Dominic Moretti Mga Nobela at Kwento

While we are at it, I can't help the curiosity I feel, and I believe Katie is the best person to ask this from. “Uhm, Katie, I have a question.” “Alright, Luna. Go ahead.” “Uhm there's this Alpha next to Alpha Stark. He's called Tristan. Do you know anything about him?” “Alpha Tristan?” Katie asked with a raised brow. My heart skipped as if she suspected me. “Yes,” I replied boldly.

Adam uttered, letting out a loud chuckle. I have known Adam for a long time and I knew he was always full of himself and he wouldn't show up here if he wasn't up to something. And I couldn't help but wonder what it was that he had going on. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction that he craved. “Fallen? I am Dominic Moreno, and I don't fall that easily, and you would need a whole lot more than this to bring me down,” I retorted. “We'll see about that,” Adam said.

“He’s already in contact with several of our former enemies. Vassili. Ortega. Even the remnants of the Dublin Syndicate.” Dominic sipped slowly. “Good. Let them follow the scent of fear. Let them remember the name Moretti.” Cain hesitated. “And if Lucien turns on you?” “He won’t,” Dominic said, eyes darkening. “Because if he does, I’ll finish the job myself.” Now – Back at the Warehouse A barrage of gunfire ripped through the silence, glass shattering above as bullets tore through the rusted steel. Alex ducked instinctively behind a concrete column, returning fire as Matteo yelled orders into his earpiece.

"Melissa will know her place, so you better get your act together. You owe it to this family to think smart and do what's best for the Moretti name." Dominic leaned against his Louis Vuitton leather desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He spoke with disgust. "Smart? You mean giving up my happiness, just like you gave up hers? I won't make your mistakes. No... they were crimes you did. I won't trade my love for business deals or your damn money."

And god, Alessio looked like he was fracturing apart right there in front of him. Luca’s eyes met Alessio’s, calm despite the gun pressed to his temple. Dominik’s smirk only sharpened, his grip unbothered, like he already knew the outcome, like he’d already won. “Come on, Moretti,” Dominik purred, fingers tightening in Luca’s hair. “Show me what you really are. Save your precious boytoy, or save the man who’s bled for you. What’s it gonna be?”

Maybe I’m just overthinking this whole situation, Dominic is a delusional person. I laid back down,waiting for him to come out so I could go in to freshen up. After waiting for almost an hour, he finally came out. There was a white towel wrapped around his waist. His abs were on full display. The view was jaw dropping,why was this man always so hot and sexy that it’s becoming so hard to hate something like this. “You know! I like it when you stare at me” he says, bringing my attention back to his handsome face.

Carlos asked shakily but he didn't wait for Mattia to reply before he continues " Maximo Santino is a wanted criminal in every countries. You can't include him in this ... " " And who else is more competent? " Mattia yell suddenly, jolting the two other men. He sighed roughly as he pulled off his glasses before he continues smoothly as if he never yelled out. " Konstantin Dmitri is a Russian Mafia Boss, what is wrong in it if I call in the sadistic Italian Mafia Boss into this? Do you both have any other options? " Minutes passes slowly without Mattia getting any response. He stood up from the chair he sat on and Walk away from the Long table.

"After the Moretti family fell, her income came from a secondary card I gave her. Where did she get the money?" "We're not sure about that," Marco said, then paused. "Don, there's something else… Miss Sienna said she wants to see you." "Get out." Dominic's voice was as cold as ice. "Tell her to get lost. I never want to see her again." Marco nodded, about to leave, when Dominic spoke again. "Wait." He stood up and walked to the window. The Manhattan skyline glittered outside, a blaze of lights, but his eyes were dark.

Like a brick wall. “I had a meeting last night,” he finally said. “With Giovanni Moretti.” Ice trickled down my spine at the sound of his name. I masked the reaction. “Congrats. You two braid each other’s hair?” He cocked a brow, unamused. I crossed my arms, the oversized fabric of my shirt tightening around me. “Whatever this is, save it. I’m calling Marco.” A flicker of something dark crossed Dominic’s face not anger exactly, but something colder. More dangerous. His lips curved, slow and humorless.

The ring of black raincoats parted. Dominic Moretti stepped into the light. He didn't look like a man who’d just ordered a murder; he looked like a CEO checking a late-night shipment. He buttoned his overcoat, his silhouette swallowing the glare of the searchlights. "Boss," Hugo Sidney grunted, the slide of his shotgun echoing in the dead air. "Want me to erase the glitch?" Dominic raised a gloved hand. Silence followed—absolute and immediate. He stood inches from her, a predator observing a particularly stubborn piece of prey.