Novel Set In Italy Novels & Stories

NOTE: The plot, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Original photos are not mine, thus credits to the rightful owners. The use of any visual media is solely for writing purposes only. No copyright infringement intended. Do not redistribute, reproduce, and copy. Plagiarism and exploitation is a crime! CHAPTER 1: The Beginning Sicily, Italy

In his line of work, he’d learned quickly that delayed gratification only made collecting his prize that much sweeter. Still, he ducked his head, and with his eyes fixed intently on her luscious mouth, he nudged the tip of her nose with his. “What homework? The only thing you need to know is to let yourself get lost in Italy with a beautiful woman.” He let his voice fall, low and husky, enjoying the noticeable shiver of delight it sent over her. “And to eat your fill of gelato. I’ve already done the first part. We’re in the motherland of gelato, darlin’. Let’s get on with the second.”

"What did you said? I am? Being unreasonable?" "No, no, I mean--" Anna put away her plate and with a disappointed face, she glared at Lynn. "I guess if I said I was going to Italy with my parents, you wouldn't say that I might be in danger, would you?" Lynn stuttered at Anna's question. "It's not like that, Anna." "Italy became dangerous because Nicholas Adams also went there. That means it was Nicholas Adams who was dangerous."

Recalling Nickolas’s face as I lie in the bed in the cheap motel I am renting to maintain cover, he had insisted this was a foolish expedition to go on but I had been so hell bent on chasing after her. The first day I had landed in Italy, my hell had begun. My bags were stolen as a sort of welcome present and I was almost mugged, luckily for me I had a knife on me and was able to fight them off. That had not been easy and I had nursed the little injuries I sustained for some days.

The thought of being married off to a random, bald, older man with a stomach overshadowing his cranium disgusted me. Regardless of my feelings, the inevitable was emerging—a pact struck with Papa upon my arrival in Italy. In Papa's office, we awaited the late arrival of the future groom. Papa glanced at his watch for the sixth time. An hour had gone, and I was becoming so impatient. "Perhaps he won't come. If he does, inform him he wasted your time and call off the arrangement." During my stay in Italy, I discovered the threatening side of Papa, a horror beyond the strict father dealing with Camillo. The citizens here were dangerous, often armed, and our residence was filled with armed guard

"Heard a man was beaten to death last week. It's a good thing you took some days off. I don't know why you insist on staying here. You could move this little Pastry down the block." "That's just rumors. I've been here for four months, Lola, and I've never seen anything like that. The place looks eerie but I don't think it's that bad." I shrugged. "If you say so. We gotta start packing." She said and I nodded. It was time to go home. Italy in winter was a good season for the weather but terrifying for night walks. “Sounds like a vampire.” “Sounds like money,” she says with a smirk. “You should deliver pastries there. Get yourself a secret billionaire boyfriend.”

Oliver said, his words stirring her from her reverie. Celine nodded, her breath a shallow ripple in the stillness. She knew that Ermanno would stop at nothing to find his brother, and that this was a battle that could be won with blood and bullets. The plane's tires kissed the Italian tarmac, heralding Celine's arrival in a land of both beauty and bloodshed. "Italy is a nice place," Oliver murmured, his words dancing with a hidden warning. "Nice, unless it brings trauma," Celine quipped, a bittersweet chuckle rippling through her.

“You know, I've been to Italy a few times. Most of my business partners are there. Half the Packs, too.” His gaze darkened, like my question stirred memories. Who would have thought that he understands Italian? It has never crossed my mind. My favourite author Marietta, was a werewolf who has her roots in Italy and from the way she talks about her place, I've wanted to go there too. I was about to ask him another question, but his phone rang again. He didn't pick up the first time. He got down from the bed and made his way towards the window and I used that opportunity to admire him. He keeps surprising me all the time.

His cocktail voice made my eyes snap open. I glared at him. “I swear I will scream.” He grinned wider. “And I swear no one will care. We’re in Italy now. Screaming’s practically a love language here.” I groaned, but my feet hit the ground anyway. The breeze was warm and soft, the air smelled like lemons and sea salt, and it physically hurt to admit it was... nice. So this is Italy. I blinked at him, then looked past his shoulder. Oh. Oh no.

She happily exited his mansion. While a small smirk didn't leave his lips for even a once. Now it was a time for him to claim what was his. Not every love brings roses and sweets. Some prefer thorns and poison. ______________________________________ The Italian that I am using in the book is from G****e translate so maybe there will be some errors. _____________________________________ Next will be updated soon. Do like and give feedback. Spread the purple heart.