Portal To Nova Roma Novels & Stories

Nalya "How disappointing," he said, almost turning to walk away. "Oh, can you point me to the head staff office?" I said. "It is on the left - you know what, you'll get lost. I'll take you there." "So you're the rogue who's been causing a buzz through the link since last night," he mused, looking at me. "I don't understand," "Forget it. I'm Roman, but you can call me Roma. What's your name?" he asked. I swallowed and answered.

That wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. I watched as my sister explained that the portal was going to open again in Rome soon, which was exciting to me since Ward had, obviously, figured that out on his own. But then, Holland also knew, which could be dangerous. And we needed to know how she’d found out so that I could see where she’d be headed next. Not that Holland herself was in Rome, but if her people were there, it would be a fight.

But the moon was bright, casting long, silver shadows across the water. Elias, the captain, pulled the boat into a small, vine-covered stone dock tucked behind a crumbling villa. "This is as far as the water takes us. From here, you’re on foot. Rome is a maze of tunnels and catacombs. If the Neutrality Pact finds you on the main roads, you're done." "Thank you, Elias," Maya said, stepping onto the mossy stone.

"Wait, what did you just say? Porta Nova? Who's going to Porta Nova?" Carlo asked. Giovanni explained patiently, "You didn't know? Anna's going to Porta Nova. If nothing goes wrong, this will likely be the final time we drink in Astonia. After this, it will be hard to see each other again." Giovanni didn't know about my relationship with Carlo, so he wasn't surprised by Carlo's reaction. Carlo's eyes welled up with tears. Without thinking, he stood and pulled me into the hallway. I stood against the wall, silently meeting his gaze.

If anyone can help me reach Emma, it's her. I use my connections to find Natasha and arrange to meet her at her family's tavern, La Taverna d'Oro. The tavern is nestled in a quieter part of Rimini, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that makes you feel like you've stepped back in time. I arrive early, hoping to gather my thoughts, but the anxiety won't let me settle.

"I thought you would." She ended the call. She stood on the harbor road. The June heat was on her shoulders and the harbor was working around her and the Lucia was at berth nine and the phase two building had the Romano lettering above its entrance and everything was exactly as it should be. She called Giovanni Riva at noon. He answered on the fourth ring with the voice of a man who was outside when the phone rang and had come in specifically to answer it. "Signor Riva," she said. "My name is Valeria Romano."

Not to mention, there was some porno playing on the PC, which I smashed to pieces, feigning annoyance. It looked like it had been in use recently. There was some paperwork recording the raids and whatever money was gathered from the stores that were under the mafia's protection racket scheme. That's just sick... Well, there is nothing useful in here, but a picture is worth ten thousand words. There has to be some sort of switch or trigger to see something hidden beyond the wall or something. I looked around and spotted a wooden, well-polished cabinet with a portrait of a middle-aged couple flashing a cruel smile with a child in their midst.

“Yeah. Play the long game. Let everyone think you’re a ghost. And then... boom.” I smiled. That did sound brilliant. *** Later that day, Elijah knocked on my office door. “Quick thing,” he said, holding his tablet. “We just got a request from an Italian procurement firm. Exclusive distribution across a new line of boutique hotels.” “Which firm?” “Portale Group.” I pursed my lips. “I don’t know them.” “Small, high-end. Based in Sicily but expanding into the mainland and islands.” “I’ll take the meeting,” I said.

"Found something. Russo's got another property. A villa. Lake Como. Remote, expensive, heavily secured." Livia leaned closer. "Where?" Carlo pulled up satellite images. High walls. Private dock. Guards visible. Her phone buzzed. Clara. Article's blowing up. Rossi's office called asking for sources. Be careful tomorrow. She typed back: Always am. But her hands shook. Outside, dawn broke over Milan. One more push. That's all they needed.

The sea outside the Romano estate was calm that morning, deceptively so. Bianca stood on the terrace, a silk robe brushing against her legs, the horizon washed in cold light. Below, the tide whispered secrets against the rocks. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe in peace. Then Lucia ran in. “Bianca ” she gasped, out of breath, clutching a tablet. “It’s Palermo Port. One of the shipping routes.” Bianca turned, instantly alert. “What happened?”