Speak Softly Godfather Novels & Stories

Disbelief. The God of crime was here. Jonas’ lips move, but the blade speaks first. Past his throat. A swift slash that sends him reeling back. His words gurgles, throat sprouting. “Facile, Papà. Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t fight it.” Dakor fists Jonas’ hair, watching him convulse and fade. “You were the best fuck I’ve had and will ever have. It pains me to do this, but Familial comes first. I saluti del Padrino.” (Greetings from the Godfather.)

While civilian #3207 heard it from God, he wasn’t given details. Zen grinned and pointed to his ears. “The Godfather can listen to the voices of the dead because of “Blood”. However, Godfather candidates can usually listen to the inner voices of others. It’s an unawakened version of “Blood”. Although my ability is buggy and doesn’t work all the time, it’s still a sign that I’m one of the true Godfather candidates.” One of the true Godfather candidates? Ah, that must explain why God said that Zen was one of his golden children. Zen Taro wasn’t the only one competing. God must have planted several seeds for insurance.

I greeted with a wide smile, immediately throwing my body back onto my bed. "Hello, darling," I heard the thick British accent from my godfather say to me through the phone and a shiver ran through my entire body, "how's my little star doing?" he asked me and I bit the corners of my lips. I felt so shy as though I was beneath his intense gaze, "I'm doing ok, how about you?" I asked him. My godfather was Octavious Bradford, and he's probably the most good looking gentleman I've ever set my eyes on. It doesn't help that I have a bit of a crush on him and he continuously spoils me way more than he spoils my older sister.

Just watched me with those cold eyes. “Sit,” Sophia said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “We have so much to discuss.” “I saw what you did to your brother,” Giovanni said, his voice smooth and cultured. The Italian accent was barely there, refined by years of American education. “Very impressive. Very… hot.” Sophia laughed and licked her red lips slowly, deliberately. “Wasn’t it? I told you he hadn’t gone completely soft.” “Sophia,” I said, her name coming out flat. A warning.

He’d acted like we hadn’t had a pending argument or like I hadn’t gone to sleep angry because of him. “Tabby.” His baritone voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I raised my brows, confused. “Huh?” “Breakfast, come sit.” I walked further and sat on the stool while I watched him move with all precision. His body was built like he was a day older than twenty-seven, My eyes roamed around his body like I was in search of something, from his built chest to his abs and V of his pubic region. Jesus! Tabitha. This man is your goddamn Godfather. Whatever makes you see him in such a way? Maybe the fact that he was so fucking hot?

“You and I know whom I speak of.” “No, I don’t.” The Godfather rose from his seat with a swift move. “Don’t play smart with a man like me.” With a chuckle, I retorted. “Don’t be a rat.” “Ginevra!” “St.Louis!” I shot back, my eyes narrowed with venomous rage. “Watch yourself, St.Louis, you don’t want to know how I get when I’m pushed. Like I said, I apologize for my outburst.”

) The church's father asks after everyone is settled in their seats, I raise my hand. I notice the protesting facial expressions on everyone's face but no one speaks in fear of Salvatore including Senior Capo. "Vieni bambino" (Come child) father motions me to join up the podium. I walk up the step, I stop in front of Gio. He seems like he's sleeping, he looks so peaceful, my eyes well up. I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

“Those weren’t rumors. They are. My father is Manfred Russo, he’s the Godfather of Sicily and the whole of Italy. But when it comes right down to it, he runs most of the country, it’s just done behind the scenes. Governments and by extension law enforcement are very corrupt. He gives them a little on the side and they turn a blind eye. Ashton’s family is in Colombia, his padre is Salvatore Rossini.” “Cartel,” he said before I could say it myself. “I know the name, Salvatore Rossini. Ironically enough one of the papers I wrote as an undergrad was on the drug trade in South America. Salvatore Rossini was one of the people I highlighted in that paper. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connectio

He held one hand up stop sign style as if to prevent me from talking "Please spare me the story of your Italian mafia connected family. That's complete shite and you know it." "Fine." I sighed. "Just don't get pissed when I call in a favor and a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb and a man in a suit tells you to get in." "You watch too many movies." "This from an A-list actor and movie director?" His eyes narrowed. "They'll put you on ice." "The Godfather was on HBO last night again wasn't it?" "Hey Vin, we got a problem..." I said using my best Italian Mafioso voice, then rubbed my chin. "We go to the mattresses."

Draco hesitated. "The Highness " was what everyone called the Godfather. However, the next voice he heard from the other end wasn't Callum's as he expected. "I knew you would call, Don Draco" said the Godfather in a flat tone.