Santino Sonny Corleone Novels & Stories

My eyes widened in surprise. Elio Saconne was one of the brothers of Tom Saconne, the Don of the Saconne family. Marcelo had explained a little about the dynamics of the mafia families. Tom Saconne was the oldest of three brothers. After him were his two younger brothers, Elio and Felice Saconne. Despite how impulsive Tom appeared, it was a known fact that he doted on his brothers though I had doubts on whether he actually doted on them or if it was simply that he let them do whatever they wanted, precisely because he didn’t care about them.

Instead of going straight to the hospital room, Valentine gestured to Eugene, whom he had left alone until now. The waiting room's attention immediately focused on Eugene. To escape the oppressive stares, Eugene quickly moved to Valentine's side. Upon entering the hospital room, Don Luciano greeted them from his bed. Standing beside him was a familiar figure—Don Santino Colvino, boss of the Colvino Family and a longtime ally of the Luciano Family. Don Colvino embraced Valentine, then returned to Don Luciano's side and took his hand.

There was no way he was making the same mistake twice; he hadn’t even recovered from yesterday. "You don't know what this is?" Meyer asked, agitated. "Let me, Meyer," Florence said, taking the object. She sat on the sofa arm beside Zeno. "What he's trying to say is... we want you to kill Sebastian." She placed her hand on Zeno's thigh. Zeno's brain froze. Disbelief and shock were written all over his face. He could understand Meyer, but his own cousin? The mafia world was a crazy place. He was concerned for himself—these people were planning to turn him into a murderer! A few weeks ago, he was just a guy looking for a way to pay his Nana’s medical bills. Now, he was being hired as an assassi

Dante said calmly “I believe that we have organized it well enough for you to be satisfied alongside the other partners, shareholders, and ‘friends’. Don’t worry, we won’t have a sniper pointed at you, by the way” Giovanni clenched his fist, but said nothing as he took a step back, followed by another man, and judging by Leo and Aunt Gabriella’s glares, I could tell that it was Mattia. The men walked toward a table, and nodding at the bartender, the man brought them two glasses.

Piper. I gape at him, caught off guard by the arrogance lacing his words. “No,” I snap, recovering. “The CEO got me this dress. Who the hell is Santa anyway? I’ve never heard of such a name.” His grin falters just a little, but he quickly recovers, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Santa,” he repeats, his tone dripping with mockery, “is an Alpha who can grant your every wish. But I suppose if you’d rather believe it was the CEO…”

I shifted slightly in my seat and nodded, then felt foolish since he was focused on the road rather than me. "I adore Italian cuisine. It’s a personal favorite." I noticed something burning within the dark depths of his eyes, despite their steely appearance. The silence fell again as he stared forward. “Sylvio.” He whispered my last name. “Portuguese?” I was surprised he had guessed correctly. Or had he? I had no doubt he had looked me up if he was a professional criminal—or in the mafia. “Yes.” I ran my hands up and down my thighs, smoothing them.

"Always plant an ear in your own territory. That was your first lesson to me." I waved. Two men carried in a steel briefcase. Inside were yellowed original ledgers. "That missing shipment from five years ago," I said, tossing a ledger onto the table, "You sold it to a fed. And I used myself as bait to stop the deal. As for colluding with Corleone…" I smiled and looked toward the door. It burst open. Chris walked in with eight gunmen. Each of them carried a wooden case. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. I'm Chris Corleone. As of today, I'm the co-holder of all of Falcone's properties."

Ace De Santis "So you're telling me that someone has all the evidence necessary to send me to jail for the rest of my life?" I clenched my jaw, barely controlling my anger as I glared at the man. "Not just you, boss. Another Mafia family as well," He replied, sweat forming on his forehead. Knowing he was afraid brought me satisfaction. It called my anger, a little bit. "Their name?" "Hale, sir." That was interesting revelation indeed.

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

The damn thing felt like the whole universe on my right pinky. Heavy and powerful. “Then rise, Renato Marino,” the Godfather said, his voice a growl of authority. “Don of New York.” I stood. The lion ring gleamed under the firelight. One by one, the others followed protocol. Tommaso first, fists clenched, jaw locked. He dropped to one knee. “Don Marino,” he said bitterly. I could see the rage in his eyes and the anger in his tone. But it didn't matter. It never mattered.