Stefan Salvatore Novels & Stories

None of his two colleagues were doing great either. " I agreed with the idea of introducing another monster " Santana said gently. His grey hair was neatly combed and his suit were pressed and neat but that doesn't makes him less sad and downcast. " Who is this man you have arranged to go after Konstantin Dmitri? " For some seconds Mattia didn't speak as he took his time to reply. " Maximo Santino " Stunned totally by Mattia's response, Santana and Carlos shared a horrified glance. " You are kidding, why would you call in a Mafia Boss into this? " Carlos asked shakily but he didn't wait for Mattia to reply before he continues " Maximo Santino is a wanted criminal in every countries. You can'

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

I asked, staring into his eyes, hoping he wasn’t about to say something, saddening. “Melissa, the world would be wiped out, if there is no one to try to save them. The human world, doesn’t have a lot of supernatural people, here, because we do not allow such things to happen, so I have to go out there, to take people out of danger.” “But what if you get crushed, while trying to save them? Are you going to leave me, clueless, and in sadness?” I cried out. Stefan stared at both Layla, and the man, like he meant I was attracting attention, when I shouldn’t.

“But it seems to me that she is carrying an Alpha blood.” “You…” “Alpha Dante D’Angelo, my mate, Valerie Morozov.” He said, looking down at me. “Put the knife down, Valerie. You are going to end up hurting more than just yourself with these stupid reflexes that you’re having…”

He looked like he was in his mid thirties and has a warm smile on his face. "Uhm, who are you?" I asked, confused. "My name is Luca, and I'm the driver and the security for Mr. Salvatore. I will be your personal driver from now henceforth." He introduced himself. "Oh, okay." I smiled at him. "But, I have a driver's license, I don't mind driving myself." "Mr. Salvatore is a very specific man, he likes his orders to be followed." I suppressed a frown and was so close to throwing a tantrum, but I knew the poor guy was only doing his job and I wouldn't want him to get fired because of my stubbornness. I could play along for now, until I had a talk with the asshole.

Not until I have answers. “Mr. Moretti,” I start, hesitating for a fraction of a second before continuing. “I don’t understand. Ghost used to talk about you before we knew who we really were to each other. He made you sound like a monster—cold, unforgiving, constantly reminding him of every mistake. But now you’re just… accepting this? Accepting him being gay?” Salvatore smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Prince, call me Salvatore, seriously.” His tone is soft, patient. The complete opposite of what I expected.

He stepped out, unfolding from the car like a predator climbing out of a cage, and his men pulled back without a word. He walked toward me, hands loose at his sides, but every step carried weight. Up close, he was bigger than I’d clocked before. His shoulders filled out a black shirt that hugged his biceps and arms tight. “I’m Salvatore,” he said, his voice low, smooth, like he was offering me something I didn’t ask for. I crossed my arms. “Didn’t ask for your fucking name.”

Matteo Salvatore The warehouse looked dead from the outside. But hell was boiling inside. We entered in formation, silent. Me, Paolo, and three trusted men. All in the dark, breathing like predators. And he was there. Sitting on a steel chair, black shirt, cigarette in hand. Viktor Orlov. Or rather... Viktor Romano. My footsteps echoed on the concrete. He looked up, smiled like he’d been expecting me. “Salvatore,” he sneered. “I thought you were smarter.”

But what he didn't know was that, the body Salvador's men buried was Stefano's body. After he escaped that morning, Salvatore's second most trusted bodyguard realized his capo was still alive. Antonio's bullet had torn his face badly, but he still had life in him. So he quickly sent for a chopper. He and two other men carried him into the chopper and flew him out of Vegas. Because of the damage, Salvatore had to undergo several surgeries to fix his face. He survived all surgeries, but his face was permanently damaged. He had lost everything to his son, and when he gained consciousness, fury burned through him.

“And let’s not forget, he’s the one who turned Zack into a human punching bag, not Elijah.” Zoe opens her mouth to retort, but before she can get a word out, a familiar middle-aged man in a crisp hotel uniform approaches our table. His nametag reads Daniel, and his polite smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Excuse me, are you Miss Zoe?” he asks, his gaze flickering between us. Zoe freezes for half a second, then points at me. “Nope, that’s her." “Seriously?” I roll my eyes at her and glance back at Daniel. “What’s the problem?”