Donatello Rottmnt Novels & Stories

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."

And no Jonas. “Shit!” Rocco barrels for Dakor, punches brutal and angry. Dakor is a bleeding mess as Rocco backs off. “L’hai ucciso, pezzo di merda!” “I told you, Papa!” Ferrari wheels, close enough to rub Godfather’s hand. “You should have sent Rocco.” Nephillim drags a hand over his face. Don of the Romanov familia. “What did you do?”

Dante said calmly “I believe that we have organized it well enough for you to be satisfied alongside the other partners, shareholders, and ‘friends’. Don’t worry, we won’t have a sniper pointed at you, by the way” Giovanni clenched his fist, but said nothing as he took a step back, followed by another man, and judging by Leo and Aunt Gabriella’s glares, I could tell that it was Mattia. The men walked toward a table, and nodding at the bartender, the man brought them two glasses.

(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.

His body arched off the table. Nothing. "Again! Clear!" This time the monitor beeped. Irregular, but there. I exhaled and my hands finally started shaking. The door opened and a woman walked in. Tall, elegant, wearing heels that cost more than my rent. "Dr. Rosabella Romano. Neurosurgeon." Her eyes scanned the wound. "L1 vertebra. Clean stabilization work. You know what you're doing." "Can you fix it?" "Here? No. But I can prevent further damage until we relocate him.

It was a conquest, suspended between death and a pleasure so sharp it felt like pain. "You're mine, Nora," he said, biting my neck as he came. Ding. The sound of the shop's bell snapped me back to the present. I looked up. A woman was standing in the doorway. Bianca Torrino. She wore a white Valentino dress, a pearl necklace gleaming under the lights. She wasn't here to buy art. I could see it in her eyes. She was here to mark her territory. "So this is Damon's little painter?" she said, looking me up and down like I was a piece of furniture. "I hear you're good at fixing old things."

More or less, it was something that I would have paid the world to just avoid and get out of; but at this point, after finding out who I was and what everyone has been trying to do to be in my place or to either get rid of me, I knew that there was no way that we were going to get out of this if not this war. “Back inside the rat hole that they came out of.” Donatello said calmly, “though we have an infestation, I must admit that much, I am guessing that a little extermination is required. And judging by the circumstance, I think that you might use all the help that you can get.”

Forever. “There’s something much more important, Norah.” She straightens up in her chair and I look around. We’re seated at the outer part of the bar, under a large umbrella and occupying a cute wooden round table. I don’t think we should be talking about all of this literally just beside the street. But the weather is nice today and we both want to enjoy it without worrying about nosy strangers. “Well, the chief revealed that Mark was actually poisoned with the belladonna extract you gave me that night. And Oliver’s fingerprints were found on the vile,” I explain.

“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.

to jet black and his skin was a beautiful copper tan. Did I get kidnapped by a model? I immediately jumped up and went to pull my gun from my holster only to realize it wasn’t there, “Who the fuck are you? Where am I? Where is my gun? Listen, just let me go. I don’t have anything for you! Let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone!” I was backing away from the man when I realized there were two more massive men standing behind the couch I had been laying on. “Uhh, ma’am, I found you just outside my property. You were knocked unconscious so I brought you here and my,” his eyes darted to the smaller of the two men, “friend here, Connelly, patched up that nasty wound on the back of your head. I’