Michael Corleone Novels & Stories

I'll do whatever you tell me but please I don't want to be stabbed like this" I nodded and my man lifted him up. "Who sent you?" "Carlo Mancini" my hand clenched tightly. That bastard , Dante's brother has the nerve to mess with me even though I warned him last time to get the hell out, now that his brother is dead he wants to claim his inheritance. Carlo is a leader of the Russian mafia, after his father exiled him for sewer his bastard and left everything to his legitimate son Dante, but Carlo is as powerful as me, but he still tried to defeat me several times.

"The games I play usually end in blood." Ivan didn't dare move, just glared at me. "Do you have any idea who you're messing with?" I smiled, about to say something. Just then, the crowd parted. A man in a black silk shirt strolled over, oozing a dangerous, magnetic charm with every step. He had the classic profile of an Italian man—deep green eyes, dark brown hair that was just the right amount of messy. Victor Bellini. The Godfather of Italy's largest mafia family.

Sonny stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the borrowed designer suit again and again. Copying the Godfather in the movies, he stuffed a nearly wilted rose into his breast pocket and turned to look at me. “What do you think, Angelina? Is this good enough to go meet Mr. Luca?” Luca was the second-in-command of the Corleone family in Newford. This time, in their selection of a godson, his approval came first. I leaned against the doorframe, a slim cigarette between my fingers.

He was just a dog, never knowing how to value what he had right in front of him, always craving whatever glittered in other men’s hands. I looked away, disgusted. Then I felt Lorenzo tense up as we stepped out of the center’s spotlight, and it caught my attention. A man who looked like a butler approached us. “Patriarch Greco. Mrs. Greco,” he greeted with respect. Lorenzo nodded, but I could feel the unease rolling off him. “His Majesty invites you to his private box,” the man said, pointing. My gaze followed toward a more discreet staircase at the back.

“The only rightful owner of the spot ‘The Don’ is Axell Leonardo, and I trust him with my life with the lives of the family. That is my opinion, Don Corleone” “I am sorry, assistant Corleonne, but Axell foolishly left his position as the Don when he lost his family. He is weak and I fear he can not handle pressure” “Pressure? Losing his parents is mere pressure to you? What if you lost your family would you still stand tall? Of course, not. So, do not cast the child away”

My eyes slightly widened as I turned my head to see Octavious standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, with a black shirt underneath, greatly contrasted with a red tie and as always a trench coat thrown atop his shoulders. It was the same red as his tie and I won't lie and say he didn't look both terrifying and handsome at the same time. He looked like those mob bosses you see in Italian or old British films, all the way down to the hat he always told me was called "the capone". It resembled a fedora and panama.

Masson nodded in agreement, displaying his confidence, and began observing the Corleone and Moretti families seated before him, his eyes narrowed. [Corleone Family] Benjamin Corleone, the aging patriarch of the Corleone family, exuded an air of authority and power. Dressed in a shawl lapel suit, he had a black-and-white beard and a piercing dark brown gaze. Luca "The Snake," Benjamin's trusted lieutenant, was known for his cunning and ruthlessness. Sophia Corleone, Benjamin's daughter, was a femme fatale with a taste for danger. She possessed striking beauty, with blond hair and dark brown eyes like her father, often seen in elegant dresses and expensive jewelry.

He rolled his eyes at Johnny and said, "Yeah? Then what are you waiting for?" Johnny sighed, and Grandpa just rolled his eyes again. "I'm Markus Gravano, grandfather of this dickhead." "I'm Alessia," I said shyly. "I know exactly who you are, my child," he said, looking at his wife with a smile. "Come on, let's get something to eat, shall we?" Clarissa said, much to my relief.

"Always plant an ear in your own territory. That was your first lesson to me." I waved. Two men carried in a steel briefcase. Inside were yellowed original ledgers. "That missing shipment from five years ago," I said, tossing a ledger onto the table, "You sold it to a fed. And I used myself as bait to stop the deal. As for colluding with Corleone…" I smiled and looked toward the door. It burst open. Chris walked in with eight gunmen. Each of them carried a wooden case. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. I'm Chris Corleone. As of today, I'm the co-holder of all of Falcone's properties."

If Steven had indeed disclosed her secret, this conversation would have taken a drastically different turn. But the relief quickly subsides as she notices the bitterness forming on Alexander's face. "The thing is, Ms. Johnson," Alexander begins, his voice loaded with power, "you need to understand that Steven is MY lawyer, and so he will do as I tell him. I have made my decisions on... matters... and those matters will hold." He pauses, his eyes narrowing. "What was it that Michael Corleone said? 'It's nothing personal; it's strictly business.'" Sophia's mind races as she considers Alexander's response.