Fredo Godfather Novels & Stories

"I hate that bitch, but unlike your father, I don't hurt women. Ever." Fine, Uncle Fredo wasn't a psychopath because they cannot feel empathy or remorse. Sociopath would be a more appropriate term or somewhere in between that spectrum. "How the hell did you convince Zenetti to get me out?" Fredo questioned. "Money." Also because Lily saved his precious son's life. Fredo shook his head, chuckling. Enzo gave a side glance of suspicion. "Are you high right now?" "I wish I was." That amused Enzo. "So you got over your addiction?"

“Jackson, stop saying this, I don't even know what your wife looks like so how do you expect me to kidnap her? Have you forgotten that I did not attend your wedding? So how am I supposed to know the face of the person that I want to kidnap if at all I had the thought of doing such a thing? I know that both of us do not have an understanding anymore because we fought a long time ago, but that does not give me the right to kidnap your wife. I would never stoop so low to do such a thing.” Fredo has never been one to lie, he will say the truth immediately and even laugh about it because he never does anything without being fully ready for the consequences. Seeing him say he has nothing to do wit

“Those weren’t rumors. They are. My father is Manfred Russo, he’s the Godfather of Sicily and the whole of Italy. But when it comes right down to it, he runs most of the country, it’s just done behind the scenes. Governments and by extension law enforcement are very corrupt. He gives them a little on the side and they turn a blind eye. Ashton’s family is in Colombia, his padre is Salvatore Rossini.” “Cartel,” he said before I could say it myself. “I know the name, Salvatore Rossini. Ironically enough one of the papers I wrote as an undergrad was on the drug trade in South America. Salvatore Rossini was one of the people I highlighted in that paper. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connectio

At the exact same time, Fredo pointed toward me in confusion. “Who’s this?” The room went awkwardly silent for a second. Fredo was… handsome. Not as handsome as Daddy and his brothers, obviously. But still handsome and Tall too. Why were all mafia men giants? He wore a black suit despite the visible injuries on him. White bandages wrapped around one of his arms, while a healing cut stretched across the side of his face. The bruises alone were enough to make me nervous. My sleepy brain immediately remembered the mafia conversation from days ago.

Ercole trusted his best friend to make Fiamme happier than he could have and despite his father being the second most miserable prick on the planet, Severino Matrone made Fiamme fall in love with him so deeply she could barely breathe unless he was present. Until he was twenty-one, Furio believed Severino to be his father. Then both men sat him down, told him the truth of his biology and insisted nothing changed. They swore they told him only because he deserved the truth, and it must come from them. Ercole continued to be the most incredible godfather, and his own father continually spoiled him rotten. They taught him everything about being Capo to their family and eventually Don, about run

Dante jolted awake, gasping as if he'd just run a marathon. It wasn’t a dream. It was the brutal truth. There it was, heavy on his shoulders—the legacy and curse of his father. Vittorio Bellandi. The man who had etched his name into the Calabrian mafia with blood and fear, but who now lived only in shadows that refused to fade. The cold floor greeted his bare feet as he stood. Heart racing. No time to think.

Connor said. Annah was dumbfounded as she continued to listen to what he said. In that moment, she could hardly picture the Fred she knew with the one Connor was describing at all. "Wow." "I don't know if i should tell you this but i will. At the end of our investigations- that is, Hans and I. We both discovered that Fred runs a cartel." Connor said.

Up to a face that made my heart physically stutter in my chest. It was Alexander. Leo’s Godfather. He was the wealthiest, most terrifyingly ruthless man in the city. The man who was supposed to be paying for our wedding venue. He didn't look at my ruined clothes or my bleeding feet. His dark, heavy eyes locked onto my red, tear-stained face. He didn't look pitiful. He looked furious. Slowly, he shrugged off his heavy, custom-tailored suit jacket. Without saying a word, he draped it over my freezing shoulders. It was so warm I almost cried harder.

he says. I looked at that star again when I heard what Grandpa said. But it was also returned immediately to grandfather. I saw in his eyes the sadness and longing. I bowed because I remembered Lola. He died because of our Mafia opponents during the war. My grandmother was a member of a Mafia, she was not just a Mafia but she was a Mafia Queen then.

he teased, grinning at Kelly. Kelly rolled her eyes playfully. “I see you brought gifts. That’s a good start.” “Of course, gotta spoil my goddaughter,” Finn smirked, placing the bag on the nightstand. “These are for the little princess. Some tiny clothes and a few essentials.” Kelly beamed. “That’s sweet, thank you, but Daniela won the godmother thingy.” He handed her the flowers. “And these are for you. Don’t say I never do anything nice and I will be the godfather.”