One Italian Summer Novels & Stories

Alana and Leo then strolled through the streets of Venice with wide smiles. They walked hand in hand, and Alana's plan this time was going exactly as she wanted. Alana felt satisfied riding the gondola accompanied by her husband's melodious voice, and afterwards, of course, with her stomach needing to be filled, Alana immediately made a list of foods she would never miss while in Venice, Italy. The first item on the list was to try the smooth taste of Italian gelato.

“Baby, I’ll always take care of you.” It was a cold December. Fog pressed against the windows downstairs in the kitchen, and the sky was constantly overcast. The walk from my car to the office always sent chills down my spine. The weather in central Italy could be so drastically different. The summers were so hot and humid that it could be unbearable, and the winters turned so cold that it almost snowed. If I had to choose, I preferred winter. It was too hot in the summer to wear my expensive suits.

Immediately behind him, a young Elena, her venom newly honed like a snake, placed her hand on his bloody shoulder, gazing at the camera with an arrogant, triumphant smile. Below the photograph, in the cyber report, was a file name in Italian: "Il Bastardo di Napoli" (The Bastard of Naples). My fingers froze on the keyboard. I slowly lifted my head from the screen and looked at my husband, standing like a stone statue behind me, under the dim red alarm lights. For the first time, the raw, terrifying past hidden behind those luxurious suits, those enormous yachts in the Mediterranean, that possessive and arrogant mafia leader aura, was laid bare before me.

A fleeting surge of adrenaline and heat that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. This was the right thing to do. I had to pull myself together and avoid him from now on. And who even knew if Ivan really had feelings for me or if it was just some thrill for him? He could’ve just been playing around. He’s still young, too young. He’s impulsive, and people his age feel things so intensely one day and forget all about it the next. Besides, I’m not staying here forever. Less than two weeks from now, I’ll be back in Manila. Back to reality. There’s no point in complicating things. Ivan will move on, and all of this will just be a strange summer memory we both pretend never happened.

“She is too loud. The principal will pass out.” “But Nonno is noisy too.” Ash’s grin exploded, tiny teeth on full display. “Nonno always yells ‘andiamo’ super loud,” he said, copying Zane’s father’s Italian accent. “Yesterday Nonno and Nonna said, ‘Ash, next week we go to Italy, amore mio, we eat gelato until your stomach protests.’” He wrapped his tongue around gelato in his own Italian-Colombian way. Gla-to. I held back a smile. Of course Zade Romano and Miranda Romano thought taking a hyperactive grandson to Italy counted as a vacation. Normal people called that cardio training.

“N-no... I... I didn't sell her. A man... He wanted her?—” My voice turned ice cold. "Who?" "I... I never saw his face. He communicated through encrypted channels. But... but he spoke with an Italian accent; that I can tell you." I hurled him into the chair, the force nearly sending him crashing to the ground. "Get him on the phone right now and find out where he took Summer,” I said, my tone deceptively calm. "I-I can’t." His breath hitched in his throat. "He would only reach out to me," he stammered, his eyes wild.

It’s a two-hour and twenty-minute flight from London to Olbia Coast, Italy. When we arrive at the airport, a car is standing by for us at the airport. After thirty more minutes of driving, we got to the resort where we will stick around for the next week. We check in to our room and immediately both Briand and I fall on the bed. This has been a tiring trip. I have always wanted to visit Italy for the summer. Last year Veronica and I planned a trip to Italy, then my papa’s fourth marriage happened. His wife, Genelia, is not someone I count on. I will never depend on her with my pet, let alone my siblings.

,he answered. "Okay fine. Please where are you taking me to?",she asked in a mild tone. "Italy",he answered calmly too. "It-,Italy", she stammered. Andre did not respond to her anymore. He had put his headphones on. ******************** Vanessa's head became the land of thoughts. She had different thoughts in her head. Going to Italy was a dream come true. Italy to her was a land of memories and she was on the verge of going to create a new memory. She had always loved everything about Italy. Her favorite meals were The Italian Pasta and Pizza. There was an Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills, it was her favorite and most visited restaurant. Her celebrity crush is a football player in Italy.

All Amanda wanted was to make peace with Felix, suddenly an idea occurred to Amanda's head to find Felix's office address. *** "Wow, what are you cooking Amanda ?? Does it smell really good?" Bram asked Amanda "Daddy, want to try it? This is Fettucini Alfredo, a typical Italian dish, please try it," said Amanda to Bram while tasting the fettucini. "Mmm, Dad who has been to Italy tried the original fettucini lost to yours," said Bram praising Amanda. "Ah, really??" said Amanda smiling shyly "If that's the case, please take it for lunch, daddy and mama," asked Bram

But now, very soon and in less than a week, the whole of Italy would finally see the infamous Jemmah St James of BSL, commonly known as Taleela Makaveli by people who have no idea of my identity. I smile as I transfer the full plate of gnocchi with diced meat into a deep bowl. Sitting on the counter, I savor the long-eaten meal with a glass of apple cider to wash down my food. Tonight has to be the best night in a while. I am back in Italy, my homeland. It feels so good and I can't wait to go out there, look around the streets and have fun with Nikolai and a few of my friends. Thinking about the Elite Gala, my heart lurches. Scenarios of things that are likely to happen to keep playing in my