The Don Italian Novels & Stories

He hung up without another word, dismissing the weight of an international offer like it was nothing. His arms circled my waist before I could move further, pulling me back against the iron wall of his chest. His lips brushed the curve of my neck, voice low and dangerous. “Seems like Italy is about to become the axis the world spins on.” I tilted my head, smiling faintly at our reflection in the mirror. “That’s why you need to tighten your grip, amore. Every Don, every boss, every stray soldier, they move only when you allow it. Italy must bend to you, not the other way around.”

Pocketing the box, I grimace at the Densel's. "Congratulations, Costa." Deric Densel, or Don Densel as most know him, speaks with a heavy-set northern English twang. He is Italian by blood, but he isn't Italian by nature. For years, they diluted themselves with the likes of English women. I don't think they could even string an Italian sentence together. "Thank you, Don Densel," I manage to sound sincere.

Breakfast was filled with Vincenzo staring at me and me blushing every time I looked up at him. I also found out the reason the Italian Don is here. Apparently, the Russians have been stealing shipments from then. The Russians have always wanted power and money, so them stealing million dollor shipments would get them what they want. They start off stealing and then excalates to war, and that's why the Italians are here because they want to war. -----

] Looking around him and no one moved for a few minutes until and elderly voice said quietly but with dignity, ‘Sì, posso’ [Yes I can] Don Luciano, the eldest of the Dons who had sided with the beautiful young woman from the very first day he had met her, pushed himself to his feet. He was in his seventies, incredibly old for a Don, very few lived to retirement age, and he was the most respected of all of them now many of them looked at him in horror, ‘Lo sapevi?’ [You knew?] The mutters went around the room, ‘Sì, lo sapevo’ [Yes I knew]

Tonight, I was more than just a businessman- I was the heir to a legacy that spanned generations, a legacy built on power, loyalty and blood. *ahem* Don Leonardo cleared his throat as he put out his cigar on the ashtray. He was a plump old man with wrinkles lying his features, clad in expensive Italian linen and rings adorning his fingers, a dictionary definition of what a syndicate Don would look like. Sharp hazel brown eyes glanced over the people present, before landing on me. “Damien…” his gravelly voice drawled over my name. taking his time to adjust. Before I had been summoned, a message had already been sent to the Don about the little…issue with the Montelli’s and Rico.

The sound cracked like a gunshot. "E chi è questo cane americano?" Don Viti barked in rapid, harsh Sicilian. "Un teppista arricchito che puzza di sangue a buon mercato. Non sei degno di stare vicino a mia nipote." And who is this American dog? A jumped-up thug smelling of cheap blood. You are not worthy to stand near my granddaughter. Noah understood every word. He held his ground. His jaw locked. He stepped forward, putting himself between me and the old Don.

as hot as he sounded speaking those words to me, I hated the fact that I didn’t understand what it is he says. “It’s ,Italian ,bambina, Ask if you do not know” He said. He’s Italian. Wow. “Can we stop with the back and forth now? Tell me what you really came for or you leave my house” He stood up right then. I backed away on impulse. He stalked towards me like a tiger coming at its prey and with each step Don took forward, I took one backward until I hit the wall and he was just mere inches away from me.

Don Marco Moretti. He took the microphone, his voice rolling through the room with the kind of authority that made people sit straighter. “Ladies and Gentlemen from across the globe,” he began, “I thank you all for joining us tonight for this most prestigious gathering.” His smile widened. It wasn't a warm smile, it looked practiced. “It is with great pride and joy that I announce the engagement of my beloved daughter, Diana Moretti… to none other than Don Luca Romano, head of the Chicago Outfit.”

His whole demeanor changed as he stared at Eduardo. Eduardo was a man in the mafia business. When it came to hatred for the De Luca family, he was probably number one. “I heard you got married last month. What I didn't expect was for it to be from this family.” he stared me down and I felt uncomfortable. “Things happen. What are you doing around here? I heard you lost some shipment of goods. I thought you would be focusing on that.” Dante smirked and Eduardo clenched his fists.

I was so used to having him by my side in the middle of an important mission, and tonight was no exception. "Fuck, Enzo didn't say which of the houses would be his," Antonio cursed. My mind went through the information I had about Don. He liked to leave a mark wherever he went. What were the odds that he did the same to his hideout? "Two parallel slashes," I whispered to Antonio. "Look out for that; I have a feeling if we find it, we find Don." Antonio nodded, and we split to either side of the street. After a few minutes of looking carefully at each gate, I finally saw the slashes I was looking for. It was quite prominent, meaning that Don didn't fancy hiding himself - just the arrogant per