Donnie X Mikey Novels & Stories

It might be something else. “Okay.. I guess we will leave you two to it..” I said and attempted to leave with Natalia, but Mateo held me back. “Zade, this is my brother, Doug, I am Mateo, and this here is my brother's girlfriend. We are all acquainted with Mikey here. I see he is too stunned to speak, huh?” Mikey nodded slowly and managed to force a smile. “Oh, hi everybody.” He waved at us. Everything about him was screaming Gay, it was so obvious!

Xavier slowly raised his dark, bottomless eyes, directing a freezing, razor-sharp glare that pinned Donnie straight against the back of his chair. Donnie immediately forced a bright, comforting smile, trying to look as reassuring as a doting aunt. "If you're dealing with something, just tell me. Maybe I can help ease your mind?" Xavier’s heavy brows knitted into a dangerous line. "When exactly did you become such a sniveling coward?" Donnie felt a massive wave of injustice hit him. "Look, you have no idea how terrifying you look right now. I'm genuinely wondering if I’ll make it out of this room alive tonight."

Mike must be so lucky. Back in the rehabilitation center Rose is leaving Mike, she keeps on staring at the center (exhales deeply) Then she cried and remembers the past when her father is alive and how it die by suicide, then for a long minutes she drives back home. As Mike observed other mates he noticed one of the participants named Dino, a guy who always holds a teddy bear but it is almost getting roast Then Mike went closer to him and introduced himself but Dino just looked at him and didn't say any words but still, Mike sits beside him and starts to tell him about how he ended up here.

At least two. My pulse began pounding again, harder now. The throbbing in my head matching its rhythm. “You can’t just—” My voice cracked slightly. I forced it to be steadier. “Do you know who I belong to?” One of the men snorted quietly. “Frank Costello will—” A kick to my stomach cut the sentence in half. I folded forward and screamed. Footsteps echoed somewhere behind me, lighter than the heavy boots I had heard moving around the room earlier.

It looked like they were fighting rather than having fun. They didn't seem to notice the car parking under the roof of the parking lot. So engrossed were they by the fight. Boma recalled them from the family portrait she had seen in Donovan's room back at school. Donovan saw what they were doing and swore under his breath as he killed the engine and exited the car. Boma let herself out of the car, watching in confusion as he stormed towards the pool. The children noticed him approaching and she could see the surprise and fear in their eyes as they realized what was happening.

He smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "Next weekend is our fifth anniversary. Everything they've been preparing at the manor, it's all for you. I want everyone to see that you're the only Donna I'll ever love." A grand celebration. I smiled to myself. That would make what came next even more unforgettable. "Alright. Then go." "My baby is so understanding." Damian lowered his head and kissed my forehead. "I'm leaving now. It's almost time. I can't keep them waiting too long." Was it because he couldn't keep them waiting?

The fragile peace they’d been living in for the past week and a half felt like thin ice—beautiful on the surface, but ready to crack with one wrong step. “Yo, boss lady,” Mikey called from across the bay, his voice cracking with that awkward teenage enthusiasm. The nineteen-year-old prospect was sprawled dramatically across a workbench, pretending to fan himself with an oily rag. “If you keep making these bikes sound like angry demons, I’m gonna start thinking you sold your soul to the devil. Or worse—Reaper’s dick.”

"When you were looking at that magazine, your eyes were glued to this ring. Couldn't look away." "So I bought it for you." There was a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He had no idea I'd only stared at the ring so he could pay off his debt faster. The cold of the diamond crept up my finger and into my chest. I shivered. But he didn't need my help. Did he? The voice on the phone had just called him Don. The Angelo I knew was a broke kid drowning in mob debt. What a joke. "Three whole years," My voice came out cold. "A Don playing dirt-poor with me. Was it fun?"

Damian and I would be taking Communion the same week — stones tied to our ankles, off the boat, into a part of the ocean nobody finds. I smiled. I stood up. Took the cigar out of his hand. "You're old. I think cigars aren't really your thing anymore." "You don't have a lot of time. That's why you're rushing. That's why you led with your hand." "Never let your enemy know what you're thinking. You taught Lorenzo that, didn't you?" The old Don's face stopped moving. He probably hadn't expected the same young woman who'd once knelt in front of him to be lecturing him as Donna of his own family.

He looked terrible. Unshaven. Bloodshot eyes. Wrinkled suit. The once‑powerful Don now looked like a homeless man. “Valentina,” he said. His voice was barely there. I glanced up. Then back at my papers. “Please sit, Don De Luca,” Vincent said, gesturing to the chair across from me. Alessandro didn’t sit. He walked straight to me. “Valentina. I need to talk to you. Alone.” “There’s nothing to talk about. Please sit. Let’s begin.”