Novel & Cerita Don Quijote

he added harshly, the words laced with anger. I snapped back. “I’m not cheating! Yes, I was angry. Yes, I wanted to make you regret hurting me. But I’d never go that far. I wouldn’t bring another man into this. That’s not who I am.” Marco wasn’t satisfied. He leaned in closer, his voice a little colder. “The mayor’s son. Jairo. Isn’t that his name?” he asked, mocking me with his tone. I bit my lip, not wanting to say anything. Not wanting to give him more reasons to be jealous.

“It was him. But I didn’t know you were related. I swear.” Luciano studied her. He knew she was telling the truth. After torturing thousands of men to find out the truth all his time as Don, he knew when a person was lying, and Araceli had that rare air of sincerity. He’d never seen it before—definitely not in their world. She didn’t belong here. But too bad for her because she’d wandered in. And now she was his. He smiled faintly. “My brother didn’t want you. Do you know why?”

On my own part. “Yes you are.” I snorted. “Sarcam?” “No.” I shook my head. “Cam sar.” I didn't intend to be funny but the strange man bursted into laughter as he threw his head backwards laughing at my lame joke. Although his eyes squinted but I could see the genuine joy in them as his face lit — a harsh remainder of the fact that nothing was going on well in my life. I was trapped in this unknown place. Perhaps I could ask him for a location or something and he should be able to tell me something. But that would give away the fact that I was probably lost here. I wasn't sure madam Livia would approve of that and I didn't trust him yet.

Marriage with him was like selling myself to the devil. Dante Romano, the don of La corona silenziosa—the silent crown. There were rumors he had killed his entire family just to get the Don position. Personally, it didn’t make sense for a fourteen-year-old kid to kill his entire family for a position. But rumors are rumors, which have slight truths in them at the very least. Two truths, one lie. I looked at him and at the paper. “I am never getting married to you.” “You say it like you have a choice or something?”

I stood still and continued to assume it was one of his usual pranks. His gaze from his grey eyes wasn't piercing as usual; they didn't cause anxiety, and neither did they show care. They exuded something different. “I…” he started but didn't get the chance to finish. “What the hell is going on here?” The person called out with authority and we both turned. Is Don Antonio a twin? From the way he sounded, I knew it was Don Antonio. I quickly stepped away. I took hurried footsteps towards Don Antonio and his twin called. “Giulia, I'm not done with you yet. I didn't ask you to leave.” His voice was louder this time.

It wasn't Lucas's voice on the other end, but a burst of rough laughter. "The Don’s got some moves. Bella finally agreed to sign over the Gallo shares," a gravelly voice said. One of Lucas’s top guys. "If it weren’t for Miss Sofia whispering in the Don’s ear every day, saying Bella’s mother raised her wrong, that all she cares about is power, the Don would’ve never made up his mind."

Hope flashed across Nico's face. "Luca," he whispered, reaching out. "My boy." Luca moved back before Nico could touch him. He was five, dressed in a black suit my mother's tailor had made, but he looked steadier than most men in the room. "Do not call me that," he said. "My father died the night he denied me in front of strangers and watched them beat my mother. You are Don Varrone. Nothing more." Nico made a broken sound.

His red devilish glare spells fear and doom to anyone he sets his sights on. Shocked and confused. John is unable to process what he is seeing: another Pentalium member! “If Rolfe is a Zonian, then Duke Lenato is too!” This information about the Einherjars being Pentalium members mustn’t die with him. John tries to shimmy or pull his way out, but his left hand won’t let him go from the weight of the whole earth pinning him. Suddenly, he felt the firebomb beneath him.

’ ‘That is from a book called Robinson Crusoe, about a man stuck on a desert island who finds a friend who cannot speak English. ‘So why you call me dat? I cans speak inglish.’ ‘Only just.’ ‘What?’ ‘Don’t mind me, Don Don, I don’t mean anything by it. You really are my world now.’ ‘Now you go again, dis don, don, don, don, don, I tell you, I don’ tink I like it.’ ‘Oh, shut up, here’s another pile of money to eat.’

Everyone in the mafia world whispered the same story. The Don of the Santoro family had been with his fiancée for seven years, and she died in a car accident. After her death, he wrote a 10,000-word confession by hand and set up a rescue foundation in her name, saying it was to remember her. He filled the mansion with roses and told everyone they had been my favorite. But only I knew that I had never loved roses, and he had never truly paid attention to what I liked or disliked. Back in Valdoria, Mamma saw the injuries on my body and pulled me into her arms, heartbroken. "You're our precious daughter. How could you let yourself end up like this over a man?"