Pietro My Brilliant Friend Novels & Stories

I look up to the man who has been my provider in the past and always has something good for me when I'm in this part of the world. "Good to see you," I said. - Of course, it's good to see you too. I'm going to get a little richer today – he smiled as he reached the bottom step. I approach and we greet each other with a wave of the hand. - Depends on what you have for me. Pietro is a mouse. He can get any weapon at any time. Its price is not the best, but the truth is that no one can legally get what it has in stock.

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?”

Phoebe left her hand and Nandini scurried away. Chiara’s friend asked, “ Chiara, this is so surprising. She hunted your Husband. Beware she is beautiful and best friend of your husband. There is something between them” Chiara laughed and uttered “I am Chiara D’Alberto, never forget that” she throw her glass of vodka on her friend’s face “Bitch!” Her friend muttered.

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.”

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.

My vision blurred, the edges of the room turning a fuzzy, bruised purple. "Hey! Let him go!" The front door didn't just open; it exploded inward. The pressure on my throat vanished. I slumped to the floor, gasping, my hands flying to my neck. Through the tears stinging my eyes, I saw him. Ignatius. He didn't look like a savior. He looked like an omen. His tailored black overcoat caught the hallway light, casting a long, sharp shadow that cut across the wreckage of my home. He was Leo’s best friend, the man my brother spoke of with a mix of awe and fear.