Manolo Sanchez Novels & Stories

I looked up to see a lean man with blonde hair and bright eyes raising his hands in surrender. Ricco, Nicco, and Maximo shielded me with their bodies. “Viola, it’s me, Carlo Mancuso!” He yelled loud enough to see him. I finally recognized him when he said his name. “Ricco, let him through. He’s my friend.” My three bodyguards obliged and Carlo walked to me. He was the nephew to Stefano Mancuso, the leader of one of the four mafia families in Italy. He and I were not friends. I’d only uttered those words to ensure Ricco would let him through. I’d gone to boarding school with him when I was in high school—before I transferred to an all-girls boarding school.

A loud announcement on the speaker system drowned out my wailed protest of, “Oh, God, no, don’t do that!” half protest, half yelling at my father. And yet he didn’t hear me. “I’ve lost touch since Alejandro Sancho retired from the business world. This could be the perfect opportunity to reconnect, and I’m sure Preston could arrange accommodation for you.” “I wouldn’t want to trade in our relationship.” Ignoring the sarcasm of my retort, my father mused thoughtfully, “The Sancho family has strong South American connections, connections that could be very useful if the Martin deal proves viable. Actually, even if it doesn’t, there are—”

The manager stated his final words. “But---” Ferran would have appealed to the manager but Sanchez stopped him. “Well then, thank you for your time. We’ll be going.” Sanchez stood and held out his hand to the manager to shake hands but the manager didn’t accept it. “You’re from San Lorenzo. I might get infected with the disease spreading in your town.” The manager said so, Sanchez put down his hand and just smirked at the manager even though he’s wearing a face mask. ‘Tss. Judgemental. It’s a good thing he didn’t accept.’ Sanchez said in his mind.

Beside him stood Standfast, a bit shorter but no less imposing, with a sneer playing on his lips. Standfast, around nineteen, had a more rugged demeanor compared to Phillip. His face, while not conventionally handsome, bore the marks of someone who had seen their fair share of trouble. He had a solid build, indicating a readiness for action rather than words. His eyes held a steely intensity, hinting at a volatile temperament kept in check only by Phillip's presence.

Sanchez said before hanging up. Capello couldn't reply knowing fully who Sanchez is.Sanchez is a drug lord he runs the central cartel in Genoa with springs of dogged and rugged urchins lurking around him.Sanchez has the capacity to wipe out Capello’s lineage from the surface of the earth,every single underground runnings and words don't fly in the city without the knowledge of Sanchez.He is the most dreaded and revered kingpin in the whole city.

’ The man laughed, an ugly sound and he lifted his hand to grab her. ’Good b*obs,’ he leered, as he was a man who had never known the word “No.’ come from the mouth of any woman. * Miguel Sanz was an arms dealer from Spain on a visit to meet and confer with the notorious Lucien Delano. The fifty-year-old man with his slightly rotund figure was still handsome but he had the jaded air of a man who moved from woman to woman, eager to quench his sexual appetite. There was no constancy in him as his third wife had realized before she had moved off with a substantial amount from him as alimony.

I remain composed with a small smile plastered on my face. Maximo smirks at me, his gaze simply darkening in a frightening way. It's the first time he has looked at me like this, “ Isn’t that right, Samantha? You won’t play any tricks on us right, cause you know I am itching to burn stuff up,” My senses are alert and I offer a sharp node. He snaps his fingers, “ Great, Santino, call her brother.” He instructs. As he ashes up the cigar in his palms. I took note of how he only smokes one type of cigar, the most expensive one in the world. He is truly living up to his billionaire reputation.

Cause when Massimo Bianchi is involved, nothing good ever happens. ********

I was thinking of the worst. “I have always wanted him to” “He's opening up to me bit by bit” she paced around while I moved closer to get a full view of their conversation. “Put yourself together” “Stop behaving like a baby” Manolo slightly raised his voice. “We both know why you are here” “You are not here for love” “Don't tell me his dick is that good” he fumed. “I mean I wouldn't trade it for anything” “Yours isn't close “Montelle mocked.

"We don't know as yet who he's been meeting with except for Laramie but we feel pretty certain there's something brewing we only get this much action out of him when he has a job lined up, otherwise believe it or not the guy's kind of a home body. We haven't seen the girlfriend lately either and I use the term lightly because Mancini as far as we can tell don't have girlfriends in as much as he has bed partners. He does seem to be monogamous though. So any questions?" I guess he was finally ready to wind down. "I can't think of any right this minute no, I've studied everything we have on him so far, have sort of a handle on the ins and outs but what I'm not really sure about is why we need a