Italian Playboy Mga Nobela at Kwento

He says pointing to himself then to me. “I know, this is a surprise. I guess you’re easy to talk to.” I say smiling at him. “I’m glad you feel that way. And I’m single too if you’re wondering.” He says looking at me intently. “Why are you single?” I ask surprised too. He’s a really good looking guy, he’s a gentleman and he’s funny. Why is he single? “I find that most people are interested in situationships and that has never been my thing.” H e says and I feel him. I’m currently running away from a very complicated, three-way situationship.

my eyes couldn't comprehend what am presently seeing I raised my hand to cover my mouth as it opened in shock, and then i leaned in closer with wide eyes. No wonder he had looked familiar and real sexy too bad he's the Playboy type. He's a fucking Romano Of the infamous Romano family. I felt a chill roll over me and my mind begin to race. Wow he really came from a deep real old money. Their family's name is so well-known around the city I wonder why I didn't really remember. In fact, there family is famous around the world. I clicked on an article and opened it wide; he even had his own Wikipedia page, and the photograph in the top left corner was one of him bleary eyed and drunk, staggering

"When I show you, what do I get in return?" He sunk his fingers into my waist and pulled my body upwards to his chest. His chest is thrice my brother's own, I feel pity for my lil bro already "What you get in return" And his voice is way deeper than usual "If you show me yours, I'll show you mine too" Something inside me sparked at his words. If I show him my naughty side, he shows me his side too. I wanna get to see my playboy boss in action.

"My family, and everyone else in New York, know me as Christian Cartwright, or the Cartwright playboy." He lifted his hand suddenly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a flurry of tingles through my skin. "And your other identity?" I whispered. "Don Vito." He murmured. "One of New York's most ruthless mafia bosses."

I say, ignoring the strange tingling crawling through my body at the thought of some… unknown person undressing me. “Boss doesn’t come out at this time,” Blondie says. “Why not?” “He’s a busy man” “Does he have a name?” I cut in. That earns me a glare from him. Good. That’s how I feel too. “Of course he does,” Redhead says proudly. “He’s Don Rafaele Grimaldi. The wealthiest man in all of Italy. First son of Don Gaetano Grimaldi, leader of—ouff—”

"What's your name? You never really told me what your name is." He paused at the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He looked back at me, his eyes holding a depth that made me shiver. "Alessandro Bianchi," he stated before walking out of the room. Alessandro Bianchi? I tried to remember where I had heard that name. After a few minutes, my eyes went wide remembering who Alessandro Bianchi was, the one percent elite of Italy. The same man rumours that he is a mafia lord, a figure no one dared to cross, yet, on the surface, he was the most successful businessman in the country, a titan of industry, his empire vast and unyielding.

I see the faint marks on his knuckles, they’re subtle but noticeable. He’s wearing a half-sleeve today, not his signature leather jacket, and burn me, he looks like he’s just stepped out of his usual shoots. Yes. Massimo Bianchi is face of Italian Magazines. I wouldn’t be surprised if he seeks career in modelling, but his dark soul is corrupted enough to run his father’s business. By business, I mean, illegal one.

“Listen to me carefully. This is no longer just a smear campaign. This is a coordinated attack involving corporate rivals, political interests, and media syndicates with deep financial backing. Someone wants to force you into a corner.” “And then what?” “Then they will offer you an exit,” Adrian replied. “One that benefits them.” Nora’s hands curled at her sides. “I am not accepting anything from people who destroy lives for sport.” A flicker of approval crossed his eyes. “Good. Because I have no intention of letting them dictate terms.” Before she could respond, Adrian’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen, his expression tightening further. “It is starting,” he said. He turned the phone to

The gentleman playboy is not so popular here. Amira's eyes flashed gold. 'That's a ridiculous nickname, given to him by the tabloids.' Abdullah shrugged. 'And yet it stuck.' Omer Ibrahim, the playboy of the Middle East, Europe, Asia, and the Americas, spent his time at parties and on polo fields. He ran a business too, Abdullah knew; he'd started up some successful financial venture if just an excuse for him to party his way through Europe and avoid the country of his birth.

She smiled as she placed her lips on mine, slowly kissing me as she waited for me to reciprocate and that was when I pulled her to myself as I flipped her over, causing her to lie on her back as I climbed on her. I was ready for her now, she wanted to be the daring one didn’t she? I smirked slightly, I would surely show her why I was Raymond Ender, known as the playboy CEO and the moment the thought of being a playboy came to mind, I shoved it off. I wanted to now only be her playboy. She bit her lips slightly as she stared at me and that was enough to turn me on even more and I immediately buried my face in her neck as I kissed it slowly before starting to rub her side of waist and she tigh