Godfather Parts Novels & Stories

The path wouldn't be easy, but with a newfound clarity, I was ready to take the first step. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Dad's number. It rang once, twice, then went straight to voicemail. Disappointment stung at me. He was never readily available when it came to Mom's episodes. Maybe he was with Claire and Elsie, celebrating their victory over us. Biting back a surge of anger, I dialed another number. Don Antonio. My godfather had left me confused and shaken with both his punishment and my unexpected reaction. But right now, he was the only other person I could turn to.

she waves at him ignore his act of stamping on the floor. The fork gets into the rolled red spaghetti when his footsteps fade in her ears, letting out a sigh she gulps down the whole glass of Americano. The glass door of the restaurant opens making the crowd gasp and scream, people gather rushing to the door, all their movements stop when a person drags another man in his hold along with another two men wearing masks. The crowd gathers around the three of them finding any chance to get towards the door as the two masked fellow orders them to stay in with the gun.

“Here, Inspector.” Suddenly, Miranda appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray with a tall glass filled with dark red wine. She smiled faintly. “Please, Inspector… have a seat.” Inspector Mohammed paused and gazed into her eyes for a long moment before extending his hand. He accepted the glass, took a cautious sip, and then placed it back on the tray. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He went downstairs, his footsteps echoing through the spacious villa. Miranda followed him silently, still carrying the tray, her eyes never leaving him.

Seb and I went straight to my study. The Italian people called him Signore Gerardo. My men called him Padrino Gerardo, meaning The Godfather Gerardo. And ever since I was seventeen, I called him Papa. Gerardo Sanguin sat on the swiveling chair behind my desk in my study watching the wall sized flat screen TV across from him. It showed five different places in the world — one in New York, one in London, one in California and one in Las Vegas. Our shooters were in place for all the heads of The Biancis—the mafia family I had to get rid of. The first one we witnessed was of Vincenzo Biancis', eldest son, who was attending a birthday party in California. People around him shouted when they sa

I've had some pretty vivid fantasies of my Godfather, that's one thing that I will admit. The man oozed dominance, mystery and sexiness that rubbed off on any female. I'd enjoyed those subtle touches whenever he would place a necklace around my neck, the way his fingers seemed to linger on my waist a second longer than necessary when we pulled away from our hugs and the way that he would give me this intense look as if to whisper to me that it was our little secret.

So, we continued our lunch here. That same day, he kicked his Godfather's family out of his house. I could hear them all arguing. It was one against his entire Godfather's family. They were throwing all sorts of hurtful words at Everett. It was really, really bad. In his frustration, Godfather Everett even pulled out a gun. He pointed the gun at them, so they hurried to leave.

The old man said and smiles at me which I find now super creepy. Fuck! Even if he gives me all his assets I still don't want to be his boy for a month. I don't need his money. Until now, I still have the black card that Luciano gave me and I can use it and spend it whenever I want. I didn't use the black card though and instead of living like a rich kid, I did a part-time job as a waiter here in La Lena Cafe. I’m trying to live my life as simple as I can be. I want to experience a normal teenager’s life. I want to spend all the money that I really worked for. I don't know but I feel an insurmountable joy and happiness at the thought that I am using my hard-earned money and it's not coming fr

"You've always been a rude little tramp. But at the very least, you shouldn't throw filth onto the Godfather." His fingers began to tighten slowly. I couldn't breathe. "The Godfather went to Mexico to negotiate an arms deal, and you dare spin a lie like this? I need to teach you again what respect means." He sneered, looking at me sideways. I struggled desperately. "Let… go…" Just as I was about to suffocate, a hand suddenly clamped down around Marco's wrist. It was Lorenzo DeAngelis, the Godfather's Consigliere. He was the family's chief legal counsel and most important subordinate.

James's eyes widened. - Donate it? That is, she didn't get anything in return. -Oh, no. I can assure you that lady was more than a millionaire, she didn't need the money. -Perfect, it's perfect. -James took it. - Dad, can I see it? - Portia asked, holding out her hand. James bent down to Portia's level and she opened her hands, he placed the beautiful ring between her hands. - Be careful. Do you like it?