From Dusk Till Dawn Series Santanico Novelas e Histórias

Santino is shaking. “I poisoned them beforehand, darling, did you expect anything less?” Harlow questions him. “Now, beg for mercy,” Harlow demands. Santino kneels. “This is how you will be remembered; at Harlow Bianchi’s feet,” Harlow chuckles. I look at the scene unfolding intently. “Alessandro, come here,” Harlow calls out, and I enter the scene. “Look at this rat,” Harlow chuckles in pride. I’m glad that Santino’s era is coming to an end. Harlow kicks Santino’s head, enough to knock him out for a few hours.

Nico guided me out while the sounds of bodies moving and orders being given filled the cathedral behind us. The drive back felt long. I couldn’t stop shaking. I paced the living room until my legs felt weak and all I could think about was Dante still standing in that cathedral handling everything alone. An hour passed. Then another. And then the door opened. Dante stepped inside. He looked tired but strong. He didn’t speak. He just walked to the TV and turned it on. Every channel played the same thing: Salvatore in handcuffs, surrounded by cameras and the federal officers. His face was pale and defeated. And then he started talking.

Every single one of the Castillo siblings had it and used it like a weapon of mass destruction on the poor female population of Castillo Ridge. Whether tourist or homegrown, the effect was the same on everyone who came in contact with a Castillo. She should know. Damon used him all the time to get out of things he didn’t want or, more recently, things he wanted to get into, such as her panties. Daniel Santillan was the perfect partner to complete their trio with his warm golden eyes and heart-melting ability to peel her clothes off with his tender words. The man didn’t talk much, but lawdy he knew exactly what to say to her when it counted, and when he had his hand in her pants, fingers slid

The premise was absurd. The door creaked open and Angelo came inside with plain nachos in her right hand. A bowl filled with Nacho dip on his left. He glanced at the screen and whistled. “Cool pick. It’s one of my most anticipated thing to watch. But I get distracted most of the time when I find something else.” He placed a small square blanket in the middle of his bed. I avoided my legs from hitting the nachos and the bowl of dips. I gripped stronger on the thick blanket that was covering my whole body.

“This isn’t over, is it?” Dino exhaled slowly. “No.” His mind was already racing. Alejandro was just one battle. The real war… was with Sanchez. And Sanchez was waiting. --- The SUV sped down the dark highway. Dino’s phone buzzed. A blocked number. He hesitated. Then answered. A familiar, cold voice greeted him. “Dino.” Sanchez. Dino’s blood ran cold. “You made quite a mess tonight.” Silence. Then—a low chuckle. “I hope you enjoyed your victory, hijo.”

But it was too late. I turned my gaze away from the mirror. SANTINO RICCI'S POINT OF VIEW The sun struggled to break through the thick curtains of his room, but Santino had been awake for a long time. Sitting bare-chested on the edge of his bed, a cigar between his fingers and a half-finished glass of scotch in the other, he stared into the void with a serious expression. In a few hours, he was going to become a married man.

I was certain she was doing fine. "Noodles is ready." I said while placing the large tray of noodles on the mat. My siblings smiled. Few minutes after we began eating the noodles, our light bulb came alive. Tami got up and was shaking his buttocks. "The light has been restored." he kept screaming. "That's strange. Mother didn't tell me she had the light fixed even though I knew she was working towards it. " I said. "Well thank God we have light." said Kiki. "We can finally watch T. V." answered Tami. Few minutes later, Kiki and Tami were done eating snd were watching a cartoon channel after I forced them to have a bath. I was about entering the bathroom when I saw Peter fixing the light bulb

They look at us with surprise. “Dante, what the fuck?” Domenico asks when he sees me. It seems as though the older brother wasn’t as forthcoming as I had thought. Dante leans back in his chair and gestures for Sienna to come to him, letting her sit on his lap as soon as she gets there, then he whispers something in her ear and she nods. “Sylvana has something to tell us about Abraham Solanzo.” Dante starts, finally letting me know why I was here.

he snarled. But Russo was already retreating, his convoy peeling away into the night. Dante lingered, his chest heaving, his eyes still locked on Livia. For a terrifying moment she thought he would rush her, bullets be damned. Then Santini yanked him back, cursing in frustration. “Not tonight,” Santini hissed. “We live to fight another day.” And Dante, broken but still burning, let himself be dragged away. Silence settled over the ruined pier. Smoke curled from splintered crates. Shell casings glittered in puddles. The taste of gunpowder clung to the air.

Wife or not, Gianna Moretti was a wildfire, and Kai was too close to getting burned. The door creaked, and Marco Santoro slithered in, his scarred cheek catching the dim light. He was lean, mid-forties, with a tailored suit that screamed old money and a smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes. He slid into the booth, unbuttoning his jacket with a casual arrogance. “Castellano,” he said, his voice smooth as oil. “You look like a man with questions.” Kai leaned back, his gaze unyielding. “And you look like a man who’s been dodging me. The dock hit. The warehouse. Your name keeps coming up, Santoro. Talk.”