Casanova Sentences Novelas e Histórias

Cassio is a smart, cunning mafia but when it comes to use brain, far sightedness, he can’t match me. “Okay, I agree to your terms. Call your lawyers and elders of the famiglia. I’ll give you my written promise. Now, care to share the rest of the details that I need to find out what is actually going on between Giovanni and Desmond.” I said. “Very well. I am calling them right away. Please, help yourself with the drinks of your preference, I have the limited collection of rare wines.” He said, triumph sparkled in his eyes. “Alright, go on, I have plenty of time today.” I sat down comfortably on the sofa and poured neat whiskey in a silver glass.

The wine had warmed my veins, making everything feel hazy and deliciously intimate. Dante propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes tracing the curve of my hip where the sheet barely covered me. "Tell me more about your art, Cassidy," he said, his voice low and curious, like he was unraveling a mystery. "What drives you to create? Is it escape, or something deeper?"

“Because you never let me…” The statement caused me to frown, but I did not ask why because I was too hesitant to ask. “Do you like him?” he asked calmly, gazing at my lips as if he wanted to kiss me. I nodded and said nothing. “Beware of this Casanova.” With a rough laugh, I let out. “I don’t care who he is; all I care about is that he makes me feel better.” His eyes turned a deep shade of black, making my breath hitch as he whispered, “How?”

"Does your IQ drop to zero when you fall in love?" "I just lack experience." "But you come across like a Casanova." Joe did not understand. "What does that mean?" He was not familiar with the term. "In simpler terms, it means you've dated many women. You've been through the lot and never stuck to one." "That's a big misunderstanding." Joe shrugged. "I'm a perfectly innocent man!" "Well, you do give off that vibe." "How can you just sling my name through the mud?" Joe was helpless and puzzled. "I don't get it. How do I give off this Casanova vibe?"

I said in a hard voice. She bobbed her head. “Yes, he… he is around.” I patted her head like she was a good fucking cat. “Good.” I walked into Marino’s office like I owned the god-damned place. Soon it was going to be mine anyways. The asshole was sitting behind his desk sipping wine. “Wow, look who we have here.” he beamed. “The one and only Cassano.” “Hey Marino. How are you doing?” I asked, sitting in front of his desk. Matteo stood behind me.

I flicked my head up, my eyes narrowed in slits at the man standing above me, his arms crossed over his torso while he held up that smug look I desperately want to wipe away with the back of my training boots. Smug son of a bitch. “That’s too much cursing, by the way.” Cassain pointed out, still as ever hearing and intruding my thoughts with his unwelcomed presence, an action he seems to enjoy way too much. “Of course, I enjoy listening to you curse me out fifty times a day. It warms my heart that I’m so loved by you.” Though he held up a smile, his tone dripped with sarcasm.

It was unlikely for Drey not to call us! It would only cost her a minute to call. I could not help but sulk, but I was not blaming her. I was only worried about her. What could have gone wrong? Over the past few days, I researched more about Aris and found out that he was the CEO of the Sandoval Group of Companies. But at the same time, another article popped up that he was an egoistic Casanova. From what I understood, a Casanova is a person who used to break a woman’s heart.

It was thick and hard like an ATM card with some words chiseled on it. It has a six digit number on it, and a logo of a two tulip flower entangled on each other. Serene read the words on top of the ticket. “Casa Roma.” “The Casa Roma was the prestigious hotel freshly built on the Vianca Island. I'm sure you already heard about that island in the east. I stayed there once and they have the best wine ever in the whole continent. It's a good thing they built an official hotel on that place because resort houses was a bit old fashioned for me.” Sydney had gone through the Vianca Island after college graduation. She met few hunks there, but the tourists on the Vianca Island mostly are womanizer.

Zavier asked. Niccolo hesitated. Zavier noticed. (Translation: Where did the money go?) "Respóndeme rápidamente." Zavier warned him. Niccolo straightened. (Translation: Answer me quickly.) "Casinos. Mesas clandestinas. Juegos de alto riesgo. Lo perdió todo. Incluso lo que no era suyo." Niccolo completed. Zavier leaned forward now, elbows resting on the table. His face remained calm, but the air changed-thickened, tightened.

Charles had explained to me that Cassio made statues of him and any girl, who had created an impression. Cassio was a psycho, keeping the statue while this screaming lady was still with him. “The word faithfulness, and you is something that is parallel to each other. You can never cross. Faithful? Indeed.” He scoffed, “Where should I start from? Your one night stand with the Duke of Winston hills when we were still dating? Or your escapades with Carl at the pack council?” He listed.