Italy X Germany Novels & Stories

As the conversation progressed, Alessio mentioned his homeland, Italy. “You should visit Italy,” Alessio said, leaning forward slightly. “I promise, it’s even more beautiful than here.” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Blimey! I’m very up for it. You know, Tenerife is stunning.” “It is,” Alessio admitted, his eyes sparkling. “But Italy has something...special. You’ll see when you come.” Her friends chimed in, asking for tips on the best cities to visit. Alessio listed places with enthusiasm, sketching imaginary maps in the air.

~~WEEKS LATER~~ ~~PEYTON~~ We just got back from three blissful weeks in Italy—the kind of trip where your biggest concern is whether to get gelato or aperitivo first. While the boys are silently cooking up bigger plans to ensure the trip engraves itself in my memories for a lifetime. And hell yeah, I'm taking those memories to the grave. Sex. Sex. Sex.

He knows the elders better than I do. The phone rings and my father picks up. "Hello, son. I hope this is important." "Yes, father. It is quite important." "Then what is it?" "Do you know about the situation in Italy?" "I am not sure about what you mean?" "I was fortunate to find a hotel run by supernaturals. Why didn't I know Italy is still under humans' control? That they didn't sign the peace treaty." "There is a lot of countries that didn't sign the peace treaty."

I hope she understood this code especially since I mentioned the country and person holding me captive, "oh... you did make mention of Jake being from France but I heard Italy is more fun during summer." I exhaled sharply, she got it... thank goodness we made codes in times like this, "yeah Italy is the best, maybe we should find the best place to visit." "I'll make enquiries, Rome, Venice, Milan, Sicily, I really don't know where we should pick, I think Milan would be a great pick." "Nah... Sicily would be perfect, it gives off street vibes, beautiful culture, I even heard that there's a mountain here, it would be perfect."

◆ MILES ◆ Florence, Italy "Quando penso che meno incompetente di così non si può essere..." Thump. Thud. "Leo, w-we tried everything!" said a panicking British man's voice. "Gave them two times their cut!" "Imbeciles!" Bump. Whack. Glass shattering. "I wouldn't— W-Why would I—" "D'ora in poi, figlio di puttana!" "Stop! No— Leo!"

Walking arm in arm with my father, Mauricio Rossetti, I could feel the eyes of everyone in the church on us. This is not just a wedding, much less a union between two people in love—nothing could be further from the truth. What the inhabitants of Florence are witnessing today is the end of a hundred-year-old war between two families. With this ceremony, we seal the enmity between the Rossettis and the Di Santes. Well, at least that’s what is expected.

Blackwheel asked as soon as Alberto was looking at the same direction that he was looking at. "I just greeted those lovely couple. I told them, 'good evening' and they responded back. It was a nice gesture considering the time of the day." Blackwheel agreed with a slight nod of his head. "Italy is a wonderful place," he admitted. "Rome is even better," Alberto added.

She squealed, looking at her palm that was filled with blood. "Yemi, why is there so much blood? Are you having...are you?...miscarrying?" WORLD TRANSLATION Italian - Grande Fratello English - Big brother Italian - Buonasera a te Fratello e a una bella serata Anche a te, signor Cavalli." English - good evening big brother and also to you too, Mr. Cavallo.

Watched by people who owed me favors deeper than money. That would have to be enough. For now. Gabriel waited near the elevator, coat already on, posture too still. He knew this version of me well enough not to ask questions that didn’t matter. “Your car is downstairs,” he said. “Private terminal is clear.” “Good.” We walked without touching. Some connections didn’t need proof. The doors slid open, and as we stepped inside, he spoke again. “Italy isn’t just reacting anymore. They’re countering.”

Gabriel with his head crooked against the seat, and his curls had stuck to his temple, and Elias sprawled across his father's arm, his pacifier bobbling between little sighs of sleep. Italy. The land that shaped the man I loved. And now, the vicinity we would have fun two years of marriage, years of situations we have fought together and received, two years of love end up so much greater than we had ever expected possible. As soon as we left the airport, Italy embraced us. It is tough to even describe, the whole lot felt distinct, like the air had a new odor to it. The warm stone baked via the sun, freshly brewed espresso nearby, and a hint of salty sea. The boys hung on to Alessandro as we