Salvatore Books Novels & Stories

Alpha Matthew explained. " I don't care what she did or what you know or didn't. The fact is, she's dead now. What would it make of me if I didn't avenge my only sister." He said. He definitely didn't care about his sister. He just wanted to see Alpha Matthew squirming. And he's only doing it for his own satisfaction and to still keep his reputation intact. "Please Mr Western. You have to understand. It was just a mere mistake." Mrs Sky pleaded the stubborn Mr Western.

Now it was just predictable. "I did." His tone was measured. Too calm. That meant trouble. I leaned forward, twirling in the chair just enough to annoy him. "Well here I am. Ready to be scolded, lectured, possibly locked up—what's today's flavour?" He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he placed the book carefully on the edge of the windowsill and crossed his arms. "How are you finding your return?" "It's cute you think I'm staying." I raised a brow.

My hands started to shake and when I flipped the next picture, I was met with horror. There a picture of Xavier as he was, as an adult with his full name but it wasn’t Xavier that was written there. SALVADOR MICHEAL, SON OF ALPHA MICHEAL OF THE SILVERMOON PACK There was no way. Right? Salvador died years ago. I saw him fall. There was no way Xavier was him. if not why did he have to lie about his name? I stood there, the papers falling from my hand. I was confused, horrified that not only could he have lied to me, he deliberately made me suffer. But that would make sense right?

“Why should I believe you’ll keep your word?” I took a slow breath. Then I reached into my coat and tossed a small black notebook onto the table. Salvatore didn’t touch it immediately. He looked at it like it might bite. “What is this?” “Names,” I said. “Contacts. My offshore shell companies. Every laundering route I own.” The sons exchanged shocked glances. Salvatore’s gaze sharpened. “That’s a death sentence for you if I betray you.” “Yes.” The old man studied me. The firelight threw shadows over his craggy face. He looked like the devil himself, pondering whether to take a soul.

I closed the door quietly behind me and didn’t hesitate. My hands were already pulling open drawers. I knew this desk. I grew up next to it. I knew where Salvatore hid things he didn’t want anyone touching, the false bottom in the left drawer, the flash drive taped under the top, the old notebook shoved behind useless ledgers. That was what I needed. I found it wedged in the back, my fingers trembled as I pulled it out. The old contacts book. The one he didn’t trust anyone else with. No digital trail, no calls he couldn’t deny, just ink.

“This particular one was transcribed by my great-grandmother, the previous one was falling apart, too old you could barely see the words.” “Oh?” I flip a few more pages. I noticed some lines were written with quotation marks, with names written under those in particular. I read Silvia Maria Salvatore, another one says Isodora Grace Salvatore but I can’t read what else they have written down, just the names, of Salvatore women. How strange, Good strange, what have they written? pasts recepies? I doubt it, that's what a recipe book is for, this is a rule book so I assume it could be something they learned in their youth. “Does every Salvatore woman get to write something?” I ask once more, Now

He executed an elaborate bow in my direction. "Forgive me, bella signora. I am Ruggero Vitale, purveyor of specialized merchandise and collector of beautiful things." He straightened with obvious reluctance. "Salvatore has mentioned you precisely zero times, which tells me you are either very important or very dangerous." "Both, probably," I said. Ruggero laughed. "Intelligent and honest. I like her already." Salvatore moved to the window, checking the street below with practiced caution. "Do you have what we discussed?"

I ran to the nightstand like an excited little girl who's crush texted her for the first time and opened my messages. You've used 80% of your data I sighed disappointedly. All of a sudden I received another message, a smile finding itself on my face as I opened it up The Domino's 50% off pizza deal! Spend $30 or more and get 50% off! Just use code SAVEBIG2. I was so naive, why did I think he would text me anyway. I jumped on the bed into a lying position, frustratedly. I frowned when I heard screeching from below. I quickly jumped off and checked to see if Estella was okay. I totally forgot she was there. I looked underneath and found her giggling quietly.

The floor was sparkly and the books were neatly arranged, but I could feel the dust beneath the shelf as I ran my right hand on the smooth wood. Twice in a day. Same straightforward question, the same tight-lipped response. Like Camille, had something sinister happened to the rest of the family? Was Salvatore… dead?. Why won't anyone tell me anything? What was the family hiding?! I swept through the books, not the new ones, but the old ones kept away on a special-looking shelf. Most of them were about the Axtons, history, journals, and keep stakes from their previous lives in the mafia world. I read a few pages from one of the books and my wonderment went up a notch.

The bookstore sat jammed between two alleys, easy to miss. Perfect. I pushed inside. Salvatore was crouched behind a shelf, sorting books. He froze, eyes sharp—then saw me and eased up. He flicked a look at the door. "Corleone got eyes on the alley?" "Yeah. We're clean." I ran my fingers over dusty detective novels. Carlo loved this place. He'd come in for one book and stay an hour. Salvatore used to joke, "Don could stretch buying a book into half a day of auditing."