Novel & Cerita Pietro My Brilliant Friend

Heat slammed into me so hard my cock twitched against my zipper. Half of me wanted to throw my jacket over her, shield her from every bastard at that party—especially ones like me. The other half wanted to drag her into the backseat, hike that dress up, and ruin her completely. Smear that lipstick across her mouth while I fucked her slow and deep, make her moan my name until that sweet innocence shattered. I shoved it down. Hard. She only knew me as Paulo's reliable best friend. And Paulo? He'd put me in the ground if I ever touched her. Brother code plus best-friend loyalty—that's a death sentence.

“I’m okay with dragging you down the aisle while you scream your lungs out, if that’s what it’s going to take. In fact, I might just prefer it.” “You want to humiliate me,” I stated. “No, I want to break you.” My heart wanted to explode, and my lips started trembling. “He is a cancer in the community, so much so that if the world is facing an apocalypse, we’d have to pray he isn’t one of the people to help us. Because I wouldn’t advise anyone to accept his help, even in such a dire situation.” Pietro quoted a paragraph from the journal I wrote. “You wrote this about me without even meeting me in person.” He whispered in my ear. “You have my full attention now, Tesorina.” He added.

he said, his voice curling into my ear, “I didn’t realise how good you’d look in this lighting.” “You mean sweaty and nervous?” “I mean edible.” “You’re impossible.” “You love it.” And I did. But all too soon, the music drifted into its next phase, and Salvatore nodded at me gently. “My turn to share,” he said, then with a smirk added, “Be good.” He passed me to Pietro. “Hello, sunshine,” Pietro said smoothly as he caught me. “How’s the view from this new level of chaos?” “Confusing. Slightly terrifying. And I hate to say this, but it is pretty.”

My nerves were fluttering. " Well, I hope you're happy now," Pietro gnashed his teeth at me. He sat opposite me and his mean expression told me he was disappointed in me. " You would if you'd just screwed a woman like Melinda," I returned. Pietro's face burned. " Santa Maria, that's our brother's wife. If it were someone else, I'd have told you knock yourself out. But Mario? That's something different. Mario would never forgive you for what you've just done."

They only like me because they rely on me, because they benefit from my hard work. “Little miss, we're home," said Pietro, the most compassionate person I know, also our chauffeur. I didn't realise that the car had stopped already. Pietro went out to open the car door for me and I gave him a bright smile as I stepped out of the car. He responded with a delightful smile that revealed his overbite.

He let go of her and typed on his phone then tap on the speech icon “I was there that night I was the one who fought that criminal and I think it was Pietro himself” Brittany rolled her eyes “Unless you know Pietro personally how can you be so sure?”

Chiara I sweep the broom over the floor, getting the last of the crumbs. It’s time to close the restaurant, but my dad is still talking to some neighbors. Judging by the expressions on their faces, it’s a heated discussion. I can only catch a few words here and there, so I inch closer. “He’s crazy if he thinks we’re going to sell,” Pietro—my dad’s best friend and our closest neighbor—says. “I don’t know what’s up with the guys who agreed.”

The terrible scar on his face could easily scare people off. The uninvited guests made Pietro angry. He shouted, “Who the f*ck are you? Get the hell out! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” The man was as fierce as rumored. Pietro’s shout made Deborah sweat nervously. She stammered, “P-Pietro, I’m Deborah. Vincent recommended that I buy a car here.” Upon hearing Deborah, Pietro raised his brows and switched his annoyance for a wide smile. “Deborah Quint? I see. Welcome. Please have a seat.”

My legs felt shaky from riding him for hours. “You smell like perfume that isn’t yours,” he said quietly. “And your eyes… there’s a glow in them. You look like a woman who didn’t just talk with her best friend all night.” I forced a laugh, brushing my long dark hair behind my ear. “It’s early, Marco. I’m tired. Sofia and I drank a little wine. That’s all. You know how she gets when we start talking about boys and the future.”

“Excuse me?” “You’re a beautiful woman.” He repeated a bit louder for me to hear without drawing attention. I looked at him and thought, ‘I’m old enough to be your Mother!’ But then I heard Sharon’s voice in my head saying, ‘But you’re not. He’s a grown man.’ “Thank you. You’re handsome yourself.” I smiled. “Very easy on the eyes.” He blushed and walked over to me. “Jacob Bradley.” He said, extending his hand. “Olivia Freemont.” I took his hand; he leaned down, still gazing in my eyes and kissed the back of my hand, spewing such confidence which made me so flushed, I immediately had to look away.