Miles Moretti Novels & Stories

I was the biological daughter of the Moretti family, stolen and deliberately switched at birth. When they finally brought me home, everyone believed I had come for their money and power. No one said it more often than Bianca, the daughter they had raised in my place. She said poor people knew better than anyone how to look helpless, and how to trick the rich out of everything they owned. For three years, I tried to prove her wrong. I kept the surname Vale. I stayed away from Moretti Holdings. I refused every expensive gift they offered me. Then my father announced that the family was facing a liquidity crisis. Several core accounts had been frozen, and three of their transport routes had bee

Eric continued laughing as he walked back to his seat. "I'll just give him a watch... or a bracelet," Violet said to herself. It was lunch time when Violet and Eric were called by Mr. Warren. It was about Georgio Moretti--a mysterious businessman who does not like the attention. Mr. Warren gave them an assignment. They need to know who this Georgio Moretti is. They received a tip from an informant that Georgio Moretti killed a lot of people but gave a lot to the less fortunate. In some ways, he's like a modern-day Robin Hood.

We ride for a few hours before we arrive at the Moretti compound. We pull up and climb down. Entering the mansion, the atmosphere is sombre. The other heads are here. I shake hands with them and they are all not sure why we have been summoned. But we don’t wait long. Don Antonio Moretti enters the room and we all nod our heads in respect to him. He looks like he has aged drastically, but then there is Teagan. She looks like she hasn’t slept and has cried. What the fuck has happened? “Thank you for coming at short notice. We appreciate it. Please sit,” Antonio speaks as he takes his seat and pulls a distraught Teagan onto his lap.

Antonio stood in front of him, expression unreadable, a silent executioner waiting for a confession. “Tell me, Moretti,” Antonio’s voice was eerily calm. “How much have you funneled into Nuovo Ordine?” Moretti swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wrong answer. BANG! A gunshot ripped through Moretti’s kneecap. He screamed, body convulsing from the searing pain. Antonio crouched in front of him, a smirk playing at his lips. “Let’s try this again.” “I—I’m just a middleman!”

Alessandro Moretti is a conniving man. One that orchestrates the world so that everything can fall into place the way he wants it to. And right now what he wants is me, so he's eliminating all potential threats. First, he got Sammy that job interview, then Phoebe a job at the club and a gig on a reality show. And just when Sammy got a bit worried about me not spending time with her, he invited his friend over for dinner. A friend beyond famous in the entire world, who people very rarely see out in public.

“You think stepping foot in this godforsaken palace of pleasure pays the toll? No, no, my friend. I want something better. Access to your northern shipment route. Temporarily. One month. That’s all.” I didn’t answer immediately. He saw the pause and lifted a brow. “I could give the name to someone else. Your rivals pay just as well. They also bring better wine.” “One month,” I said. “You touch nothing marked for Sicily.” “Done.” He poured himself a glass of something amber, swirling it before taking a sip. “The name…” he said, voice lower now, “is Moretti.” My eyes narrowed. “Carlos?” He gave a slow nod. “Mmh. Carlos Moretti. Young. Loud. Still piss-wet behind the ears but reckless enough to

The driver rapped, joining him. Ignoring him, Damien took a few strides until he got to where Scarlett laid. After examining the scratch on his car, he checked her pulse. “She isn't dead.” He announced, and the driver let out a sigh of relief, wiping the beads of perspiration from his forehead. Measuring six feet, two inches tall, Damien rose with his hands tucked in his pockets. His height and physique made him command attention anywhere he went, coupled with the intimidating aura which he possessed. Thirty-year-old Damien Steel was the current leader of the Moretti family, a notorious and one of the most powerful gangs that controlled the region.

“Anyways, it looks like you guys are holding down things over there. Before Dimitri returns to the shadows, tell him to visit the pack house and give me an update." I ended the call. …………………………… The restaurant was all polished marble and silent bodyguards. Antonio Moretti rose from his seat, his gold watch glinting under the chandeliers. Antonio Moretti, he was a man in his late thirties, older than me by far but not nearly as rich or as accomplished. He had at least a decade to carry his family empire and he had ruined half of it. The Morettis used to be respectable partners and businessmen in our world, but with their oldest Antonio at the head of affairs, things only kept going downhill.

The amount of skin she had to show to get the damn payment though wasn’t exactly comfortable. Jon Moretti had vanished, seemingly evaporating into thin air that night in the darkened parking lot over two weeks ago. But while his physical presence was absent, he remained, infiltrating her moments of peace with seductive brown eyes and that irresistible cocky smirk. It was palpable. She caught glimpses of him in her peripherals, hiding in the shadows of the floor, heard his raspy voice calling her over to order a drink – but every time she was met with someone else, her stomach sank.

She was the only girl he ever looked at that way, the only girl he would kill for, the only girl he would kneel for. "I came... here for the document review," she said, offering a tight smile as she slid into the chair across from him. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, then took his seat opposite hers, never breaking eye contact. He crossed his legs majestically like a king among men. Dante Moretti was a legend. A mafia lord, his name still roared louder than most alive. He can ruin anything and still gain respect. He had power, wealth, and influence. A devil In a tailored suit.