Corrupted A Rosato & Dinunzio Novel Novels & Stories

“Then let them kill me. Because I’ll never let you go.” The silence between them, heavy and fragile. Finally, Matteo staggered back, buttoning his shirt, dragging in a breath. He muttered “I need to get home and think, I need a breath of fresh air," and then stormed out of the office. Dominic stood alone, heart beating so fast, his lips were slightly open, knowing that every second they were together only brought them closer to ruin. That evening, the mansion glowed with golden light. Dinner at Dante Romano’s table has never been a normal one—it was always dramatic, a stage set for power and intimidation. Crystal glasses caught the light, silverware layered in perfect rhythm, servants glided

And for the first time, they didn’t say Don Romano’s son. They said Dante "The Devil" Romano. And New York learned to fear me. Present The club was alive with the usual vices music, smoke, liquor, and people spending their money. La Rosa Nera was too loud, too bright, too fucking everything. In my office I swirled my bourbon, watching the ice melt as Enzo and Luca argued over the Bratva’s latest move. "—could hit the docks Thursday," Luca grunted, his massive arms crossed. "Take them out first."

“There’s a difference, and I’m aware of it.” “Damien Cross, one of the most powerful men in New York, burned pasta.” “I did not burn it,” he said, wounded. “I merely gave it more attention than it required.” I laughed, real and unguarded, and sat down across from him, and it didn’t matter at all that the sauce was slightly scorched, because he’d done it with his own hands instead of asking staff to do it for him, because some part of him still wanted to prove he could give me something ordinary after a day that had asked us both to carry something extraordinary and heavy.

Dante's POV I had spent two years weaving a massive net, trapping the Rossi family inside. I cut off their deals, funded their enemies, and let them suffer a slow, agonizing death. I thought I was doing it for my own pride, for the Costello family name. Until Luca placed a two-year-old, dust-covered investigation report in front of me. "Don, according to our latest findings... the photo leak at the hotel ceremony, and the Russian Roulette game... they weren't accidents."

She pulled Charlotte away from the window. Charlotte was dragged to where the tables were set up. The ornate silver brush felt cool against Charlotte’s fingertips, a stark contrast to the simmering anger that pulsed beneath her skin. She’d spent the last few days meticulously observing Rosalie, Roman’s wife, and her friend, a woman who radiated an unsettling aura of fragility and controlled fury. Rosalie’s supposed story, of a love-struck naïve girl, swept off her feet by a charismatic mafia boss, was riddled with inconsistencies, tiny cracks in the carefully constructed façade.

“But... didn't you leave for a really big meeting?” Luciano’s brow furrowed, though he kept the easy smile on his face. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that?” “Mommy!” Renzo replied instantly. Luciano’s gaze snapped straight, pinning Rosa. She felt a sudden flush of heat creep up her neck, though she deliberately refused to meet his eyes. Her mind was reeling—not just from being caught in a lie, but because of the state of the room. The dining area was entirely pristine. There wasn't a single shard of glass or a trace of the violent outburst she’d heard earlier. The bare dining table was wiped completely clean, confirming her suspicion that the expensive crockery had indeed been sacrificed to his le

And here we had Rosanna Donatello, already telling me to keep my hands…paws…off of her man? “You think he’s dying to be close to you?” Rosanna spat at me, her expression betraying the turmoil she felt inside. “My fidanzata would never choose a whore like you over a Mafia Principessa! I’m pure of both mind and body, while you’re covered in filth!” “Pure body?” I shrugged, not caring about her off-handed insults. “Sure…maybe? Pure mind? Definitely not. Tell me little brat, you would have killed me if you had the slightest chance, wouldn’t you? In fact, you’re probably thinking about it right now.”

Our cab had already arrived, so we got in and headed straight for Reno’s Boutique — one of the biggest in New York. I’d only heard about the place from Marielle, but stepping inside was something else entirely. The glass walls gleamed, the scent of expensive perfume filled the air, and designer dresses shimmered under the warm lights. I ran my fingers across one of them, smiling a little for the first time in days. Tessa and I started browsing through the racks. When we reached the trousers section, I picked a few to try on — and that was when I saw her. Marielle. She was clinging to Adrian’s arm like her life depended on it, laughing too loudly, too sweetly. The moment her eyes met mine, he

"It turns out your suspicions about her were true. She is more dangerous than anyone could ever imagine." As Rio listened intently, Mario continued to disclose unsettling details. The necklace they had been investigating was traced back to a man named Dimitri Rossi, a former employee of Romano Pharmaceuticals. Mario believed Elena harbored a vendetta against the company and was plotting something sinister. Though he lacked all the specifics, Mario expressed hope in his ability to gather more information by visiting a colleague of Dimitri's.

“Try me.” It took a moment, but Renata finally sat back in her chair. Attendants came around and quickly dealt with the glass shards, replacing all the table settings. “Is it true?” Valentina asked, her voice cracking. “Is Roman dead?” Giovanni nodded. Antonio shot up from his chair, his eyes alight. “You did it?” he accused as he glared at Domenico. Domenico reached over and brushed the hair back from my collarbone, exposing the elegant script of his name. “He hurt what’s mine.”