Fabio Novels & Stories

How are they supposed to go up against such a strong enemy? He doesn’t doubt Isabel’s strength, but a male offspring of his uncle wouldn’t be an easy opponent. Now more than ever, he needs to be there for his cousin. “Xavi” “Huh?” “Kill any rogue on sight.”

He thinks about himself and only himself all the time but is nice to most people. Did someone come to mind, because I know one did for me. There's this one fuckboy at my school, Connor Owens, and he's probably the hottest guy in my grade. At least that's what all the girls think. He's tall, has brown hair, tanned skin, and the most mesmerizing bluish-green eyes. He's a really fun person to be around, and he's a pretty smart guy. We're in all the AP classes together.

Another huff with a roll of his eyes and he squatted down in front of me, setting the other bottle down and twisting the top from the Powerade. “Drink this, or I’ll make you drink it.” I stared at the bottle, unable to respond. For some reason I couldn’t shake it off. I’d been stupid to think that my fate was so far from Elio’s. Ella Delgado was a nobody who wouldn’t be missed if she were killed or sold as a sex slave. Fire burned my skin, and I drew in a hissing breath of surprise. Domenico’s hand rested on my neck, thumb moving across my jaw, tilting my head back.

Nigel sniggered, earning a displeased look from the rest of the council. "You talk like you're actually bold enough to deal with Ryan's wrath Lord Nigel," Fabio, the final member of the council finally spoke up. Fabio was very well known for his quiet nature. He would barely say a word during the meetings but when he did, he always sounded very serious. "Oh please Fabio, like he would actually dare to hurt any of us. The child might be brash with his decisions but I doubt he'd be brash enough to go against us directly," Nigel bragged and Fabio scoffed.

Her touch was cold, colder than death itself, yet so oddly comforting. “You’re so close now, Giovanni,” she whispered, leaning into me, her breath cool against my neck. “Everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve suffered for, it’s finally within reach. The young boy's body really did help me. It is a shame that he had lost himself. It is a shame that he fell for my voice. But he came to my benefit. Caleb was his name, wasn't it?”

The deafening silence seemed like it lasted for hours. "Was the food delicious?" she asked out of the blue. He lifted his gaze at her in shock. "Mh?." "I mean dinner, was it nice?." "Oh, sure it was." "Sabina is a very good cook, unlike Zara." "Sorry, which are Sabina and Zara?" Jason asked confused. Sophia smiled knowing he was always never down to earth. "Sabina is the short one, then Zara tall and lanky." "Just like you" he added jokingly.

Luna Isobel stood near the entrance, gaze sharp, unreadable to anyone but me. “I need your help,” she said calmly. “Please follow me. Fabric just arrived, and there are things that I would like you to do before you choose, and before we distribute the rest to the consorts and maids.” “You mean slaves?” I said, looking at the girls, choosing to remind them of their position. None of them said a word, none of them reacted… and the worst part, she didn’t either. It was as if she was trained for this. I glanced once more at Lia, the way her shoulders eased just slightly, whether in relief or frustration I couldn’t tell, then I walked toward the door.

The air in the room suddenly felt humid, and entirely too close. Maria was setting a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. She nodded politely to me. “Good morning, Miss Tiana. Coffee?” “Yes, please, Maria. Thank you,” I managed, my voice sounding strained. I still hadn't moved. At the sound of my voice, Fabio lowered the paper, folding it with deliberate slowness. He turned his head and then swiveled his entire torso, his broad chest fully presented to me. My breath hitched. His chest was covered in a light, dusting of dark hair that arrowed down toward the waistband of his shorts. He had a scar, faint but noticeable, just above his

I once thought I'd marry him, I loved him, I still do, but I am not in love with him, and he is forever bound to Belle Valentino. I am sitting upright on my bed, staring at his name as it flashes through my screen, repeatedly. Relectantly, I pick it up. "Baby." He says, and I grin, immediately switching it to face time. "Marcello." I laugh. Damain Marcello Mikealson is a very handsome italian man, perfect but weighed by past love and trauma. One of the things we all share is Trauma. "Clementine," He grins childishly. "How is London?"

Which meant he was respected among the soldiers. Which meant this was either a mistake...Or something worse. The moment he saw me, he straightened, his body going on alert. “Don,” he said, bowing his head. I gave a small nod. “Fabio. Thirty-two. Your father was Remo Tatticcu,” I said. “A good man.” “The best,” he answered. “And you’re his son. Are you any good?” “Yes.” I walked toward the table in front of him. Different tools were already laid out. Prepared. Waiting.