Donatello Rottmnt Fanart Novels & Stories

I cleared my throat, and wrapping my arm around Aurora, I smiled at the woman. “I am Dante D’Angelo” I said introducing myself. “Natalie Brooke” she said, nodding at me. I looked down at Aurora and kissed her temple, smirking when I caught sight of the woman who had her eyes on us. “I’ll be leaving you alone with the ladies, yeah?” I whispered to her, noticing that a few women were approaching. “Alright, just try staying away from trouble, okay?” She asked, looking me in the eye. I nodded and motioned for Leonardo to come and follow me, and understanding where I was going, Leonardo gulped down his scotch before walking toward the lounge where our fathers were sitting.

Donatello didn’t say a word as he looked at the four of us. “You knew of this, didn’t you?” Ariana asked her son. Donatello didn’t respond, and nodding, Ariana looked at Katerina “you two are going to make the biggest mistake of your life. Domenico is not like the other elders that you fought, and you two are not Lycans who can fight him back the way he does…”

I don't care if anyone hears me. I rip open the door and storm out into the hallway, practically snarling with rage. My boots slap against the floor like they might be the only thing keeping me grounded. And then there’s a face. It's a goddamn blur at first. A round, unrecognizable blob of a face. But the clothes.. those fucking clothes I know them. I know this shit. This was Donatello, my consigliere. I could smell the bastard’s cologne from a mile away.

My life was reduced to digits. “Hundred.” Gasps rippled. My eyes darted to the front row, and my blood iced. Dante Moretti. The name alone could silence a room. He sat casually, one leg crossed, his hand raised in lazy dominance. His sadistic cold blue eyes lingering on me with lust, his dark brown hair styled neatly. Everyone knows him—the most feared mafia in Italy. Brutal. Merciless. A handsome devil cloaked in silk suits. No. No, not him. Anyone but him.

“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

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.”

I couldn’t help but remember Donatello telling me that he believed that he saw him somewhere, and hearing what Sienna was telling me, I couldn’t help but believe that he was indeed using magic. Donatello was not the type to forget who a person was. If anything, he was almost always very accurate when it came to his memory of faces. It was one of the reasons why he was dangerous when angered. He was not a man to be messed with nor was he the type to allow random mistakes to just slide. If anything, he would be sure to make those who hurt him or his loved ones pay if he simply caught their scent.

I didn't pay attention to the action and tried it on as I stood in front of the mirror, unable to believe how sexy I looked. My boobs and ass could be seen perfectly through the lingerie and the white panties I wore framed the sexuality. I looked hot, but it was too revealing for me, so I asked for another. All through the sales attendant handing me lingerie, she made sure to stay some distance away from me like she was scared I would bite her or something. I dug my nails into my palm, knowing immediately that this was Don Luciano's handiwork. Imagine I decided to make friends with someone and then he made an appearance beside me, would this have been how they would all run from me?

he raised his voice Donatello rose from his seat, as he slammed his fist on the bar. "You dare raise your voice at me?" he thundered, his voice echoing through the jet. Viktor stepped forward, his voice calm and soothing. "Don, Don, please. We need to get to Italy before anything else. We can discuss this later." Donatello's chest heaved with anger, but he took a deep breath, composing himself. "Hmmm," he muttered, while still staring at Antonio's face. "Let's go."

“I have told you what to do and you are expected to carry it out.” “Yes, boss.” Marcello said and turned to go. When he was out of the door, Donatello looked down at his hand and sighed. It was still bleeding, but he did not mind. As he walked towards his table, he heard the door open. “What the fuck do you want this time?” he yelled as he turned. “Nothing much, just you.” a feminine voice answered When Don caught sight of the person, his hand quickly went to his back, but it was too late, she had already seen it.