Novel & Cerita Man O Salwa

After exchanging a few words and greetings, a middle-aged man with grey hair and a strong build walks into the scene. Everyone except Alessandro bowed to him, and I stand tall by his side. Alessandro moves away from me, “Javed.” They smile at one another, it was a bizarre sight, and the man asks, “So, you’re his wife?” Javed’s tone was rather young for his age. “Yeah, I am,” I say with a fake essence of pride. “Amber, meet Javed Pentanova,” Alessandro’s husky voice tells me. Pentanova? As in Julia’s father…

Ivan said, “ Bro, I’m not kidding with you. If it’s really something about her, she might just be your savior.” Savior? His world had been dark and gloomy for 20 years, he thought he’d long been used to it. If he hadn’t felt warmth or seen light, he’d have continued getting used to this life.But after experiencing what he did last night and having known that there is a woman on this earth that finally hasn't made him feel uncomfortable , he was unwilling to return to that darkness.If she really was his savior, then he had to have her, what ever be the case. --------------------------------PA Ignacio picked up the phone and heard a low, clear voice. “Find out who the woman in my room last nig

I switch to the surroundings. A man in black moves silently past the kitchen, gun in hand, eyes sharp, focused on something ahead. He raises his arm, a quick wave, no words. The signal is clear. A second figure emerges from the shadows near the gate, cigarette hanging lazily between his lips, gun tucked into his belt. He strolls over, unhurried, as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. They exchange a smoke without a word. The man at the gate flicks his cigarette and walks back, resuming his post like it’s just another night.

Still, I turned with a frown on my face. A man towered over me in a lean shirt and striped jeans. “I'm Salva.” He paused, extending a hand, “the groundskeeper.” “Oh…” my voice trailed off, eyes on his glistening moist palm. “I would rather not, but it is a pleasure, Salva.” I clutched my purse tighter. He shrugged and dropped his hand. “I must tell you how much this means to me, it's been months since anyone—” “Have my guests arrived?” My voice clipped.

He was holding a knife as he flipped it on his fingers. The room was dimly lit, or maybe the lamp behind the two was not good enough to illume the place. "Kill me!" The man getting tortured uttered. "Kill me because if you don't, I will go back to her, use her, and get what I want!" It took me seconds to recognize his voice. It was Salva. My whole body tensed. "And soon! Very soon she will sell you out to Luigi Dominico!" He spat some blood. The other man who of course was the Lazza hummed. He stood straight as if he was done torturing him, but in a swift; he span the knife and attached it to his thigh. I flinched, close to dropping the phone.

His hands wrapped around a cup of something that steamed in the cold air. "I was wondering when you'd come," the man said. Alex stopped. "Who are you?" The man smiled. His teeth were yellow, his skin gray, his eyes the color of old water. "I'm the one who's been watching. The way I've been watching all of them. The Vincenzos. The De Lucas. The men who think they own this city." He set his cup down. "My name is Sal. I used to work for the Don. Before Matteo. Before any of them."

Then the air shifts. “Ten million.” The voice is smooth, cold, dangerous. It cuts through the noise like steel. Heads turn, whispers spark. My heart stutters. I force myself to look at the man who spoke. He sits with perfect stillness, his black suit tailored like a second skin, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes like frozen stone. He doesn’t look at anyone else—only at me. Salve. The name runs through the crowd like smoke. I’ve heard it before, in whispers. Don Salve. A man who rules his empire with silence and fear. But before the crowd can recover, another voice slices through the room.

The next morning, silence hung heavy over the dining table. Manuela ate quietly while Uno said nothing at all, his focus fixed on his plate. Her chest felt tight with the weight of their conversation the night before—and from crying herself to sleep. But she refused to let Uno see how deeply his words had wounded her. Just then, Santi entered with a polite smile, bowing slightly to Manuela. “Good morning, el señor. Ms. Saliya called earlier—she asked if you’d still like to meet her for lunch.”

Every time he speaks it makes my insides melt a little more with nervousness. He turns to walk out, then turns back, “ Are you comfortable?” Just wishing he would go now so I can gather the last of my self respect and bury my head under the covers for the rest of the day. I reply, “yes, thank you”. That seems to appease him and he smiles that lovely smile of his and turns and leaves me to ponder on how I actually got to be here, on an Alaskan mountain, during the biggest snow storm of the century, with a woman doctor and her sheriff husband, and this enticingly good looking Alaskan mountain man, without my sister?

"Tell me why you would have Torres kidnap and rape my pregnant wife?!," Salvatore's smile was forced, his eyes flicking to the side. "A message," he said calmly. "To show you that no one is safe, not even your whore." Rage exploded within me, and I took a step towards him, but my men held me back. "Take them outside," I ordered, my voice a low growl. We stepped out into the dusty parking lot, the sounds of the fight inside fading behind us. The setting sun cast long shadows, painting the scene in a crimson hue. I could feel the anger building up like a storm inside me, threatening to break free.