. So they remained silent as they were enduring the pain of losing Zanea and Blake. "Evangeline," Pocco whispered when he saw her, looking exhausted and was suffering in total misery. ***** "Archangel, the grim reaper said they will collect Zanea's soul, and the vampire is dead," a grim reaper reported.