Donatello Raphael Novels & Stories

I am a Don's heir as well but never in my life did I see or even think of something like this. There are fifteen men tied up and kneeling before Raphael. He questions them while punching the living shit out of their body's. " Where is she?" he screams at one of them but the guy just laughs and before I can interfer he has a bullet through his head, right between his eyes. Raphael moves to the next in line, his is covered in blood and sweat, his face red his nostrils are flaring. " Same question, where is she?!" he spats. " Not here" the man smirks.

He quickly apologized. “My men have been trained under me for many years. They can accomplish almost everything without requiring my assistance.” “I did not mean to doubt you, boss.” Donatello did not say anything. He knew Marcello too well to doubt him. The young man had been with him for years, making him one of the most trusted aides. Don knew that if he had to spare anyone, it would undoubtedly be Marcello, given his attachment and loyalty to him throughout the years. “Start the damn vehicle.” Donatello said before resting his back into the seat.

Lorenzo, Mariano, Gianna, each one silent, watching as the screen bloomed to life. A chamber bathed in candlelight appeared and there he was, Donatello. His face, once polished cruelty, was now distorted. Berlin had marked him. Scars webbed across his left cheek and jaw. The flesh had been stitched poorly, cruelly. But his eyes… those hadn’t changed. Still glacial. Still dead. He smiled. “Hello, Talana.” Gianna recoiled. Lorenzo’s knuckles whitened on the desk. “I was going to send roses. But fire seemed more fitting.”

Donatello Constantini stared down the barrel of the gun that was pointing at his head, taking his eye off for a second to look down at the gun that was pointing to the heart of his enemy, Rafael De Luca. This war between the two families had been brutal and long standing and honestly, Donatello was tired of it. They both had buried enough men, enough friends and enough family; personally, he would be glad to call a truce. His problem, he didn’t trust the man standing across from him; but mafia men didn’t trust easily either. Truth be told, no mafia trusted a rival family; that just wouldn’t happen.

The dominance in his eyes made my breathing hitch, and his amused eyebrow raised at my reaction. "Ian will also be coming with us in case anything goes wrong, which it won't because I'm the best" He smiled proudly with a playful glint in his eye, and I chuckled, but his big smile soon faded, turning into a slight smirk. "You look so pretty" He admitted. "Going soft on me again Mr. Russo?" I teased, running my hands all over his chest, tracing the tattoos that were visible through his shirt. A few buttons were undone, and a tattoo peaked out that said 'sedurre e distruggere' Written in cursive.

“Try me.” It took a moment, but Renata finally sat back in her chair. Attendants came around and quickly dealt with the glass shards, replacing all the table settings. “Is it true?” Valentina asked, her voice cracking. “Is Roman dead?” Giovanni nodded. Antonio shot up from his chair, his eyes alight. “You did it?” he accused as he glared at Domenico. Domenico reached over and brushed the hair back from my collarbone, exposing the elegant script of his name. “He hurt what’s mine.”

He was going to reward him for being a very good dog, and what better way to infuriate my father, than by ruining his promise. He probably promised Giovanni that no harm would come to him. I wonder how mad he will be, when I finally send Giovanni's body to him in a bag. "Oh, you'll definitely be out of here soon enough!" I grinned down at him maliciously. Normally very poised and composed, Giovanni would usually hide behind my father's protection, which always made him feel untouchable. He was the right hand man to the infamous Donatello afterall, who was there to be afraid of?

Donatello fell in the floor and the blade was dropped. Soon after that, Miller took the dropped blade. Miller was more skilled that Donatello in the way of fighting. So there was no way Miller would lose against that boy. Miller quickly charged toward Donatello and stabbed his back. Donatello screamed as the blade pierced on his back. Miller’s attack did not end that fast. Knowing that his wife was dying and also his destroyed brewery, he expressed all pf his anger and madness at Donatello. Miller mercilessly stabbed Donatello several times and did not give him a break.

“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

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?”