Luigi Voices Novels & Stories

“Consider it done.” I glance back at Massimo one last time. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? But you’re nothing. I believe in none other than the eternal. Only someone loyal could pull this shit.” I lean in close, my voice a low whisper. “You don’t know loyalty, Massimo. But you’re about to learn.” As I turn to leave, Luigi speaks. His tone is cautious but firm. “Don… he said something else.” I stop in my tracks. My pulse spike. “What?”

He had finally realized who the voice belonged to. “You finally got it,” Luigi said with a chuckle. “How are you holding up with everything?” he asked with concern. “You know a broken wedding ceremony, near death and a brother's death is quite a big deal, even for the strongest man,” he added and Giovanni could have sworn he heard the sarcasm in the first part of his last statement. “I am doing quite perfectly, just some plans that need to be executed,” Giovanni replied. “I know we didn't make that alliance, but I am solidly behind you. I have an army of men waiting perfectly for your command.”

his voice is full of warning and his face is still red due to anger, I could see veins popping from his forehead and knuckles and suddenly the room becomes dark too. "I-" I started and it feels like the words are stuck in my throat because my mouth is open but no words seem to make it out of it. A clear irritation is evident on Luigi's face. I rubbed my hand on my jeans and started again. Readjusting my posture and the words that playing in my mind before taking a step closer in his direction.

he says and I grin at the simple rhythm. "I'm not very hungry," I admit, and he sighs. "I understand how you must be feeling. I haven't met my mate yet, but I get it. Please just try a few bites," Luigi says before holding up a beautifully charred fish with herbs sticking out of its open stomach.

“Say what you mean, Luigi.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve just dug your own grave, Von. The pack will never truly accept her. And your enemies?” He scoffed. “You’ve handed them the perfect excuse to tear you apart.” I didn’t flinch. “Let them try.” Luigi studied me for a long moment, then sighed, shaking his head. “Your actions will lead to your downfall.” With that, he turned and walked away. I stood there, watching his retreating form, knowing there was some truth in his words. But it didn’t change anything.

[147] As a lingua franca or creole language of Filipinos, major languages of the country like Chavacano, Cebuano, Tagalog, Kapampangan, Pangasinan, Bikol, Hiligaynon, and Ilocano assimilated many different words and expressions from Castilian Spanish. Chavacano is the only Spanish-based creole language in Asia. Its vocabulary is 90 percent Spanish, and the remaining 10 percent is a mixture of predominantly Portuguese, Nahuatl (Mexican Indian), Hiligaynon, and some English. Chavacano is considered by the Instituto Cervantes to be a Spanish-based language.[148][failed verification]

He listened carefully to the surroundings and adjusted his vision in the darkness. "Luigi..." Luigi hesitated when the voice called his name again. Luigi had goosebumps because of the depth of the voice of the caller to his name. The kind of voice that seems to be in the pit. Terrifying. "Luigi..." Luigi stood up and couldn't help but answer. "Who are you? Show yourself!" He tried to roam his eyes around, but he couldn't see anyone. "I'm here," the voice replied. "Where?! Show yourself! Coward!" Honestly, Luigi is scared as hell! He is a fighter, but if his opponent is like this, cannot be seen anywhere or worse, a ghost, he is effin' dead. He is freaking scared of ghosts, to be honest!

He looked up at me and asked, "Aren't you going to eat yet? Don't you like the food? Just tell me what you like." I quickly shook my head, stumbling over my words. "N-n-no, sir!" He set down his utensils and leaned back, crossing his arms. "Aren't you comfortable eating with me?" "No, sir. Um, I was just surprised," I quickly replied. "What's there to be shocked about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And didn't I tell you to stop calling me 'sir'? Just call me Luigi." I bit my lower lip, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry."

Great. "Boss, I didn't say anything," Luigi blurted out respectfully as he shook his head. Luigi might not have showed any physical sign of fear but it was there in his eyes, naked and he didn't even bother to hide it. Luigi could see it too and it seemed to empower him even more. He glowered at Luigi, looking like he had grown bigger as he spat out, incredulously, "And you expect me to believe that?! "I'm telling the truth." Luigi's throat worked as he swallowed, "I'd never lie to you, you know that. She doesn't know anything, boss. Let's send her back immediately."

"Why can't I remember anything?" Luigi stopped and took my chin gently in his hands, turning my face to look at him. The contact was deliberately intimate. "I can tell you. This is our home, you've lived here for years now," Luigi said. Years. Our home. He said the words like he'd practiced them in a glass room. There was no tremor, no slip. Just the flat, patient certainty of someone who'd built a narrative and didn't plan on anyone dismantling it. Just how dedicated was he to his role? He wasn't going to out-act me. Not on purpose. Not without my consent.