Guilty Gucci Book Novels & Stories

"Fair enough. Let's see... when I was younger, I used to sneak out of my father's meetings and go to the library. I loved reading about history and strategy. It felt like my little escape from the world of guns and deals." Gabriella's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I would never have guessed." Enzo nodded. "Yes, books were my sanctuary. They still are, in a way." Gabriella smiled, feeling a deeper connection with him. "Looks like we have more in common than we thought." Enzo smiled, "It seems so." Gabriella opened her mouth to speak but she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. They both turned to see a servant coming towards them and a woman beside her, dressed like she

“And you’ll leave when I’m done.” I pulled a gun from beneath the desk. Not hidden. Displayed. The polished barrel rested on the spine of an old leather-bound book. Il Codice Nero: The Black Code. Fitting. Nico’s eyes flicked down. I placed my hand on it. Not gripping, just touching. Like it wasn’t even necessary to aim. “I asked for information,” I said. “You gave me crumbs.” “I gave what I had.” “No,” I said coldly. “You gave what you thought was safe.”

What a fucking sight she was! The confidence she showed and the fire in her eyes—Rosaline Guerra did not have it, but Rose did, and I would have rather had Rose than the tamed sister of the Consigliere of the Vitale Crime Family. She lifted her ass from the counter for me to stride the dress down her legs, along with her lace panties. She did not object, but her eyes slightly widened. My mouth dried up at the sight of her pink pussy, desperate for my attention.

“You really ready for that client meeting in two days?” I wave her off, feeling pleasantly full. “Ric’s got me more than ready. I’ll be fine.” After we finish up, our next stop is the new shopping centre uptown, a luxurious stretch of designer storefronts that smell of fresh leather, rich perfumes, and polished mahogany. I stride confidently into the Gucci flagship store, a familiar thrill sparking as I take in the racks of sharp suits, silk blouses, and elegant, structured dresses. I know what I’m here for, but I let myself wander, fingers grazing the fabric of a cashmere coat on display. Its tailored lines and soft texture draw me in, tempting me with a level of detail and craftsmanship th

Is she taking his name now? “She introduces herself and all of them swear loyalty to her. They all make the same gesture that Marcello did. Ashley looks around and pulls four people to the front of the line. Marcello looks at all of them and he realizes what is going on. She knows them. “I am going to cleanse this mafia. I want only the good seed here, the ones I can trust and I can make sure will never betray me because I swear if you do, this is what is going to happen to you”, she says as she walks to Marcello and opens her hand in front of him. He looks around, frowning, and grabs his gun, putting it in her hand.

Melissa guessed that this was his office, his private working space. Melissa swallowed hard. She felt like she as trespassing in a place she wasn’t supposed to be in. She walked over to the large book shelf an gazed at the endless rows of books, each of different colour and titled. She ran her hands over them and took on book out of the shelf. The words “The Aristocrat” were engraved boldly in italics on the blue hard cover. Melissa opened the book and began to skim through it. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

The smile faded fast the second he clocked her empty hands. Bianca and her mother, Regina, lounged on the sofa like royalty. The second Isla walked in, Bianca zeroed in on her outfit a plain T-shirt that happened to be this season's Gucci, jeans that looked ordinary but were clearly expensive if you knew what to look for, and worse the bag. A limited-edition Chanel. The kind of piece that sold out within hours, regardless of budget. Bianca's eyes went wide.

Gavin bought us each a latte, the contents inside the cardboard cup warm against my trembling fingers. After that, the two of us made our way inside the exhibit. We waded through the sea of people, coffee cups in hand, our faces flushed with nerves. When I saw the first piece on the mannequin, though, I instantly felt my worries slip away. “That’s a real Gucci piece!” I breathed as I sidled up to the mannequin adorned with a wool riding suit. “That has to be from the nineteen-twenties, maybe thirties.”

he yawned, burying his head in the book. Hazel’s words rang in my ears. I didn’t want to be hard on myself, but I didn’t want to loosen up so much for him, so I took deep and controlled breaths. I tried to convince myself he was being sincere, and not a setup. “Are you alright?” he asked, and I kept mute, staring at the book in his hand as he flashed it in my face. “The Mafia King’s Obsession!” I exclaimed, like I hadn’t noticed the book earlier. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Gigi,” I said, and his eyes widened.

he interrupts, handing the stack of clothes to the sales associate. I narrow my eyes. “Wait, whose money is this?” He looks at me like I’ve just asked the dumbest question in the world. “Valentine’s, duh. Who else?” I blink. “And he’s okay with this?” He smirks. “He didn’t say no.” “That doesn’t mean yes!” He shrugs. “Details, details, he'd never notice. Next store.” Gucci is chaos. The store is a riot of colors and patterns, a stark contrast to the muted elegance of Prada.