Orgulloso Novels & Stories

‘Fottuto traditore’ [Fucking traitor] He snarled at his brother, ‘Come puoi tradire la tua carne e il tuo sangue? Papà aveva ragione sei un fottuto codardo. Ti ucciderà quando scoprirà cosa hai fatto; [How can you betray your own flesh and blood? Papa was right you are a fucking coward. He will kill you when he finds out what you have done]

" He said furiously. "You know, you're so full of yourself and you think even as rich as you are you can get anything you want. Let me remind you vividly that my Lola is not and would never be a property I would fight for. The respect I have for that girl is this high that not even you can give her. What makes you think you're perfect? Well, I dare you to lose all your money. It's then you'll know how worthless you are as a being '' Ben insulted and hurt his pride but was money the only thing that sustained him? He wasn't going to let this jerk get away with this.

— Yes, that would be nice, he grumbles. — Sorry, darling, but humility is a luxury I leave to the ugly. I know I’m beautiful, incredibly beautiful. And I love to hear it, to repeat it, to sing it. It’s a sweet melody to my ears. You, with your baboon face, do you want compliments or lies? Choose wisely, it’s dangerous. — Auracio, talk to your whore; I don’t like her disrespecting me.

“Her place? She’s not a possession, Guapo. She’s a person. Maybe that’s what you keep forgetting.” Guapo’s anger snapped like a whip. “Don’t start with me, Giovanni. You’re the last person I’ll take moral lessons from. What do you even know about loyalty? About leadership? You spend your days drinking and your nights chasing skirts. You’re a disgrace to our bloodline.” Giovanni smirked, his tone calm but sharp. “At least I’m honest about who I am. You pretend to be noble while you’re still haunted by your ego.” That was it. Guapo lunged.

("Betty is Betty, not my mama. My mama is gone. Pablo said I’m an orphan. A bastard." My jaw clenched at the harshness of the words, anger simmering beneath my skin. Lilianna gasped, her voice gentle as she corrected him. "Francesco, no, non lo sei. È una brutta parola. Non diciamo così, d'accordo?" ("Francesco, no, you are not. That’s a bad word. We don’t say that, alright?") He nodded, his gaze dropping to his lap, shame shadowing his features. “I’m sorry. I won’t say it again.” (Mi dispiace. Non lo dirò più."

"Be grateful you got to hug me." "Excuse me? I should be grateful? Are you macho? You're handsome, but you're skinny!" Manuela retorted, rolling her eyes as she walked out, making Uno furrow his brow. "Did you just insult my body? Who's skinny?" Uno yelled, following her. "I'm not taking it back; it's true." Manuela smirked, only to be blocked by Uno. Her eyes widened as he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique, causing her to cover her eyes.

the words didn't land the way they used to. They didn't hit him. They hit me. My stomach churned, nausea curling at the edges of my anger. Ace tilted his head slightly, his voice low and calm and infuriating as he murmured, "Le cose che dico e faccio per voi. Fa male al mio orgoglio, ma ne vale la pena (The things I say and do for you. It hurts my pride but it's worth it.)" ...What? He turned away, walking toward the door.

Fino a perdere tutti i tuoi sensi: Until you lose all your senses. Non ci sarà pietà, solo piacere: There will be no mercy, only pleasure

my eyes trailed to his cock and he grabbed it, kind of examining it and a blush crept up my cheeks. “Aurelio…” I called with gritted teeth and he looked at me. “What? Feeling shy?” He asked. “Put that back”. “Mi sento offeso" (I feel insulted). “You just finished riding my cock and now you refer to it as that?” He asked, looking serious, but the playfulness and pettiness in his eyes couldn't be mistaken. “Aurelio?...” I called, jabbing his side and he winced, as if that small hit would actually hurt him.

Delfina stepped near the reception area and paused at the argument. “Sir, how about, I offer to personally pay for the dress for your girlfriend.” “Did I say I have a girlfriend?” “Your mistress perhaps.” “See here,” Furio’s voice carried through the store, yet he barely raised his voice, “I do not have a girlfriend, a lover, a mistress or a wife and if I did, you wouldn’t know about it because you’re so far beneath me, you don’t deserve to know my name let alone the name of anyone I regard with any kind of value.”