Novel & Cerita The Italian Job Game

I glanced at the man, instantly recognizing his features. "Who are you?" the guy snaps. He looks like he is going to eat flesh right now. He appears to be an Italian Mafia boss.

I grunted. "Well, this one is important. Since you're new you might not know this, but everyone here is playing a death game. An assasination and survival game to be exact." "A 'what' game!?" I almost raised my voice, "What do you mean?" now saying it softer.

He was aware that she desired him professionally. The issue was that once a large corporation, such as Cass Pharmaceuticals, fired an agency, it became an open season. The other agencies surrounded us like sharks. She could not help but think Casper Sullivan was secretly tickled by the attention that he caused where ever he went and not only because of his good looks. "I'm delighted you made it, Anika. “Have you contacted Casper yet?" Anika turned to see Jacob Stoll, her boss, standing a foot away. He wasn't drinking anything. He didn't even appear to be overjoyed to be here.

But all that had lasted for twenty-four hours, and then came the retaliation. She was fired, with her bank account equally frozen. Legal threats rained harder than the storm. Every door that had once welcomed her was now slammed in her face as no media company was willing to take her. And all because she touched the one untouchable man in Italy—Montez De Vitalio, the cold-blooded devil with a billion-dollar smirk.

“New crates are on the market every day, isn’t that how it works?” A scoff escaped Domenico’s throat, before his hand dug into his inner jacket pocket. He slid a card, facing it flat on the table . “Does this look familiar to you?” He asked. Gianni’s gaze flicked to it, then back up with his unwavering mocking grin. “And this is? Una carta da gioco?” (A playing card?) His gaze slid back to Lucian, “I’m not really a card man, Lucian.” Lucian leaned in, his grip around Aria’s waist as his nose flared.

“It’s unbelievable you’re in this position.” “I didn’t work the Mafia circuit until the job with Sierra came up. The intelligence from the bureau indicated she’d be likely to hire someone like me. Then I landed the De Luca job because I can speak Italian.” “I mean, anyone who looked at your file could figure out there was a connection there.” She flips the file closed with force. “James should have fought to keep you off this job.”

I pull the trigger. Gregor was looking at me, and I saw surprise on the long scarred face for the first time. One eyebrow raised, the look grotesque on his ravaged face. "You're bluffing." "Try me." I held the gun steady, and leaned into it enough that it was painful against my head. "You want revenge? Fine. But you kill him, I kill myself. Then you get nothing. Your Italian employers wanted us both dead, no? They’re hiring you for all of us. Kill him, and I'm gone — you only get half of your money. Half your revenge. Is that what you really want?”

He follows my gaze. “Oh,” he says. “Ohhhhh. Okay. Damn.” I grunt, exhausted. “…but also,” he says, eyes suddenly lighting up, “what job? Who hired you? Are they hot? Are they rich? Oh my God, is this a mafia thing? Did you take another mafia job? I swear to God, Gio, if you drag us all back into crime—” “It’s a private-bodyguard contract.” Matteo’s eyes go round. “For who?”

*Alberto’s POV* “Join us, Mattias.” Santoro told his son, patting the seat next to him. It took everything in me not to pull my gun from my back and place a bullet in each of their heads. Especially when that asšhole pulled my angel with him to the table. “Solo un gioco, padre.” (Italian for “Only one game, father.”) He said, taking the seat his father motioned before his eyes found mine. “I promised my girl we’d spend the night together.”

I made a shopping list and got ready to go to the store as Brad instructed his guys and girls to clean the kitchen while we were gone. At the store I got everything to make homemade lasagna, a hearty Italian salad, and lots of garlic bread. I bought a lot knowing bears eat a lot and I am not sure how many we are feeding. I asked Brad if it was enough and he said yes before adding some packages of cookies for dessert, I tsked and said that will not do, so I got the stuff to make a few cakes. It is still early in the morning and I had plenty of time, plus I had gotten stuff for some traditional Italian appetizers. Brad refused to let me pay for the groceries. As he began loading the groceries