Pietro Avengers Novels & Stories

He stalked from end of the room to the other, muttering the question over and over again. Because I'd wanted to torture the bastard to within an inch or his life. But Pietro was right, I should have put a bullet in his skull and saved us this trouble. “I'll find them. Stop that fucking pacing, it's dizzying.” I snapped back, glaring at the back of his head. The house was swimming around my head as I dialed Marco again. He didn't answer again. “Shit, Vector could kill her,” Pietro said. He stopped, his chest heaving with one stagnant inhale after the last. “Vector was working with Alberto.”

He continued, “Am I wrong? This land actually belongs to Giovani Beneli, and you are just a watchdog.” On the way here, Kaze had received Pietro’s background information on his phone. Pietro was working for Giovani, and Giovani once served under Draco. Pietro was infuriated by the disrespect, but he forcefully suppressed the anger. His brows furrowed as he asked, “You know my boss?” “I don’t,” Kaze said. He did not need to know someone who served under his men. “No? Are you fucking with me?!” Pietro bellowed as his expression turned vicious.

“Yes, to be honest, I don't want my children to live this kind of life, and I hope you don't misunderstand me. It's simply that I want a peaceful life, far from here, where I don't have to live in fear that something might happen to us. I don't want my children to follow the same path as their father.” “Well, if that's your answer, in that case, as you said a few days ago, today we are forming an alliance to avenge those who have harmed us.” We shake hands and toast this deal with a good glass of brandy. “I don't think we need to sign any document since we are adults and cannot go back on our word.” I nod in agreement. “As for what happened to Pietro, do you know anything?” I ask, wasting no

Vlad dropped an iPad on the centre table and pushed it to my front. "Dimitri Pietro. Age twenty-nine. An orphan who grew up in an orphanage with his elder brother, the late Giovanni Pietro. He joined the Bratva family when he was just twenty, and his brother, twenty-three. He is one of Bratva's strong hitmen." I scrolled through the pictures displayed on the screen of the iPad while listening to Vlad explain.

the man sneers while grimacing from the pain. "Let's see about that. Neither the highest mountain nor the deepest ocean could stop the Petrov Mafia to finish all of you. You just declared war and we accept it" it was Donny Petrov who speaks before turning to Arvin and his grandsons. Donny Petrov may have weakened by time but his command is perpetually venomous. "Let everyone know. And let those bastards' bosses know we accept their declaration of war" An order from the Petrov Mafia Godfather. ****😳****

I took that as a good sign but I kept my face a placid mask so she wouldn't see my gratification. "My name is Sydney Holt. I'm the Alpha of Alphas. It's nice to meet you, Alpha Victor," a meek smile crawled onto her mouth, "if I remember correctly, and there's a chance that I don't," a frown stole that smile as she glared at our joined hands, "you hated being called Alpha." I dropped her hand. "He still hates it," Saint piped in with an elated wave and an almost child-like grin showing off both rows of her teeth, "hi, I'm Saint, the Big Man's Beta. Really is an honor to meet you."

"You didn't say a thing about an engagement. What's going on?" An impatient Pietro brought a swift interruption to whatever answer I was going to offer Celia. He used his grip on my nape to angle my face back up to his own. "Get inside your house, Celia Vaughn. If you value your life." He snapped, not bothering to even look at her. Fear gripped Celia at the sound of her name. Of course, he did his findings. Pietro isn't just any man. He's a goddamn cartel boss with information swimming to his feet.

Slap. “Do you want our entire family destroyed?” Gabriele roared. Clutching his phone, Pietro stormed out—his mind in chaos. How could a woman supposedly from a small town wield such terrifying power?

I mused. “That's actually more than just a little probable,” Pietro confirmed. “I even have a theory on who she truly was.” He snickered, inching back again. “There was this case where a wealthy Italian family died in a car accident. There was a rumor that a young heiress survived. As I recall, their last name was something like Ve—” A swishing sound cut off his words, and we both pulled out our guns. Pietro's eyes widened, then turned lifeless. A heartbeat later, he fell face-first to the ground, revealing a hole in a windowsill and a much larger one in the back of his head.

The group of princesses behind me made a squeal as the young man sauntered out of the crowd into the clearing in the middle of the hall. “Deucalion,” I whispered, looking at the selected prince. I couldn’t see most of him from where I stood, but he had beautiful black hair just like Valerian just longer, reaching almost his waist. He wore a red jacket over a pair of red trousers. He caught my stare, and I instinctively turned back to the announcer. He pulled a parchment from the second box and having already been caught staring at the handsome prince, the thought of having the dance with him was no longer appealing.