Pantalone X Dottore Novels & Stories

"You ha‌v‍e to eat, Chloe. The doctor s​aid yo‍u need⁠ iro⁠n and f​olic acid." Lorenzo stood o​ver the kitchen island, l‍ooking like a mob boss cr‌osse‍d with⁠ a⁠n anxio‍us p‌astry chef. He was wearing black slacks and a d‍ark d​ress shi‌rt with t⁠he sleeves r​oll‌ed up, the bandages on his⁠ shoulder still vis⁠ib‍ly bulking u‌n‌der the fabri‍c.‌

Dante. He was seated at the far-right corner of the restaurant, his presence impossible to miss. His tailored dinner suit fit him like a second skin, accentuating his broad shoulders, slim waist, and powerful frame. The crisp white shirt beneath his midnight-black blazer contrasted sharply with his sun-kissed skin, while his silk tie added a touch of understated elegance. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his chiseled jawline hinted at strength and control. When he shifted in his seat, the soft sheen of his Italian leather shoes caught the light. He looked like the embodiment of a perfect man—confident, composed, and utterly captivating.

“ Ha ha ha ha ! Thank you brother-in-law . “ said Valeria . “ I am also happy for my brother . He is quite lucky . You are a great girl . “ said Axel with a happy smile . “ Thank you very much……brother-in-law . “ said Valeria with a smile . While they were celebrating the happy news , someone knocked on the door then entered inside . They turned their head and saw a beautiful doctor with black hair coming inside , holding a file . “ Hello , I am the doctor in charge for mr Axel Danados’s analysis and check ups . “ said the female doctor when she entered . Antonio opened his eyes wide in surprise as he looked a the doctor . Axel was also surprised when he looked at her . “ Isn’t Alex my docto

I had repeated that to myself like a mantra for the last twenty minutes. The side door chimed, sliding open with a soft hiss. Dante walked in alone. He had discarded his armor—no suit jacket, no silk tie. He wore only a soft, dark charcoal t-shirt and black tailored trousers. The simplicity of his clothes made him look less like a distant billionaire and more like the dangerous, physical force he actually was. "Doctor," he greeted, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that instantly made the sterile room feel too small. "Mr. Moretti," I replied, maintaining my clinical distance. I gestured to the examination table in the center of the room. "Please. Sit and remove your shirt so I can inspect

] Dante huffed and shook his head, ‘Non abbastanza bravo dottore, voglio delle risposte e se non può darmele le cercherò altrove e toglierò il mio sostegno finanziario alla sua organizzazione.’ [Not good enough Doctor I want answers and if you cannot give them to me I will seek them elsewhere and remove my financial assistance from your organisation.]

Elena sat in a leather armchair, a teacup balanced perfectly on her knee, her expression hardening into absolute venom the moment she saw me. Across from her sat Enzo Valenti, an older man with silver-streaked hair and a tailored suit that practically screamed old money and spilled blood. Next to him was a younger woman—presumably his daughter. Immaculately dressed in a conservative cream dress, her manicured fingers twisting a diamond ring on her left hand. And then there was Frank. He was standing behind his massive mahogany desk, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, a glass of amber liquid halfway to his lips. When his eyes met mine, his jaw tightened so hard I heard the click of h

His eyes immediately locked onto mine. “He is here boss,” the maid said, her head slightly bowed. I wasn’t prepared for this. Dante Santoro wasn’t the old, worn mafia lord I had imagined. He was my age, maybe a little older, with dark, intense eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He had a rugged handsomeness, the kind that made my breath catch in my throat. His gaze didn’t waver as he scanned me, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “The doctor is here,” he said, his voice low, and controlled, sending an electric shock straight to my core.

Derrick teases, making Wyatt snigger. To my dismay, Jartre sets me back on my feet, but on the bright side, I can now take in his full appearance. I blink in surprise when I realise he’s come dressed in the club’s theme. And oh mamma does he look fine. He’s wearing a low-cut, white satin shirt with open cuffs, and black crocodile-skin pants with matching boots. He’s like a sexy high-fashion pirate, and I’d walk his plank any day. I lick my lips and shake my head straight, quickly taking his hand in mine and guiding him around to the other side of the booth.

"Trust me when I say they're gonna do something illegal." **** "That is the craziest idea I've ever heard!" "It's an idea alright," Dante grumbled. The doctor glared at him through his glasses that were perched on the bridge of his nose. His face looked red from anger and had green veins popping around his bald head. Dario rocked on his heels looking around the office cluttered with files, different lab coats, two different colors of wigs, and three stethoscopes.

Enrico asked, "What kind? Should I have a tailor flown in from Lendorwich to take your measurements?" "No. Skip the big labels. Just light-colored clothes from the mall." So, the Don of the Valenti family, a man known for his cold restraint and aristocratic polish, shed his severe formal wear. He put on a beige knit sweater and casual pants. The look sat wrong on him. Dante copied what Augusto did. He went alone to Silvia's favorite bakery to stand in line. The line was long, mostly young students and couples. He waited among them, tall enough to feel like a threat.