Tante Manis Novels & Stories

Caterina felt short of breath in front of that beautiful man, however, he did not seem, nor would he ever seem, the kind of man she would date, let alone say his last name. “That’s right, excuse me, but I don't know him, I don't usually give my full name to strangers” answered the beautiful brunette. A mischievous smile was drawn on the lips of that intimidating man. “I like you Caterina, and you see, I always get what I want, my name is Hades, Hades Visconti, and you will give me everything I want from you, including your last name” said the intimidating man arrogantly. Caterina did not look away from the man, what had she gotten herself into? The man in the bar

I know because Chiara longed to be one of those women. The woman examined me up and down in a very condescending way, "And you are?" she asked. Not knowing what to say, I said, "I'm Allegra." "The new maid?" I shook my head but before I could say anything, Glenna spoke up, "His wife! Look, Cindy, Mr. Mancini is now a married man so your services aren't needed anymore." Her mouth hung open, "You gotta be shitting me! Scott isn't married, he just did out of pity, and stop calling it services, I'm not a prostitute!"

“Fratello, do you know Miss Mancini?” “Who doesn’t?” he shot back, brimming with enthusiasm, as if it were obvious. “Antonella Mancini is, no exaggeration, every man’s dream in Savoca. That woman isn’t just beautiful—she looks like she stepped out of a Renaissance painting. If there were a ranking of the world’s wonders, her face would top the list.” “That’s such an exaggeration!” Vittoria snapped, her frustration slipping through her tone, as her insecurity grew quietly within.

Isla The second I opened that encrypted file, my screen exploded with intel. Names, dates, locations - but not a single damn photo. Just one name staring back at me like a death warrant: Don Salvatore Mancini. AKA "Il Serpente." The fucking Snake. I leaned in closer. No pictures. Ever. The guy was a ghost. Every photographer who tried ended up missing. Cameras malfunctioned around him. Zero digital footprint. The man didn't exist - except he very much did.

why is she overreacting as if I just involved myself in an argument with a celebrity. I shook my head and ignoring her intense gazes starting to bake the cookie dough. " he is Mr Emir Blackiston, the famous savoury chef of the country and one of the owner of Yellow chillies" As soon as she said it, I froze in my position, I turned to meet her piercing gaze.. ok that's why she was pressing my hands to stop.. damn. Shanaya what did you do. "what... are you saying Manushi?? " I stammered at my own voice.

Vihaan wiped his face and smiled, " No need to sorry It was my mistake. But why you all just worried for Rishabh uncle, not for Mansi aunty. And I am confused and also curious for Mansi aunty and Apurva Uncle and Tia Ahuja and your Dedda ' s story. Once I heard Mansi aunty was saying Apurva Uncle is still her husband, How's this possible? And she also said officially he is a dead man. What happened in their past. AND THIS TIA AHUJA WHY SHE CHASED MANSI AUNTY LOVER EVERYTIME. THEY BOTH LADIES HAD ANY CONFLICTS IN PAST." Enemy and girls looked at each other and exchanged a meaningful nod.

He looks up to see an innocent-looking handsome young man standing in front of him. “Are you perhaps Tanvi Elsher? Athanasia told me about you” The man spoke as he smiles. Athy’s full name is Athanasia Damaris, although she prefers someone calling her Athy. “Yes sir” Tanya politely replies to the man. “Come here” The man spoke as he waves his hand, telling Tanya to come over and sit on his chair. Tanya walks forward and sat on the chair, waiting for the man to speak. ---

It was amazing that Ray had been able to resist this curse- at least that was what it looked like. “Hello there Mane. I am Ananse.” The woman smiled slightly and introduced herself. She seemed unbothered by the slightly blushing Mane. She ignored his discomfort and stretched out her hand in greeting. Mane was startled by her voice. Lost in his thoughts, he had forgotten where he was. He hurriedly extended his own hand and held hers. Since he was still young, Mane’s hand was smaller than hers. But it wasn’t by much. After all, because of his training he had grown a bit bigger over the last few weeks. Mane marveled at how soft her palm was and reluctantly let her go, knowing that it was rude t

He smiles. Greco Mancini is a sixty-five years old Sicilian Patrician of Sicily, Italy; word has it that he doesn't only handle clean money but also dirty money. He's a scary man, but right here and now, the dangerous man looks clean and excited about his son's arrival after five years.