Marvel Pietro 소설 & 이야기

In the far corner, hunched over a sleek black laptop, was Pietro—my tech specialist. The twitchy genius was already typing furiously, fingers flying across the keyboard. I walked past my men without looking at them, the towel slung low on my hips. The air thickened with tension. Franco shifted slightly under my stare. "Pietro," I barked. The tech jumped, nearly knocking over his coffee cup. He scrambled up, clutching the laptop to his chest, his wide brown eyes flicking nervously toward me. He was pathetic but useful. I jerked my chin once. "Come."

She didn't want to tell Peter why the Italian brute did that and she respected her decision. "You two go, I'll stay with her," Matteo said a bit too harshly and was about to go to her side when Peter stopped him. "Who the fuck do you think you are? you can't just go then decided to come back when you're not expected." Peter grabbed his arm, ignoring the fact that he's the dangerous Italian Mafia underboss in the country. His loyalty stayed to Amara and knows that he would die for her. "Paolo, control your boyfriend."

“Who helped him?” Pablo chuckled, shaking his head as if she were a naïve child. “Drake de Marco doesn’t bow to anyone.” His smile sharpened. “Now that he’s free, you’re already too late.” A muscle ticked in Massimo’s jaw as he leaned down, lowering his voice to a deadly rasp. “I will tear apart every one apart, burn down all their operations. You, Donatello and De Marco will know you all lost to me. Maria's dead! You're next!"

The tension in the room thickened immediately that even the guards standing beside the marble pillars unconsciously straightened themselves further, afraid that a wrong breath could draw attention toward them. Mr Pietro however was the first to recover from the shock “what…Madame I clearly do not accept… that will be too harsh on them, please reconsider your words” Mr Pietro immediately inputted on behalf of Lorenzo and Francesco. His voice though respectful carried urgency buried deeply beneath it…Mr Pietro had served the Casa Ndrangheta for decades and he had watched blood spill across territories and have seen betrayals rise and fall like tides and he has also witnessed boys grow into mon

He was holding the knife with the golden handle as if it were his possession rather than using it to eat as everyone was. “See that man over there?” Giovanni’s said, his voice low. “The one who’s too relaxed, but his fingers are always touching the knife like it’s part of him? That’s Pietro Marino. He runs the rackets in Verona. Killed a man once just because he reached for the wrong breadbasket at dinner.” I blinked, glancing subtly in Pietro’s direction. He looked ordinary enough until you noticed his movements, the way he scanned the room like he owned it. He looked just as cool as Giovanni, but I knew behind every calm exterior lay a dangerous man.

"Yes, I can say that,' Alexandro said. “I won’t join your manhunt, if that’s what you’re asking. But I will tell you this—there are others out there. Beyond my kingdom. Beyond yours. Not all creatures respect our war or our women.” Alexandro’s eyes narrowed. “You know something.” “I know rumors. I’ve heard whispers of a new power rising from the east. A rogue named Maeron. Not a wolf. Not quite human. Something... older. I thought he was a myth.” “Why would a myth take my mate?” Valerian’s expression darkened. “You’ll have to find that answer yourself.” Alexandro’s jaw tightened. He didn’t trust Valerian. He never would. But what he said sounded real.

He’d participated in the Mafia world to gain power that would help him with his revenge plan. Now exactly 22 years later, 28 years old Dmitri, a billionaire with hazel green eyes, the proper masculine physique, perfect face cut, impressive height of 6’2”, is a typical introverted, observative, arrogant and quick-witted person, who doesn’t want anyone in his life, especially a woman. He runs his companies in the line of electricals, Machinery, software and textiles apart from other investment businesses like equestrian, casinos and resorts in foreign countries. He manages both legal and illegal work perfectly. He’d also become one of the most successful and eligible businessmen in America.

The short sleeves on his black t-shirt revealed his old military tattoos. Monroe wasn’t a werewolf, but he was a tough son of a bitch. I met him when I first moved to Toronto. He helped me get into this game, and he was the first person I asked to join my crew. Flint trusted him just as much as I did, and it helped to have a seasoned veteran in the business to keep us prepared and ahead of the game. He claimed that civilian life was enough to drive a man crazy, and after being in the war and seeing death on a daily basis working for mafia bosses was the only thing that kept him from losing it completely.

Martin asked casually, leaning on the rail beside him. Lorenzo didn’t answer directly. "You recorded it? Or hacked it?" Martin shrugged. "Does it matter? The important thing is: I have it." "What do you want? Money?" Lorenzo asked, already fishing for how deep this would go. Martin let out a low chuckle. "Money? Please. That’s too simple. No, I want something much more useful." He turned, locking eyes with Lorenzo. "I want access. You’re Raphael's brother. You work inside his empire. I want you to be my eyes and ears. Feed me information. Sabotage when necessary. Undermine quietly."

Taking an elevator to the top floor, we are escorted by a young looking Italian woman to a private sector. There is already an Italian guy in suit sitted by the wide table, a girl with glasses which I guess to be his assistant by the side. "Logo temp o." He stands up, giving us a tight smile. "Ciao." The girl with glasses nods at me. "Oh... Hello." I smile sheepishly, hoping what she said is a greeting. "Bello verditi di nuovo." Xavier replies professionally to the Italian guy. Scanning through the way he is dressed, and how he presents himself in a prideful manner just like some one I know, I could tell he is no other than Mr Carlos in flesh and blood.