Donatello Raphael Novels & Stories

“Don’t get too comfortable… you’ve got her brainwashed! She loves me! We have history!” Marcello let out a soft chuckle, the sound dripping with contempt for an insect. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace, and leaned down to press a possessive kiss to my forehead. “But you’re out of the game.” “Raphael Russo, you’re a toad groveling at my wife’s feet. It’s pathetic.” The crowd of onlookers and gallery staff let out a ripple of quiet laughter. 【Damn! So satisfying! The Don doesn't even need to swear to destroy someone!】

My eyes widen, even just catching a glimpse of what Donatello has done to people made me nauseous just seeing them so to think that he could stand all of that is insane, what the hell did they feed him? “But did you find out about the history between the two of you?” He scoffs. “We met when his school came to give charity at the slums back in Italy, he was the kid that I partnered with to clean up the streets.” “What are the odds….” I mumble to myself. He takes off his shirt and I eye the scars that litter his sculptured body. “So how did Rossi send him to keep tabs on him when he also is part of another gang.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here with me. Your mother is going to come out of hiding and I am going to make her mine.” “You’re going to make her yours?” I said. “You’re married. He smiled. “Not any longer.” My stomach churned. “Not any longer? What does that mean?” “That means that I’ve taken care of my wife,” Donatello said, “you don’t need to worry about that. All I need is for you to be a good girl and then I can have the family that I always dreamed of.” I glared at him. “You have a son. Nero. Or have you forgotten?”

“What does he want?” Donatello was the don of his little syndicate in Detroit, who was trying to make a name for himself after disbanding from the Alfa Nove, the group of nine heads of the Italian mafia groups that were spread throughout the US. He used to be one of my father’s old subordinates, but after my father had been killed by the Bratvas, I didn’t trust anyone outside of the people I already knew would die for me and Donatello wasn’t one of them.

The man on the chair immediately starts to shake and I bit back my disgust when I notice he wets himself. Enzo sighs, shaking his head. “That’s the fourth time in thirty minutes.” The man in question sobs, although it is muffled because of the gag in his mouth. “What have you gotten so far?” “A new Monterro is in charge of our dealings. It’s the name I am looking for.” I take in the man, noting Enzo had already removed five of his fingers and from the way his legs were bent, Enzo had broken his knees too. “He is afraid of you. When I mentioned your name, he wet himself. And he did so again when you walked in.”

Kevin asked. “Well, I was thinking about the water and electricity; what do you guys think?” Alessandro asked. “Whatever you want, Mancini,” they said together. He began questioning Donatello. “Why did you go after my wife?” he asked again. “Haha… I want to fuck her so hard that she won’t be able to trust another—" Before Donatello could finish, Alessandro poured water over him and took the electric cable. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” Alessandro shouted. Donatello just laughed as Alessandro shot him in the leg.

The Asian dons cowered before me, the eastern dons completely submitted to my power, only one don refused to bow to me, he even attacked and stole all my business so I made him my target. Out enmity started when he crossed me and I started to hunt him down with the aim to teach him a lesson. Donatello going against me was suicide in the mafia world, no matter how much he ran and hid away, it was known that I would eventually catch him and kill him, but he was daring enough to plant a spy in my home and take a woman I desired, his death sentence was already signed, I could ignore his hold on Claire, go on a full on battle with him by alerting my men over with a push of a hidden button on my w

Aunt Alessia said warmly, shaking her head as she reached for her coffee, “Nothing says good morning like my nephews threatening and insulting one another.” Vincenzo sighed from the head of the table, “Eat your breakfast,” he said sharply. “Preferably without planning felonies before nine in the morning.” Across the table, Raphael finally looked up. His gaze slid toward Dante first, “You still owe me fifty thousand,” he said calmly. Dante frowned instantly, “For what?” Raphael took a slow sip of coffee, “For betting that idiot with the crooked nose could outrun Adriano,” he replied flatly. “He lasted four seconds.”

I smiled. *** Donatello was a genius and a serial killer, a deadly combination. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, and weighing over three hundred pounds, he was someone who always stood out in any crowd. For such a big man, he had the face of a seventeen-year-old teenager. No one would ever suspect the large friendly man with a child's face who worked as a security man at the University of Los Angeles was the most notorious killer in the state.

“You can’t just decide that for me. I-I have a life…” Roman’s eyes narrowed, and for the first time, I felt the true weight of who he was. This wasn’t just my brother’s best friend. This was someone powerful, feared… I didn't know who exactly but even though I've been trying to fool myself, it was obvious now. He was a dangerous man. “You have no life outside of this now,” he said quietly. “The men who killed Viktor…they will come for you. You carry his blood. His name. If you walk away, you die.”