Donatello 2012 Novels & Stories

“Sayonara Sato.” “Karera wa Anata o neratte iru, Don Antonio (They're coming for you, Don Antonio).” Kenji sneered in his foreign dialect before letting out a gruesome painful scream as the torture began. ° ° ° “Run a background check on that girl and bring her to me.” Antonio ordered his right hand man, Bruno. “The badass who shot Sato?” Antonio didn't respond to his theatrical question. “As you wish.” Bruno playfully saluted the boss and strutted out to carry out his instructions.

My dad gritted his teeth against one another and Don Luciano chuckled, his voice sending goosebumps all over my body. "I suspected you might try something like that so I asked my bodyguards to keep your sons in check." My dad's jaw tightened at his words while I glared at Don Luciano. "Tell your men to release my brothers. I do not want or like you, hurting my family." "Oh, bambina mia, I knew you would show up." before I could blink, Don Luciano grabbed my arm and dragged me into a hug as my blood turned cold. What the fuck! My parents were here, watching. Was he now insane that he could no longer control himself in public?

Another huff with a roll of his eyes and he squatted down in front of me, setting the other bottle down and twisting the top from the Powerade. “Drink this, or I’ll make you drink it.” I stared at the bottle, unable to respond. For some reason I couldn’t shake it off. I’d been stupid to think that my fate was so far from Elio’s. Ella Delgado was a nobody who wouldn’t be missed if she were killed or sold as a sex slave. Fire burned my skin, and I drew in a hissing breath of surprise. Domenico’s hand rested on my neck, thumb moving across my jaw, tilting my head back.

I opened it without a word. A diamond necklace. Flawless, expensive, with a huge, dripping cut—must be hundreds of carats. Must also cost a fortune. I touched the stone lightly, feeling the sharp edges press into my fingertips. The diamonds sparkled. Unlike me. "Say thank you," Wilbet said, watching me closely. I lifted my gaze, my voice empty and hollow. "Thank you." "Good. Now put it on and make sure you wear it tonight. I want to show off my wife to the world."

“These people are way too into Ninja Turtles, bro.” Before the Alabama brothers could embarrass Valerian any more, the door swung open, revealing the slickest-looking guy I’d ever laid eyes on—bright, almost platinum blond hair swept back, small round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His face looked like some Renaissance artist had chiseled it from marble. He wore a tailored blazer over a dark gray turtleneck, slim slacks, and bright white high-top sneakers. I did a double-take when I spotted the Prada logo on the side of the shoes. Everything about him screamed money and total self-assurance. Who the hell was this guy? The man—Donatello, obviously—smiled. “Valerian. My friend.” He

Rossi was the type of guy that won’t leave alone even if it’s years, he always gets his livk back but that won’t happen if I kill him before then. Donatello brings out a finger-cutting board from our store of numerous torture weapon. The colour in Silvester’s face washes out as soon as he sights the cutter. I watch as he screams and scrambles in fear while rattling his chain to try and get away from Donatello as fast as possible. “Tell me, and you won’t a finger and you have a lot of those….” I smirk. He screams. “You fucker!” Donatello forces his hand open and places his pinky finger on the board, without wasting time he slams the cutter down.

Sofia wasn't alone. Donato Vallocchi stood by the balcony doors, his silhouette framed by the rain-lashed glass of the city skyline. He looked like a statue of refined greed, his suit immaculate even in the gloom. He held a glass of dark liquid, swirling it with the casual arrogance of a man who already owned the room. "Dante," Donato said, his voice smooth as oil. "You’ve spent so much time building walls that you forgot the most dangerous enemy is the one who knows how to open the gate."

"What's the deal now? Heard you're returning to Italy. That's peak entertainment." The other danger sitting beside me cocked his head. "Careful what you hear next, Donatello. It might not be as entertaining as you think." No humour, plain and straight warning. Donatello looked offended as his chest raised up and down with an irritated expression on his face as he pressed his lips together. "Still," he mocked. "You realise if you leave Russia what it'll cost, right?"

Twenty The charity event that Donatello was forcing me to go with him to was for inner city youth. He dropped off a dress for me to wear, and picked me up at my apartment. “Are you ready to go?” he asked when I came out wearing it. “I’m ready,” I said, “but I hate this dress.” The dress was red, extremely low-cut, and the black heels that I was wearing were already killing my feet. “You look beautiful.” Donatello took my arm and kissed me on both cheeks.

(Fiesty slut isn't she what I wouldn't pay to be the one fucking this virgin pussy) the man said cruelly. She flinched at his words and she felt him stroking her thighs as he struggled against the next mans grip. " Basta che ora appartiene a Leonardo e non deve essere toccata, a meno che tu non voglia spiegare al don che hai rovinato il suo regalo di compleanno"(Thats enough she belongs to Leonardo now and is not to be touched, this is unless you want to explain to the don that you ruined his birthday gift) the other man said.