Stefan Salvatore Ripper Novels & Stories

She was still looking at the glowing monitor and replaying and watching over and over again the same videos that she must've already seen hundreds of times. "Jean, where's Stefan? Didn't he go with you? We have to quickly arrest him?" Said Mr. Gray as he began looking for his handcuffs and revolver. "He already went there," Jean responded. "After we looked at the report at the forensic lab, he quickly went to catch Dr. Killer before he ran away."

“Routine is predictable.” “So the killer knew it,” Quinn said. “Or studied it,” Damian added, quieter now. Quinn kept reading. “Financials?” “Messy,” Mark replied. “Offshore accounts.” “Not random,” Damian muttered. Quinn closed the file halfway. “No forced entry. No theft. This wasn’t about money.” “They came for him,” Damian said. Quinn looked at him. This time, she didn’t disagree. Mark placed another file beside it. “Two more cases. Same pattern.”

“Let’s call the police.” “Can you two calm down,” Gianluca growls. I approach the room next to mine, and the scene makes my eyes widen. Salvatore only wears a towel around his waist, and his hair is damp, meaning he just got out of the shower. You don't have to be a genius to know what the issue is. They have seen the marks on Salvatore's neck. Now everyone knows that his ruthless wife tried to kill him. I can’t help a smile pulling at my lips. Damn it! Is it wrong to feel proud of that fact?

The muffled sound that left Salvatore was raw, broken, and desperate, his body was jerking against the restraints. Rico released it after a few seconds, stepping back like nothing had happened. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he said. Salvatore coughed, his head dropping forward again, his breath was uneven. “Go… to hell…” he managed again, weaker this time. Rico stared silently at him. Then he reached for another tool, taking Salvatore’s hand and placing the thumb clip over his finger. Salvatore’s body tensed immediately, his breathing picking up.

Salvatore spat out, Spade shrugged before he turned to look at Stefano, he nodded discreetly and the man already knew what he would do as he advanced towards Salvatore. He used the knife to rip open the man's shirt, leaving him hare from the waist up "You're a fucking piece of shit Stefano, you know that" Salvatore spat at the man in front of him, who didn't even react to what Salvatore had just said. Instead he took one of his knife, raising it up, he jammed it back down on the man's hand on the chair, causing him to scream out in agony, as Stefano started twisting it, causing the flesh to make squishy sounds.

“Well, it seems you want to die as much as she wanted ‘it’ from you.” Salvatore looked over at me and smirked. “Amici, prendete questo figlio di puttana e fatelo sembrare come se fosse stato derubato e lasciato morire per strada (Friends, take this son of a bitch and make it look like he was robbed and left to die in the street),” Salvatore grinned. “And take your time doing it. Lose of blood is a good thing.” Salvatore’s men picked up Franklin Duval and dragged him to the back of one of the black SUVs and threw him in. The vehicle left immediately.

It was purely ridiculous. Salvatore Rodriguez— works as a reporter at Big news Media, no wife, no child. Doesn't believe in relationships because his father was a deadbeat drunk who constantly abused his mother, dropped out of school early, but by some miracle still ended up going to college, and finishing top of his class. Have had numerous cases of sexual assault from colleagues, but somehow someone has consistently been keeping you out of trouble.

I found that incredibly rude. "You...you know my name!" Her tone was filled with excitement. "Of course I do." I replied which made her smile. "You can call me Ana!" She said happily to which I nodded, "will do." "I am Austin Salvatore. But, you already know who I am, don't you?" Austin asked with a smirk. What's it with these Salvatores and smirking? No, seriously, was it a disease that ran in the family or something? "Yes, I do." I replied with a nod, "I've heard a lot of things about you, you know? The mafia's very own glutton. Are you familiar with the term?"

I leaned forward, despite myself fascinated by this glimpse into his world. "The plans were supposed to be scrapped. Target changed his security detail, made himself too difficult to reach cleanly. So we called it off, moved on to other business." Tony's hands clenched into fists. "Except Michael didn't scrap the plans. He stole them. Sold them to Salvatore Reyes." The name meant nothing to me, but from the way Tony said it, I could tell it should. "Who's Salvatore?" "Rival family. Old enemy. The kind of man who'd sell his own mother for the right price." Tony's laugh was bitter. "Salvatore took those plans and executed the assassination exactly as we'd designed it. Same method, same timelin

Salvatore's Pov Coming back to Chicago was blissful. This was my home, the real Salvatore's life. Getting back into what I had been doing previously before hearing about Luciano's death was my goal now. I had to put my life on a little pause to get revenge for Luciano's death and I was glad it was a successful mission. I might have lost the people that were truly close to me, but I was on the winning side. I killed some of Don's men and Don was dead also, by the way, his wife was with me and she would start her stripping classes.