Novel & Cerita Nate Rossi Death

The smoke trailed upward, mingling with the heaviness that hung in the air, as Yohan contemplated the situation, his mind filled with questions and suspicions. Natalie couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. "Rose is dead," she said, her voice trembling with grief. Yohan remained silent. He couldn't reveal that he had witnessed everything from the glass door of the ward, unable to share the truth that he already knew. Natalie continued, her voice heavy with sorrow. "You should have been there with Sara. She is devastated." Yohan's internal struggle was apparent, his silence speaking volumes.

Then we rushed to the seashore when I could smell gasoline from the car that was about to explode. "About Lady Nathalie. Is she dead?" Justine wanted to beat the hell out of me with his insistence. "No. We can't tell them that. However, we can tell everyone that we killed the leader of the rogues tonight." It's the least I could tell Justine to make sure we are on the same page. "Well. That was one of the truths that you answered me with tonight, brother Josh. So she's dead." "Could you please stop asking questions, Just?" Because of too much irritation, I dropped his body to the white sands and walked three times my regular walking speed.

Mateo sat on the counter, swinging his legs, clutching a crumpled piece of paper Elena had given him that morning. “When is Mamá coming back?” he asked. Rosa’s hands shook as she turned the sign to CLOSED. “Soon, cariño.” “She never stayed this long, I miss my mama” Mateo said sadly. Rosa looked away so he wouldn’t see her cry. ************************ By dawn, the paperwork was complete. Cause of death: Gunshot wound. Time of death: 9:42 p.m. Next of kin: None listed. Elena Rossi was officially dead.

-———————————————————— A week after Rico’s death, the police report was released, the headline flashing across newspapers and television screens: **"Detective Rico Morales Found Dead in Apparent Suicide." At the precinct, detectives gathered in somber silence, discussing the details of the report. The forensic team had found a glass laced with poison, Rico’s fingerprints smudged across it, alongside a handwritten suicide note. The note was short but sorrowful, expressing his regret over his failures in solving recent high-profile cases, including those of his friends Jack and Carlos.

I was about to open the door when Cole grabbed my hand. "What's going on between you and—" I knocked his hand away before he could finish his sentence and slipped into the car. I looked at Cole and Andy through the rearview mirror. Their figures looked rather lonely as the wind howled around them. Although I only treated Hayden as a friend, I no longer had an obligation to explain our relationship to Cole. That night, the massive billboard in the heart of the city broadcast news of Natalie's death. She had met a rather gruesome fate, being run off a bridge by a truck.

My heart wasn't beating, it was slamming into my ribs like a trapped bird. "Is he dead?" I barked out. My voice sounded wrong. My own ears didn't recognize it. "No... no, Boss. But his friend is. Noah. He is gone." The world tilted. It didn't spin, it just fell out from under me. Tears didn't stream down my face, they fucking exploded. I was gasping for air, clutching the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. "I just left the hospital," Rojit continued, his voice shaking. "We have a trail on Leo, we are following it up now."

"I'd like to report someone, a body still breathing. Street, Sunset Curve, no 54 basement. I believe it's a Jane Doe, Hurry." Kyle said as he ended the call making sure that the person didn't track the phone. He exhaled as he looked down at the body of Nate who had fallen. He was dead, eyes opened, face full of fright, he swallowed hard. This wasn't what he wanted to do at all. He was caught off by the sounds of someone sobbing, he had forgotten the reason he killed Nate. Clarisse had scrambled to the wall, pressing herself to it as she forced herself to cry silently, tears rolling down her face as she rocked her body.

ALESSANDRO’S POV I strode down the dimly lit west wing corridor, my footsteps echoing against the marble like distant gunshots. The meeting with my capos had stretched well into the night, leaving a sour taste in my mouth that no amount of whiskey could wash away. “Don, the evidence is clear, Valentino Rossi gave the order. Your father’s death was not an accident. It was a hit, planned and paid for,” Rocco’s voice kept ringing in my head, sharp and insistent.

"What's happened, Rocco?" I asked with a fever as I hurried into my SUV. "Niles DeMarco's dead, Tony Rizzio's been shot, Mario Pugliese's dead, and Ollie DiNiro has been shot, Sir," Rocco answered as he continued to wipe the blood and sweat from his face. "Who was it?" I demanded, as I looked back at my cousin. "Who the hell hit me? Who had the gall enough to hit the most potent family without a blessing?"

I had spent my life living in Rohan’s shadow, waiting for his approval, and now I was the one who decided the family’s fate. I reached for my phone and dialed Ross. "It’s done," I said as soon as he answered. "Rohan is dead. And my brother is the one who killed him." Ross laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated delight. "You’re a natural, Zane. Truly. I’ll make sure the press gets the tip. The 'Callahan Massacre'—it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" "Just make sure the police find the evidence in Kane’s office," I reminded him. "I left his cufflink under the sideboard."