Ronaldo And Marcelo Novels & Stories

Because almost every fucking thing had gone sideways. "Rafael," Marcel repeated, clearing his throat once. Lucian said nothing. He turned the glass once between his fingers. The last time they saw each other, Rafael was the topic. They were supposed to be back at this table celebrating his death, but instead they had all been caught up in his mess. "My northern route has been dead for six weeks." Marcel's voice cut through the silence. His voice was calm, but yet something moved underneath it, like his anger was a ticking time bomb.

Marcel had planned this from the start. “Rinaldi is a simple man that shouldn’t be provoked.” He went on. “Give him back the girl, and we can all avoid a very unnecessary war.” The smirk full on spread before I could hold back. They were about fifteen men in total, armed with rifles and aiming at both me and Cassian. In summary, we were surrounded. “Cassian,” He hadn’t moved his rifle from Marcel for even a second. “Don.” “The next time Marcel speaks, kill him.”

“It seems the Russo family not only sucks at business, but they also have no manners. Disrespecting my fiancée? Who gave you the balls?” A bodyguard threw Nico aside like a piece of trash. Marcello wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. “Get lost.” Leo and Nico scrambled away like beaten dogs. Meanwhile, in Colombia, Raphael stared at the live broadcast on TV. On the screen, Cecilia was nestled against Marcello, and Marcello Falcone was holding his woman with an unmistakable look of possession. CRASH! He smashed his crystal glass against the wall. “No… it can’t be real…” he muttered, but the look in Cecilia’s eyes told him it was. This was no act.

Mr Valentino whom they were here to meet sat on a sofa with a glass of expensive wine in his hands, he got up his seat when he sighted them, welcoming them with an handshake. He was in his fourties with brown hairs slicked to the back. He had a grey suit on. One man who'd looked like his excort stood behind him clad in black from head to toe. "Benvenuti, signori. Andiamo al sodo." Marcellus spoke when they all sat down. "Signor Marcel, non ci vediamo da molto tempo. Sono arrivato dopo aver ricevuto la tua proposta dalla signorina Shannon." He replied politely.

His left eye supposed to be there but Vincenzo is the reason he has only one eye "You will pay for this brother", Marcelo swore

Just when I thought he might ignore me entirely, Marcelo turned, flashing that infuriatingly cocky smile that never seemed to die. Typical Marcelo Marino. “It is alright, Zio,” he said with a smirk. His gaze flicked to Jayce for a brief second before coming back to me. “I hope he is okay now.” “He is,” I said with a sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Shit. I need to know what drug he was shot with. It did not seem like anything you can find on the market.” “It is R3D,” Marcelo replied.

I'll wait for you to return," Esmeralda said to her husband because she couldn't stop him, especially since Carlos had given him the order. Ronaldo simply smiled at her and left the room. "Ronaldo! Do you have any idea where we're going? " Raul asked, a smirk on his face. One of Carlos's men. "Where?" he asked. He thought they were going to do a transaction, but they had no idea the calvary of his life was about to begin. The 26th of August, 2002 5:30 p.m. He was still confused as they walked down the road as to why his companions seemed so pleased with their work.

Before Abree could open her mouth the door opened and Raphaël stepped in, wearing his one colour piece suit and his hair slicked back with gel then another man walked in. Marcello. His hair was longer than before as he styled it in a man bun. He wore a plain black long sleeved shirt and jeans. My attention immediately dropped to his hand. His left hand was replaced with a prosthetic one and he covered it with a glove. I lift my gaze and we lock eyes. "Marcello!" Abree yelled jumping from her seat and running towards him then threw herself onto him. Marcello froze then relaxed as he wrapped his arm around her and smiled.

came a clear voice on the line. With the phone pulled away from James's ear, I could hear clearly. It was Ronaldo. "Ronaldo," James barked into the phone. "What have you done?" "What needed doing. Too bad you're home now. I was going to send some guys to La Loggia, but I didn't want to split my resources. I'll get to you soon enough," Ronaldo said. "Ronaldo, what did you DO?!" James demanded again. Ronaldo snorted. "The old king is dead. Long live the new king."

And then— BANG. Marcello screamed. His body jerked violently as a bullet tore through his leg, blood immediately pooling onto the floor beneath him. He collapsed forward, gasping, hands clamping down on the wound as agony twisted his features. The shot hadn’t come from Adriano. It came from one of the older Dons, Don Riccardo, a man who had been ruling before Adriano was even born. He lowered the gun, face impassive as he watched Marcello writhe in pain.