Novel & Cerita Murderino Book Club

‘Friends! Listen to me’, cried the young man in white blood-stained chiton, whose sister has been forcibly abducted by the prince of this tribe. Everyone had gathered there to listen to what Argus had to say. Argus, along with Selene and a few others stood on a high platform in front of the fort, made especially for announcements and delivering speeches. Fabian has been carried to his chambers for rest and treatment. The corpse of Karmen was covered by a cloth and was laid on a jeweled bed nearby. All around people talking in hushed tones. Women were silently shedding tears. Men were whispering the grave tidings among each other. Everyone had one question: who killed him and why?

“No way you’re just some girl with a sad story. Where’s the one who melted steel in my hand? Where’s that creature?” My lips parted, but no words came. “I know she’s in there.” His breath brushed my ear, low and lethal. “So either you start talking, or I test how deep I can cut before you stop breathing.” The knife shifted, steel cold, the edge biting against my skin. “What exactly do you want to know?” He didn't reply. I tsked. I tried to push against him once more but that was useless. I let out a shaky breath. “The people who killed me name was my brother, named Marcus Vale. Damon Cross.”

I feel my hands sweating with nervousness. I can hear the cars stopping in front of the house. Slowly I walk to the wall-size windows, and I peak out. I am curious to see my future dear husband. One thing is for sure. He should sleep with one eye open because I might kill him in his sleep and become a black widow. I have no problem with that. I close my eyes, shaking my head. I think my books have a bad influence on me. This would be a good plot. I make a mental note to write that story. A mafia story. Who knows. It might even be a best-selling story.

The night before played on a loop, from every time Six stopped himself from killing me all the way to Marissa’s empty eyes. I wiped a tear away and tried not to think about her family. Darren, her brother, was once a crush of mine, and when we were in school, they were very close, even living states away. The devastation of not only her family, but the families of all the other people who perished. Which reminded me of Indianapolis and Cincinnati. All the lives lost to cover up the death of three men. Three men with a distinct marking. “Do you have them?” I asked as I toyed with a fry.

The horrifying scenes of the murders and blood in that building where we were held hostage haunted my mind and caused goosebumps to break out in my body. After long, depressing minutes of crying out my pain and nursing the deep wounds of betrayal, I staggered up to my feet and held out my phone towards the board. I clicked a picture of the plan board and grabbed the files and pictures. As I began to walk away, my eyes caught a large book peeking out of the drawer. I paused and shuffled back, then pulled the drawer open. The book fell out and I bent closer to take a closer look at the book. On the cover, it was written HISTORY AND ETHICS OF THE SCORPIO.

The sun was totally down and the sky was pale gold in color. He dusted it as they gathered around it, he turned the front cover and saw a name, boldly written in red ink, looks more like blood. *SARAH BELLOS. IN LIBRO DE MORTE* "Whoa!" Elena exclaimed taking the book from him. "It belongs to Sarah?" Laura asked as they stared at each other. "Then Sarah was the one here and the killer was after her" Alex suggested with folded arms as he thought deeply. "Let's get out of here, I don't like this fog and these crows, seems creepy to me. And hell, it's getting dark" Peter said as he stared at how foggy the graveyard was getting and they agreed to what he said observing the fog and the crow too.

“Enlighten me.” “It means they’ll open the whole book, Rino. Money laundering. Arms trafficking. Shell companies. Offshore accounts. The Lombardi construction fronts. All of it. You think they won’t? You think the Feds don’t smell blood when Arturo Lombardi's son paints a club red on a Saturday night? They’ll start connecting dots that’ve stayed buried for years.” I looked at him, “Let them dig. They won’t find anything.” He dragged both hands down his face. “Christ, you don’t get it, do you? You don’t buy your way out with a handshake anymore. You’re in Chicago. You killed thirty people on American soil. You shot a civilian, Rino.”

"Yes." Fredo's eyes flickered toward Alessia, then back to Luca. "There are whispers," he said. "Seraphina's people have been asking questions. Donna Angelica's private seer visited the market and paid a man for hearsay about blood rites. If the Atlan clan learns the book containing late Mr bianchi and late Mafia Morano oath is here..... " Luca did not let him finish. He moved, fluid and precise, setting the book into a locked safe and sealing it with a combination that seemed to pull the air taut. "No one outside this house will touch that book," he said. "Not if I can help it."

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Nikolai “The Devil” Costello, El Padrino. I shook my head, nope, not going to believe it unless I talk to him myself. I made my way out of the kitchen and went straight to the library. Since I had nothing to do, I settled on reading a book. I surveyed the huge library and finally found a book that seemed interesting enough to read. “Mafia and Mafiosi by Henner Hess” With a book in my hand, I walked back to Nikolai's seat to read but halted in my steps as I saw him already sitting on it.