Dominic Toretto Novels & Stories

He straightened slowly and turned to face the room, his chest rising and falling as he fought to steady himself. “I’m not getting weak,” he said lowly. “And I’m not letting a whore cloud my judgment.” His eyes moved from one face to the other. “In case any of you are forgetting, I am Rico De Romano. Capo of the Five Territories. Head of I Sette.” The words weren’t just for them. They sounded like a reminder to himself most of all. He spared Valentina a brief, cold look as she remained on the floor, still coughing. Then his gaze returned to Ezio and Sandro.

I didn’t even know the man personally, and yet, here I was, dreading even meeting him. “But there is something that you are going to need to know if you are to be an ally, Donatello.” Alessandro said, looking out the window as the plane touched the ground. My heart raced, and I watched as my mate stood on his feet, hanging up before the door opened. The fact that the pilot didn’t even taxi, and I knew that it was because of the men who were waiting for him. A man entered, the scar on his face was one that made my stomach churn. His tattoos could be seen on his hand, and I raised an eyebrow when Alessandro extended his hand to shake.

I said, and he nodded. “And you?” I asked. The man took a deep breath for a second, clearly debating as he got lost in his thoughts for a second. The man looked like he was going through the mental battle of his life, and though I didn’t understand the reason, I could tell that something happened. “What happened?” “Nothing that we did not expect,” he said, and I frowned in confusion. “Renata got mad at the omega.”

Luciana couldn't help but think he looked like an older anime character - handsome and captivating. "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful damsel," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I am—" he began, but Antonio cut him off. "That's okay, Uncle. I'll take it from here," Antonio said curtly, his eyes flashing with annoyance. He turned to Luciana and said, “it seems you’re the only person who haven’t met him. This is Domenico. He is my uncle.” Domenico smiled. "People call me 'The Butcher,'" he said, his voice dripping with menace. Antonio dropped his fork, as Viktor turned to him.

"Colton, can't say I've heard that name before." Dominic chuckled lightly and took a sip of his drink. He placed the glass back down with a happy sigh. "Why of course you haven't, I'm just a humble casino owner. I, however, know much about you Ace Hernandez." I stared at him with a stoic expression. Is Dominic Colton friend or foe? Either way I wasn't amused by the tone of his voice. Fuck, I hardly liked anyone I just met. So perhaps he is just a sarcastic bastard.

Dominic watches me and not Enzo, “First one is a rat, second has been leaving highly inappropriate messages for my wife, sending his junk, sending her gifts, he thinks he can treat Renata better than me.” “And this is the best you could do?” Enzo asks, his tone cold and distant as he studies the man who is obviously crossing boundaries with Renata. Dom shrugs, his gaze shifting towards the guy. “She asked that my men not kill him and I not to kill him, but have at him, she didn't say anything about you.” One of Dom's men brings me a chair and I settle on his left, watching Enzo while Dom continues to cheese at his phone, undoubtedly at some text message from his wife, he's almost as obsessed

I replied without turning, praying he wouldn’t mention what had happened. But Dominic never played by the rules. He stepped closer, the heat of his body pressing into my back. His fingers grazed my hip, possessive, unhurried, as if he were making a point. Then, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Are you sore?” My breath caught. I had expected him to pretend it never happened—to let it be one mistake buried under professionalism and cold detachment. But Dominic Moretti didn’t bury things. He unearthed them, one deliberate touch at a time.

Cassandra stood right behind him, her arms crossed and her face was already twisted with hatred as usual. Damon stared at my face down to the two babies strapped to my body. Both twins woke up and growled tinily at the same time. The sound across the open space was like a warning. Even the Betas took a small step back. “You returned to me,” Damon said, his voice low and rough, with a carefree tone. “But you came with… babies.”

He clenched his jaw hard and his veins popped out of his neck and forehead. (Translation: Nathan Dominico is behind all of this. He is paternal cousin of Mikhail Igor Gorbachev and you killed his father in encounter when he was trying to steal some really information from us. Nathan wants to take revenge of his father's death and want to rule Italy with his sister Zia.)

I was beginning, slowly, to feel something like peace. It was on one of those mornings, at the Saint Marie Orphanage, that I met Dominic. Dominic Salvatore was, by any objective measure, one of the most powerful men alive, with old-money wealth, global reach, and the kind of name that preceded him into every room. The first time I saw him, he was crouched on the grass helping a small boy who had lost both legs fit the components of a new prosthetic limb, with no ceremony and no audience, just this large, extraordinarily handsome man with his entire attention fixed on the child.