Dio Brando Novels & Stories

It was a deep cut, probably from a knife, right below his collarbone. "What happened?" My voice was tender. I was so afraid. I had seen him get shot once, and I had seen him hurt before, but I still hadn't gotten used to the mafia life. "It's nothing." Mariano's voice was rough. He was still mad. "I'll stitch it up. It will be fine." "You will do no such thing." I snapped. "Shut up and come to the hospital with me." "No hospitals." "Fine, then I'm calling Dr.Rei." Dr Rei was the doctor for the entire mafia.

he said to himself then pulled away the ugly and scarred mask off his face. "My name is Broderick Alessandro. I'll forever remain the most powerful man in NorthHill," Ba said very strongly and powerfully. Ba is Broderick Alessandro. He had been a genius every since he was young, he learnt coding at a very young age and had helped many companies develop a website but beyound that, he had built a world popular digital product that was competing with the likes of F******k and I*******m.

He stare at the numerous men in the living room for a while before he announced with a grin. " Boss is fine, he will wake up soon " " And the bullet hole? " Marco question " You know Boss would hate any scar in his body " " Oh yeah, I have treated it. There's no way it would leave a scar " The mafia doctor said with a happy smile then he walk away after declaring that anyone can check on Maximo. The Italian Mafia Boss has always been sensitive to his beauty and skin. All through the rough life he had lead, despite the amount of bullets his body had receive, no scar is visible on his body. Why ? Because he had his good doctor who is a specialist on that field.

I'm eager to finish this call and return to what we were doing. "You won't believe who Hazel's mother signed that contract with," he starts, and my heart sinks. That was really quick of Brando to find out. I rise to my feet and swiftly leave the room, not wanting Hazel to overhear my conversation with Brando, even though I know she'll ask about it later. "Go on," I urge him as I step into my office, ready to hear the unsettling news. "She signed the contract with Ezio Mauro, Aldo's son," he answers. My heart skips a beat at the mention of the name. I swallow hard as anger boils inside me.

Brandon continued to taunt Heather, once again making fun of her. "It's none of your business!" "Aren't you afraid that Silva's wife or girlfriend will kill you?" Brandon repeated it. "He doesn't have a girlfriend. This time, I'm sure I'll be Mrs. Silva instead of just ending up with a mistress like Donovan!" "Huh, how quickly did you forget the Chad Donovan you adored? If I knew this, I wouldn't have to worry about finishing him off. Just let him torture you to death!" Brando shouted at the peak of his extreme frustration until he admitted that he was the natural killer of Chad Donovan.

he dropped his hands and tried to get up. "On your knees!" Vini shouted, and I gestured for him to calm down. "Do you know who I am?" I asked. The man looked familiar, like I had seen him somewhere, although I couldn't place him. "Of course, I know who you are. You are Dominic Montego, the Don of the Montego empire." "And you are?" Clearly, the man knew all about me while I knew nothing about him. His knowledge of me had me curious. "I didn't know that my fame had reached far and wide." I looked around the deserted landscape.

I hit the Bluetooth and listen to the phone ring, a male answers, “Crescent Moon, this is Jackson, how can I help you?” I clear my throat, “Former Alpha Braddock there?” I listen as he places the phone down and yells out, “Dad it’s for you.” I wait and listen as heavy foot falls hit the flooring and a deep baritone voice speaks, “this is Braddock.” I gulp down the lump that’s just formed in my throat, “Hello sir, my name is Alpha Christov,” a growl erupts from his throat and then silence, “you still there?” He grunts, “what do you want Alpha Christov?”

She’s thrown me off my game completely. “Who is she?” Alessandro asks. Wouldn’t I like to know that too? “Let’s talk about Marcello. What if he doesn’t come for us first?” I say. “Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been a thorn in his side for quite a while,” Brando says. “He’s doing all what he’s doing to kill you because he knows you’re going to kill him if he doesn’t get to you first.”

" Seeing how heartbreakingly mature Brando Falcone had become, Salvatore suddenly slapped himself hard across the face. "It's my fault. All of it! If I hadn't been such a fool back then, Brando would've had the gentlest Madre in the world. He would've grown up surrounded by love. I destroyed this family with my own hands. I didn't even give you the chance to look at him one last time." The regret twisted through his chest so violently he could barely straighten up. I simply watched him in silence. "You know… Brando really looks like you. Especially his eyes. They're so clear that I can't even bear to look at them," he murmured.

As I sat next to him, Brody poured a drink into a shot glass. "Here," Brody handed me the glass, "have a drink." I drank it in one gulp. He's very friendly. Is he really a mafia boss? "So how was your concert in Brazil, what was it called?" asked Brody, smoking his cigar. "Good. We managed to perform very well. The crowd likes us,” I answered stiffly. “Good,” said Uncle Brody, “have you considered my invitation?” "About?" I said, "I'm sorry. Too much has happened to me lately."