Cyrus Petrillo Novels & Stories

A hand landed on my shoulder and I jerked shaking it off. Dad was standing beside me looking at me with anger. "Huh?" I spoke in confusion as I looked at the priest and then my fiancé who looked furious. Why?….. "Do you Sapphire Ronaldo take James Russo as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest repeated for second time. I stilled on my place. The breath knocked out of my chest. I thought I escaped him….but it was all an illusion….

"You'll understand once you read it, Ms. Jayston," Pete said. If what he had discovered hadn't been significant, he wouldn't have met with Nyla in person. As Nyla opened the file, her expression quickly turned grim. She asked, "Are you sure this information is accurate?" Pete nodded confidently and replied, "Of course, Ms. Jayston. I wouldn't charge such a high fee if I weren't certain of the value of my findings." Closing the file, Nyla inquired, "Can you find concrete evidence that Cyrus orchestrated the accident?"

Philip recognized the man, but not the lady, and he was surprised when the man saw him and approached him with the beautiful young lady. "Maestro felipe!" The man said with a smile as he shook hands with Philip. "It's nice to see you again, Dr. Mathew." Philip said with a smile. Dr. Mathew was a big man with medicated eyeglasses and white hair, he was definitely in his sixties perhaps a little older than his father, who was turning sixty. Dr. Mathew was a very intelligent man with a friendly personality and he occupied an important position in the CRUZ company.

Cyrus swung his arm, his fingers wrapping tightly around Panton's throat, lifting him off the ground. Panton's eyes bulged as his arms came crashing on Cyrus' hold around his neck. He kicked his feet in the air, scratching Cyrus' arm, writhing to get him to loosen his hold and allow some air to his lungs. But all his attempts were futile. Cyrus wasn't having any of it. “You had one job. One fucking job!” Cyrus seethed, his voice booming in the closed walls loud and clear. I flinched in fear as the room drowned in suffocation. Panton shouldn't have come here. Fuck. “You had to either get Athena to me, or make sure things go according to the plan.” Cyrus' fingers tightened their grip on Panton

In the process, I was going to fuck her out of my system and forget she ever existed. I took out my phone from my pocket and dialed a number. I hated the man I was about to call but I needed a favor which was rare for me. “Petrakis. I never thought I would see the day I received your call. “ The man on the other end said. “Rossi. Remember that favor you owe me? “ “Straight to business then. You finally want to collect? “ “Yes. A woman is looking for employment in your company. Her name is Hazel Thompson. I want you to cancel her interview. “

"You'll understand once you read it, Ms. Jayston," Pete said. If what he had discovered hadn't been significant, he wouldn't have met with Nyla in person. As Nyla opened the file, her expression quickly turned grim. She asked, "Are you sure this information is accurate?" Pete nodded confidently and replied, "Of course, Ms. Jayston. I wouldn't charge such a high fee if I weren't certain of the value of my findings." Closing the file, Nyla inquired, "Can you find concrete evidence that Cyrus orchestrated the accident?"

Soon my eyes lit up as my interest was piqued. This is one crazy and mean ass motherfucker. I like him. Who doesn't know the Italian Criminal Ciro Russo? I just haven't the interest on find out how crazy he is and what level of craziness. Ciro Russo, age 25, S class inmate of Pelican Bay State prison. He is convicted for attempted murder, armed robbery, breaking and entering, impersonation, drug possession, possession of government owned ammunition and finally assault. Sentenced to twenty years in prison without parole.

Too intimidating for my liking, I thought. "What's on the agenda for today?" Ciro asked, ignoring me entirely. "Some paperwork needs to be finished," Johnny replied. Ciro nodded, took his plate from the microwave, and sat down on a stool. "I’m going up to my room if Clarissa comes back and asks for me," I quickly excused myself. Johnny nodded, then returned to his paperwork. I quickly walked out, not wanting to spend another minute in Ciro's intimidating presence. Ciro was well-built, with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and tattoos covering his arms. The scar on the left side of his face made him look dangerous, but beneath it all, he was undeniably handsome.

Then, I met Cyril. Cyril was a prominent Italian Don, but he was nothing like Damian. Where Damian was all shadow and control, Cyril was elegance and grace. Most importantly, he had a profound respect for my work. We met during a cross-border medical relief project. He didn't just provide the muscle for our security; he’d sit silently in my office late at night, placing a fresh cup of coffee on my desk without saying a word, never daring to interrupt my flow.

"You'll understand once you read it, Ms. Jayston," Pete said. If what he had discovered hadn't been significant, he wouldn't have met with Nyla in person. As Nyla opened the file, her expression quickly turned grim. She asked, "Are you sure this information is accurate?" Pete nodded confidently and replied, "Of course, Ms. Jayston. I wouldn't charge such a high fee if I weren't certain of the value of my findings." Closing the file, Nyla inquired, "Can you find concrete evidence that Cyrus orchestrated the accident?"