Novel & Cerita Hetalia Italy Romano

Alessandro smiles at me, lifts his head from my legs, and presses a light kiss to my stomach before getting up and putting on some black checkered pajama bottoms but still shirtless and his tattooed chest is exposed, so fucking hot. "Let's go get you some breakfast" He said and I slipped my panties and shorts back on, he stretched his hand out for mine, and as I started to walk, I stumbled a little, which obviously made him grin. "Zio zio!" Enzo yells, clinging onto Alessandro's legs as we enter the kitchen; Alessandro lifts him up and carries him with just one arm. (Italian Translation. Uncle)

she thought to herself while the pictures of the wrath of their communities after hearing the news was playing in her mind. While she was still in those deep thoughts, Romeo entered the hut and she did not even noticed that someone was inside. Romeo looked at her sister and he noticed that she had something in her mind. He cleared his throat in an attempt to let her know that someone was inside the hut. Zamantungwa looked at his direction and she showed a disgusted expression. " Why are you looking at me like that" Romeo asked seemed surprised." I don't know, maybe it's because you are a gay", Zamantungwa replied ignorantly. "I'm a gay? Romeo asked exhibiting a serious look. " Yes, Romeo you

he says. I sit up right and stand dusting invisible lint off my jacket, great here comes the fun part. I motion Marco forward, “Surely you taught your son that nothing comes free in life”. Marco clears his throat and looks towards his children, his expression grim and tone deep when he says, “In return of Roman’s gracious decision we will need to pay it back” his voice fills with deep remorse when he turns towards Elena and says, “You will be marrying Roman Russo”.

And God, that felt rare. “Dante.” I froze. That voice. Low. Rough. A baritone that could peel your patience apart with just three syllables. I didn’t have to look. My whole nervous system lit up like a fire alarm. Dante stood up instinctively, face glowing with warmth. “Romano!” he said, grinning. “Damn, man. You still look like a damn cologne ad.” I looked up slowly. And there he was. Zane Romano. That tailored dark suit draped perfectly over his shoulders. Top buttons undone, revealing that warm golden skin that never failed to trigger sin. Sharp jawline, hair slicked back with excruciating precision, and those ice-blue eyes that—God help me—found mine instantly.

Three figures standing at the entrance. Not just men. Not just powerful. But death itself, wrapped in tailored suits and controlled fury. The air shifts instantly to cold, dominating, and unforgiving. At the center stands Vincenzo Romano, impeccably dressed, his dark eyes scanning the room like a king surveying filth beneath him. His expression is calm… too calm… but the kind of calm that promises destruction. To his right stands Riccardo Romano. He's silent, still and deadly. His gaze is sharp and calculating, like he’s already mapped out exactly how everyone in this room will die.

Pov. Alessandro When I saw her enter the office, she looked so delicate, just like a flower. I immediately realized that she recognized me, she turned pale from fright upon learning my identity. I turned to my friend. "Lorenzo, can you leave us alone?" "Sure." She straightened up and regained her composure. "Tell me, Mr. Lombardi, what can I support you with?" "Claudia, you can call me Alessandro, it's not necessary so much formality."

“Roman doesn’t think much of me, so he doesn’t always notice when I’m around.” “Why doesn’t he think much of you?” I asked, trying not to seem as desperate for his touch as I was. Domenico was the leader, and every man in that space gave him respect and didn’t question any order he gave. The way he interacted with Roman, their shaded words and tense atmosphere. There was history there. “Because he is the son of Giovanni and Renata Ferrante, and he believes that makes him above everyone else. Like I said, I heard the whispers, the plans they had for you. I wasn’t going to touch you, but as they were talking, you began to change.”

He and Leonardo has been very close too, until… He clenched his fist and tried to control the sudden rage that hit him. Calm down, he told himself, you are Il Re del Ghiaccio, showing childish emotion is beneath you. He took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Romano’s don’t get mad we get even, he reminded himself and he had been thinking of ways to get even, ever since he had discovered the betrayal. So far none of his ideas had satisfied him. They won’t hurt them enough. He needed them to feel the pain and humiliation he had felt.

“Celeste has nothing to do with this.” “Tutto a che fare con questo!” Romano’s voice boomed. “Everything! She bears the blood of the man who ended my family. Do you think I can look at her and not see Alessia’s grave?” “Then don’t look at her,” Azrael bit out. The Don’s men stiffened. Guns clicked softly in the dark. For a moment, I thought Romano would order them to shoot him. Instead, he let out a long, quiet breath and said something that made the air go still again.

he ordered. She almost laughed. *As if she had a choice.* The doors burst open. A man stepped inside, casually adjusting his cufflinks. He was tall, lean, with an air of arrogance that sent alarms through Amara’s body. She knew that face. DANTE ROMANO. The heir to the Romano empire. The man who had spent years waiting for an opportunity to take down Leonardo. And now, he had walked right into Leonardo’s den. “You’ve gotten sloppy, DeLuca,” Dante mused, stepping over one of the fallen bodies. “I expected better.”