Salvatore Brothers Novels & Stories

Was my brother in love? THE END.

I say dryly, draping an arm over Ava’s shoulders as we walk toward the sitting room, “they would’ve sent somebody far more competent than the idiot I got.” Dad’s expression remains unreadable. “So what did he want?” “Revenge, apparently.” I shrug off my coat. “His last name matched one of the men I questioned years ago while hunting mom’s killer.” Nicole’s brows lift slightly. “Questioned?” A faint smile pulls at my mouth. “Interrogated.” Understanding settles across her face. “And the man?” she asks carefully. “The brother?” “Dead. They both are now.” A brief silence follows that. Dad falls into thought beside us, subtle tension settling into his expression. “You need to be more careful,” h

Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the cars came to a stop one after another. From where I stood, I could see Lorenzo outside already, waiting for them. His posture was calm, controlled, every inch the loyal son welcoming the head of the family home. The vehicle's first door opened. Salvatore stepped out after the driver opened his door. Age had not weakened him the way it did most older men. His silver hair was combed neatly back, his dark suit immaculate despite the long journey. His presence alone seemed to command the space around him. Behind him, another car door opened. Marcial De Luca. Lorenzo's younger brother looked almost identical to him, though the years had carved deeper shado

And if Elpidio does go through with his plans, then, would she have to choose between him and Armando? At the meeting room. The Salvadors were twin brothers who ran a construction company that was funded by Armando right when it was on the brink of bankruptcy. “ You can take a look at the documents once again to be sure the figures are correct,” Armando informed them as Williams placed the contract documents in front of them. “ That shouldn't be a problem, Master Armando. We completely have faith in you.” One of Salvador said as he picked up his pen and signed the contract before handing it over to his brother who also signed before handing the documents back to Williams.

But it was like they’d vanished off the face of the earth. No trace. No leads. “Maybe they left the country,” Lorenzo said, his voice full of despair. “Maybe they’re in Europe, or South America…” “No.” I stared out at the Chicago skyline. “They’re still here. I can feel it.” But a feeling wasn’t a lead. Our money was running out. The estate was sold. We moved into a small apartment. Lorenzo sold his last Rolex. I pawned the ring my father left me. The great Moretti brothers. Living worse than the people we used to rule.

Knox loomed over him, blade up, chest heaving, staring down three men wearing colors that I’d never seen. Not the greens and silvers of the neighboring pack, but something darker and wholly unknown, striped black and crimson like old and dried blood. Soren was pressed to a crumbling wall, his good arm holding the blade of a fourth opponent at bay from his throat. And Draven, bloody, chest heaving, stood between it all. Between his brothers and whatever the fuck was going on. "Calla, stay back," he started, and then his eyes found me fully and something in his face cracked with a relief so raw it looked like pain.

“Two hours, a two-hour call. I tried going this way and that way but he was not letting me get off that easily. He was fast, telling me why it was in my best interest to take his offer. With that boy’s mouth and the other’s fist, whuuuu, I see how they got where they are in a span of four years. The boys are dangerous. Salvatore is the arm and Elio is the fist. The arm can survive without the fist but cannot do much lifting. The fist can not survive without the arm but together, phuuu, unstoppable.”

The sick feeling in my gut prevailing…again. To find a reasonable person in the Mafia world was akin to searching for a pin in a mountain of hay. There is no chance. The rumors about Salvador were worse than that of Dante. Salvador killed his brother, Mateo in order to become the Don of the underworld. He was also rumoured to eat the flesh of his victims and rivals. Some said he was asexual with little to no dealings with women nor men others said he was gay. Why don't I meet normal people?

I wouldn’t mind taking Father’s gun and just shooting my face off. A few minutes later, Salvatore came back to the room. He looked pissed. I bet, no I KNOW he didn’t convince Father to do anything about the wedding. “What did you do?” He looked at his hands and suddenly he hugged me. “I’m sorry sis. I tried to convince Father but to him, this alliance needs to happen. I really tried my best.” I smiled at him. Even though he’s already a killer, he’s still my brother. My baby brother. “It’s okay Salva. I won’t try to fight. But do you know a way to contact the Bratva to let them know about my engagement party? Maybe they’ll want to shoot my head off. And then I’ll be free.” Salvatore’s face fi

“Matteo was my blood brother. We were glued together from the time we could walk. I followed him everywhere. He led, I followed, always. We caused trouble like it was a religion. And when we got here, adopted by Mama Sofia, we would steal olives from the grove, sneak wine from Bach’s cellar, and make prank calls to half the cousins on the estate’s phone line.” I could almost see them: two boys with dirty knees and wild grins, thinking they were kings of the world. “He had the kind of laugh that made other people laugh too, even if they didn’t know what was funny,” Salvatore continued. “He was brave, sometimes stupidly so. He would jump into fights just to stand up for someone smaller. But he