Novel & Cerita Ten Years For His Sicilian Lie

"We're only thinking about Abend Group's future. Daisy really likes your bedroom, so why don't you let her have it? Once she gives birth, she'll return it to you. "I gave you the title of my wife, so I need to compensate Daisy in other ways. I promised her I'd repay her ten times over," Edward continued, trying to persuade me, but I couldn't listen any longer. His words made me nauseous. "Edward, how did we end up like this? There was a time when we truly loved each other. We vowed to love only one another for a lifetime in that chapel." He hadn't expected me to say that. He was stunned, as if recalling the happy moments we had once shared.

"He turned it on Sophia. Accused her of entrapping a married man, using her family's influence to force him into a sham union." He leaned forward, his eyes serious. "I checked the timeline, Elena. Her first husband really did die taking a bullet for Dario seven years ago. But Sophia and Dario? They were screwing long before the funeral. Probably seven years ago, too." "The whole thing... it’s dirty business." "When Dario got sent to the border initially, it wasn't a promotion. It was punishment. He broke the rules, and the Family threw him away." "Maybe," Luca softened his voice, "he finally realized that in this life of snakes, you were the only one who was real."

Time to end this. “I know who you are to her, Anthony Siciliano of Cleveland, Ohio.” I spat. The look on his face was priceless. He knew he was a dead man walking. “That means nothing!” He stood up, reaching in his coat. Too bad for him, I was faster. I pulled my gun from under the files and pointed it at his head. “You said you were always loyal. You were. Until she came. You knew her and lied to my face the whole.” I was seething with anger. He went to open his mouth to say something, only to have a bullet between his eyes.

I stared at the unsteady fire and replied calmly, “If he doesn’t come back, then I’ll keep waiting. He promised he would spend my birthday with me every year. I’m going to wait for him.” I refused to believe he would forget my birthday. Mark Carillo was the youngest Mafia Don in Sicily. When he gave his word, he kept it. He had never broken a promise. He had taken a family that was on the brink of collapse and turned it into a force that now controlled half the Mediterranean underground scene, all because he always honored his word. By three in the morning, the manor was still silent. He wasn’t coming back, and everyone understood that. The living room was filled with bodyguards in tailored

“You’re sweating because there’s more.” His breathing hitched. “I... Don—” I picked up a small blade from the table. Not large or dramatic. Precise. I turned it slowly between my fingers. “You’ve served this famiglia for fourteen years,” I continued. “You’ve never made a mistake like this.” Silence. “Which means this wasn’t a mistake.” “No!” he said quickly. “No, Don, I swear.....” The blade stopped turning. “So it was intentional.” “No...!” he shouted.

His annoyed expression and angry tone made Rachel flinch and she moved back. "Sorry…. Maybe I am overthinking." Rachel apologized for doubting her 'loyal' boyfriend. Turning his back from her he continued, "I and my team have been after Vincenzo Siemens for two years. Every time we fail by an inch. Somehow that bloody arrogant mafia wins. I want him to be behind the bars and this has become my craze. I don’t care about my life anymore.” Hearing the last sentence, Rachel hugged Andrew from the back. “Your life matters to me. A lot.”

Sicily. 15 Years Ago. He was fifteen when he first killed a man. The knife wasn’t sharp. The blood came slower than he expected. But it changed everything. They called him il bastardo behind closed doors — the bastard son of Carlo Moretti, born to a mistress with no name and no power. Luca didn’t speak unless spoken to. He cleaned up after the soldiers. Picked glass out of ashtrays. Hid bruises beneath black sleeves. The Moretti estate was a kingdom, but he was nothing more than a stray dog scratching at the gates.

“They’ll want blood, not answers.” Valerio’s voice cut through the haze. “They’ll get ashes. Nothing more.” Lucien folded his arms. “Sera killed him. That puts her in the crosshairs.” Valerio’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll gut the first man who dares raise a hand against her.” The Sicilian emissary—a lean man named Franco with icy blue eyes—chuckled. “You may have to. There’s already whispers that she’s not just your queen… but your blade.”

Sicily "Oh, thank you so much, Sicily. This is just beautiful." The older woman in front of Sicily had tears in her eyes. "This is for mine and Thomas' fortieth anniversary." "I know. I got to put the 'happy 40th anniversary' on the front. I assumed it was for you. I'm excited for you." Sicily reached out and touched the woman's shoulder. "Forty years is something to be incredibly proud of."

Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled.