Novel & Cerita Donnie X Mikey

Sienna, covered in kiss marks, leaned against Vincenzo’s chest as if marking her territory. Meanwhile, I lay in a hospital bed, hooked to an IV, drugged, stitched up, and hanging by a thread. At that moment, Renato Moretti—the original Don of the Moretti empire—still didn’t know the full truth. “Isabella,” he said gently, “Vincenzo… he’s a good kid at heart. “You’ve been together so many years. Why not give him another chance? As long as I’m here, no one can take your place in this family.”

He said and the line went dead. “Mike is dead?” “Yeah?” He was skeptical. “When?” “Tonight.” “Damn…” “What?” “He was my key evidence.” “Ours too!” Donovan blurted before Dustin’s statement hit him. “Wait what?” They chorused and Dustin explained it all to Donovan who in turn filled up the missing parts of Dustin’s plan. It turned out they were both on the same side. He called Ellie’s phone according to Dustin’s request. “Donnie?” “Baby girl, I know how we can solve the case.”

Nori whispered. I nudge him with my elbow, but Nori acted as if I pushed him. “Ow!” He said as he cry in pain trying to see if he could get his son’s attention. “Dwadee ish wik, Wuna mwoma ish stwong,” Mikey said. Drake stood up laughing. “Mikey, are you forgetting that we should be a team?” Nori asked. Mikey looked at him and gave Nori a big smile and then run to Nori.

He chuckles and looks a bit embarrassed, his ears bright red which added contrast with his striking blue eyes. “Girlfriends, yeah?” “Um… yeah, a few, not an alarming number I assure you.” laughing I say, “relax, captain. I don’t judge.” I try looking around with the corner of my eye for Luke. I could’ve sworn that was him. ••• “Hey, Miss flight attendant,” Donnie calls as I step out of the car. “I had a good time.” “It wasn’t so bad for me, captain.” I quip back.

So I'm not that unfamiliar with the place and the people. Through the glass window, Zoey and I could see Donnie watching the mixer with some files on it. Then someone whispered to Donnie. He then turned towards the window. I waved at Donnie, and he replied and walked out of the room. "That's Donnie," Zoey said. "Yeah, that's Donnie," I replied. "Hey how are you rockstar?" said Donnie. "Okay, how are you," I replied. "And you must be Calliope?" Donnie asked, looking at Zoey curiously.

" The maid bobbed her head and rushed to the cellar. The heavy door groaned open— And a scream tore through the silence. "Don! Something's wrong!! Mrs. Corleone... she's dead! And there's a dead baby beside her!"

He said as he walked towards the door. "And I am Carlos, why don't you sleep food will be brought to you soon" he said and walked out the door, she felt light headed all of a sudden and knew something was it the water he gave her. A shaky exhale escaped her. Her stomach turned. The room began to blur. She swayed, blackness tugged on her subconscious, and then it dragged her all the way under. Later in the Don's office Carlos walked in and saw Marco busy with some work as usual, his friend was such a workaholic, he thought. He did not look up when Carlos entered so he sat down at the edge of Marco's table and said.

Michael snapped. "Michael, what exactly makes you dislike this beautiful me?" Lauren said as she drew closer to Michael and danced her fingers on Michael's broad chest. Michael pushed Lauren's body hard, his eyes radiated hatred, it seemed his hand had cast magic and was ready to smash it into Lauren's body. "Master Michael, there is bad news!" cried Doni who revived Michael's emotions. “Quickly tell me what bad news?” Michael asked. "Miss Alexa," Doni answered doubtfully.

Mikey curses and looks around but I guess the coast is clear because he slips in and closes the door behind him, "I need you to make my face bleed somehow. Punch me hard." "What?" He asks, looking at me like I'm the biggest weirdo. Mikey is the slowest one, but he always does what I ask, "Fine, I guess..." He gets his fist ready and I brace myself, but right before he goes to punch me, he stops and grabs his rifle. "I think this is going to be easier," he says and takes it off the sling. I don't think he wants to shoot me, so I lift an eyebrow as I watch him turn it around to hit me with the back of it, "Bring your face closer."

One voice cut through the others like a blade. “…the shipment routes are compromised. If Enzo thinks he can run his own plays behind my back, he’s more stupid than I gave him credit for.” My stomach dropped. That voice. Deep, controlled, laced with quiet fury. I’d only heard it a handful of times—at family dinners Enzo dragged me to, always from across the room. Dante Moretti. Enzo’s father. The Don. I froze, glass halfway to my lips again. What the hell was he doing here? Enzo said this was our night. Private.