La Traicion Frases Novels & Stories

I said breathlessly. For a second, Enzo paused his thumb still in my mouth. He didn't push it and I was doing my best to resist the urge of licking it. Suddenly, he pulled his thumb out, his face hardened making a shiver run down my spine. “ I will. Traitors don't live long after betraying people's trust.” Enzo said, his voice cold as ice. Pressing my hand deeper on his chest, I pushed him away. “ Good to know then.”

The tension grows with every word he says. Then, suddenly, he stops and says one single word. "Traditore." The Italian is forceful and packed with so much disgust as he turned and spat on the ground. Traitor. A chill runs down my spine. The guards' faces harden. The maids whisper among themselves. Fear spreads like smoke. I don't know what's happening, but I can feel it, something terrible is about to happen. César leans close and presses his lips against my neck. I shiver, my whole body stiffening. He chuckles against my skin, the sound low and dark.

┈◆┈┈◇┈┈•⊰⊱•┈◆┈◇┈┈ Leonardo ┈◆┈┈◇┈┈•⊰⊱•┈◆┈◇┈┈ The word TRAITOR had remained on my desk since the previous night. By morning, I had memorized most of the file Padrino gave me yet the information inside had produced more questions than answers.

87 Celene Trust. It was such an easy word to say, yet so heavy. A word that could either make or break the toughest of situations. A word I had given freely and had gotten punished for it, Although I had learned my lesson with Ella and Christoff I find myself staring into the warm grey eyes of Alpha Mondrian. Thinking would it be wrong to trust one more time?

The word lands quietly between us. Betray. Not cheat. Not leave. Betray. Like whatever history exists between him and Marcus Laurent runs deeper than rivalry, deeper than business, deep enough to make a man like Tristan Hale use a word that vulnerable without even seeming to notice he's done it. “I won't,” I say. And I mean it. He looks at me for a moment longer, then something in his shoulders settles. “Good girl.” His hand finds my hair again, fingers moving through it gently. “Sleep now. You must be exhausted.”

"You take one step out of the line and that's a bullet through your head. I caught you once, I will catch you again and this time tesoro, ti pentirai di avermi sfidato (you will regret challenging me)." "Fidati di me Luca, rompere la tua fiducia non è qualcosa che ho intenzione di fare... ancora (Trust me Luca, breaking your trust is not something I'm going to do... yet)," I whispered leaning forward. A smirk made its way onto my face.

He stepped back and said it… “Oltre al tradimento della mia lealtà…” (Other than betraying my loyalty…) ”…ciò che disprezzo di più…” (What I despise the fucking most…) ”…sono le bugie.” (…are fucking lies.) His voice didn’t rise, he didn’t have to raise his voice. It was clear he was playing or smiling. He reached for the belt that lay beside the tray where his cigar had burned out. A thick black letter belt and wrapped it slowly around his hand as he looked at them

I said quietly. “I didn’t betray him,” Damien replied coldly. “I showed him what betrayal feels like.” The bitterness in his voice was impossible to miss. “I needed him to feel it. To understand what it’s like to lose someone because of the person you trusted the most.” I studied him carefully. “But that’s the rule that governs this world,” I said slowly. Damien’s eyes flicked toward me. “The punishment for treason is death,” I shrugged faintly. “There’s no two ways about it. You know that better than anyone.”

“You can’t free yourself, Isa. Never. The best thing for you is to stay still. Stay at ease, and it will all be over quickly.” Her resistance wilted. Her breathing ragged, but her body stilled. “Good girl,” I murmured, patting her head like she was mine to train. I wrapped her fingers tighter around the gun, guiding it until the barrel pressed against Tracy’s forehead. “Do you deserve to die?” I asked, my gaze never leaving Tracy. Her lips trembled before her words spilled out in broken French. “Oui, boss. Je mérite de mourir. J’aurais dû ramener madame chez elle comme vous l’aviez ordonné, mais je l’ai amenée ici. Je mérite ma punition.”

He yelled as he fell off the bed. “Get up, Traditore! (betrayer).” Marco yelled as he began rolling up his sleeves. “Come hai potuto? Hai tradito! Sei un serpente!”( how could you? You betrayed us. You’re a snake) Marco pounced on Rafael, landing blows on him, “Ti meriti la fine dei traditori” (you deserve the fate of betrayers). He said in between landing blows and kicking him. He couldn’t control himself as he kept hitting, cursing, and kicking his brother nonstop. By the time he was tired, his knuckles were broken and bleeding. His shirt had blood spilled all over it.