Santino Sonny Corleone Novels & Stories

One who was not strong enough could not stand in there firmly, let alone, speak. "Where is Padrino?" Donovan, the oldest man in the room growled. He had a deadly scar running underneath his eyes and down the side of his face. "We requested a meeting with him, not you, stupid son of a whøre!" [Padrino; Godfather in Spanish] "Where is your boss?" Another asked, his Russian accent thick and hard. "Sergio De Niro?" "Relax...!" Alfonso tried to speak but paused when one of the men drew out a gun and pointed at his forehead.

I looked up at Leo, tears spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks. I clutched at his arm, my voice barely a whisper: “Leo… the baby… please save our baby…” A flicker of unnameable panic shot through Vincent at the sight. But when his eyes landed on Don Thaddeus Sorrentino, his grandfather, the Don of the Sorrentino family, he immediately steeled himself again. He was the only male grandson of the Sorrentino line, the boy the Don had raised and groomed as the family heir his whole life. The old man would never let anything happen to him.

She was definitely crying when she called. “Don’t drive again when you’re upset.” I hugged her. “It’s gonna be okay, Pip.” “I can’t believe it. Dinner was fine, and then just like that. It’s fucked up. Apparently, Dad knew a lot about Siciliano.” “It’s public knowledge, Piper,” Spade said behind me, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. “Sicilianos are famous everywhere, but the face of the mafia is the old don, Gaetano Siciliano. Terzo is free to go anywhere because of his connection with the Agency. They cleared his name and images on the internet.”

Declan turned, and in front of Santino, he gently took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "You're a sad man, Santino. You think everything in this world has a price?" "I have no interest in your dirty money. Who would want to partner with a degenerate who can't tell right from wrong and would harm his own son?" Santino staggered back a few steps, his eyes fixed on our clasped hands. Jealousy and madness ignited in his gaze. "So what!" He lunged forward, his wild eyes fixed on me. "Erin, you tell him!" he snarled, his wild eyes fixed on me. "We're the real family! Luca is my son—my blood! Who the hell is he?"

I asked and saw him with his head bowed, he nodded. “Who dares?” I asked again as I dropped my legs from the table before me. Matteo remained mute. Is this guy testing my patience? I pulled out my gun from my belt, and pointed it at him. “I'll blow your fucking brain off!” “Don… don…” he stuttered, “Who the hell seized Don Salvatore's Shipment here in Sicily?!?” I yelled and saw him fall to his knees, “We don't know, Don, but my men—” I didn't wait for him to complete his damn statement before pulling the trigger.

Now, that sweetness belonged to someone else. I pushed the thought away, burying myself in the winery project paperwork. I’d pulled all-nighters for weeks to get this deal over the line, and of course, I was working late again that night. It was pitch black outside by the time I finally looked up. Zane was standing in the doorway. “Seraphina? You’re still working?” I looked up, my voice cold and distant. “Is there something you need, Don Corleone?” He seemed thrown by the formality, but after a brief pause, he walked in.

I walked with them to the orphanage. “Isn’t this too much?” Angelo asked while tailing me. “It’s just breaking my heart. I want to do this. It’s my willingness,” I told him. After sending the kids to the orphanage, I noticed how Angelo throw weird glances at me. I’m empty handed now but it’s fine. I will just buy the other day. “You are very different,” he suddenly let out a sentence. “Different?” “The Selena I know is not like you,” he said still glancing at me. I can see it through my peripheral view. “I was testing you a while ago but I didn’t change your mind.”

Matter of fact, neither does my father. The first most well known family is the De Santis. Most people don't know it but they're also in the mafia. And of course, they're first. Their leader, Ace De Santis is 22 and rumors has it, he is fucking awesome at his job. People are scared of him. I, however, most people think im a damn myth. Not that i care, people believe what they want. The leader of the Italian mafia is Ace while my father is the leader of the American mafia. We are allies... Sort of. "ALEXIA SKYLAR HALE. FOCUS.", My father yelled through the ear piece

I continued, “I’ll tell you how. Your son exists because Marco Costello raped you. And when your father, Santino Bruno, found out, he didn’t take it well. He retaliated against Marco in the only way he knew how—by going after his family and shooting up their whole family at the wedding and killing Amy Sterling—the daughter of Senator Sterling.” I slid another photo across the table. It showed Santino walking into a hotel lobby, a woman cradled in his arms like a doll. “Claire Capone. Formerly known as Claire Parker, worked for the Costello family. Your father took her as collateral, didn’t he? Tried to send a message.” Lilianna’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

"What makes you think you're all better than we are? Don't let me transfer my anger on to you, you will hate me." He laughs a dry laugh. "What makes you think I don't hate you already? You two... What makes you think I still stand here as your brother?" "Oh, so you're saying you're not our brother? Then the lawyer can read the will." Lucas sniffles coldly. "As long as I wasn't disowned when they were alive, I remain Lucas Santinello, my last name is Santinello and as long as I am not here to listen, their will will not be read."