Marvel Pietro Novels & Stories

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

So, for sure, Kelly wouldn’t need to handle anything she warned her. “Then, the youngest one here is Pietro. He is a part-time barista. Pietro usually works in the kitchen with Italian food, but he can help here too whenever the coffee orders are too much.” Pietro gave a salute gesture with his hand to Kelly. “Or if nothing to do yet in the kitchen,” he said with a thick Italian accent. “Nice to meet you all, Aaron, Jamie, and Pietro.” Amy smiled and nodded to these three baristas.

Her husband looked just as surprised as everyone else, but let out a chuckle and placed a kiss on her temple as she nibbled on the bread beside his soup. "Hello," She greeted the men at the table, everyone giving her awkward responses in return. "I know Marco, aren't the rest high ranked officials of your Mafia, Salvatore?" "Yeah," He nodded once he swallowed the soup. "Tazio is Uncle Romeo's son and my second-in-command." Salvatore pointed him out as he gave a wave of his hand. "Piero is Major's son, and one of my Capos, and so are Alberto and Russo, who are Uncle Vincent's and Gun's sons respectively. Fransisco is Hulk's son and my head of Staff and training. And you obviously know Marco w

They are all looking at the white board. Angelo is writing something and my eyes widened. “I am real,” I read what he just wrote. Everyone laughed nervously and ran off. It’s a simple move but seeing the pentel pen float to write it freaked them out. “I’m sorry,” he said when it’s just the three of us left inside the room. “No, thank you for saving me,” I said. “I won’t be coming with you the next day,” he said in a sad tone. “It’s okay, you can come.”

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.

“I came here because…because no one really knew Pacino here…” I trailed off when I saw the look in his eyes, there was sorrow there but there was also hesitation. “What is it?” I asked. Pietro took a deep breath and relaxed on the chair, closing his eyes. That was his thinking position. I remembered it. “Senór Pietro.” He opened his eyes now and looked at me directly. “Your papa,” he said, his voice low, almost breaking. “Your papa… he did something here. Something that made enemies, powerful enemies.” I felt the blood drain from my face.