The Italian's Mistress Melanie Milburne Novels & Stories

Vlora got seated on the sofa chair. A glass of wine in her left hand. "Thank you for messing up my deal? What intentions, sister?" He continued with a scoff, "Everybody is either a liar, cheater or with bad intentions. Right?" "Correct..." she spoke before shrugging her shoulders. "You want to see?" she asked and all he could do was to stare at her. _____________________________________ "Travolta, darling. could you help me with my luggage?" Melvin asked with a smirk. He was a handsome guy, his green coloured eyes always twinkled, he was either excited or plotting something. His dark brown hair messed up in spikes...he had fair skin, his muscles pumped up from his leather jacket.

I shook my head, "After Milo Megestanis died, his mate had an affair with a man named Roberto Benedetta and had a daughter called Milly-" "Roberto Benedetta...he works for the mafia. I'm sure of it," Leo interjected. "I'll get onto that in a minute," I said. "Anyway, the reason you don't know of this girl is that Max and his brothers have been keeping her a secret her entire life. And he's done a good job. Well, until during the war when I stumbled across her lost and alone in the woods. Long story short, we ended up bumping into Max and he told me there was something different about Milly and that no one can know about her. Then he disappeared into exile and I didn't see him at all until th

she said in Italian. “Speak English!” Fiona roared. “Don’t you put on an act with me!” Her madness was so pathetic I almost laughed. “Fiona, this is Contessa Elena di Medici,” I said calmly. “A countess from Florence. My client.” “Client?” Fiona sneered. “You think I’m blind? I saw how happy you two were! The way she was looking at you, like she wanted to eat you alive!” I looked at Fiona’s twisted face, filled with disgust.

“You put all your attention on that bitch and her stupid club, and you forgot about me.” Brant tilted his head. “What happened?” His tone was calm, but I knew he wasn’t asking about her feelings—he wanted the facts. Melissa leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “Caught the motherfucker in bed with Trisha. The fucking bitch.” “Trisha Moretti?” Brant said it like a statement, not a question. Melissa scoffed, raising her eyebrows. Before anyone could say more, a woman walked in holding a bottle of wine—Brant’s favorite. She was older, with beautiful features, her long hair swept back neatly into a bun that showed off her sharp cheekbones. She wore the kind of expensive dress that whispered old mone

My gaze lands on Marianne, more fragile, more uncomfortable. — Marianne, I want you to feel at ease here. No one will harm you… unless you open your mouth about what you’ll see in Italy. Understood? — Yes, sir… I won’t see anything. I won’t hear anything… Are you Italian? — The boss of the Italian mafia. She pales. Hands trembling, she drops to her knees. — Oh my God… what has Ariane gotten us into? Please… don’t kill us… let us go…

A relentless migraine throbbed behind my eyes, and I could only think about pouring myself a glass of wine—a little relief was all I wanted. As I stepped inside, I loosened my collar, already anticipating the moment I could pour myself a glass. Earlier today, I had received a call from Don Vittorio Moretti—Luciana’s father. With formal politeness, he invited me to dinner the next evening, as if it were just another routine gathering. But it was far from ordinary; he was set to introduce his new wife. From what I understood, she was the eldest daughter of the Serbian mafia—a woman without any suitors to claim her hand. So, Vittorio decided to step in, marrying her when she was due for wedlock

“We’ll be on our way now. I expect to hear back as soon as tomorrow.” I winked at Ariana and her cheeks immediately heated up. Matteo looked a second away from murdering me. His reactions to me fucking with him would never not be funny. “Let’s go, Mikhail.” I made my way out of the office with Mikhail hot on my tail. I could feel the glares of the Italians on my back as we headed for the front door. Too bad for them. I was having their princess whether they liked it or not. “Are you sure they’re going to agree? It doesn’t seem like they want to let go of her,” Mikhail said as I started up the car.

After pausing for a moment, she still opened the door and went out. When she returned to her office, Emilie was holding a phone to chat with Mia. Emilie said: "Rich men sure know how to play, that is to say, Melina suffered for others?" Mia replied: "Looks like this woman is his true love." She walked over. When she saw the photo on Emilie's phone, her face turned Osborn. In that photo, Rolando covered her head and pushed her into the carriage. Someone uploaded it to the internet.

“He's moved by the littlest things as long as they are intentional. The man was moved when I cooked him soup when he was sick.” “So, what do you have planned?” Melanie asked. “I'm going to need to make sandwiches and stop by the store for a few suppliers,” I said with a smile. “I have a date to plan.” *** “Melanie Guerra,” Melanie said to the bouncer going through the guest list. “This is my plus one — Mia. I RSVP’d about it.” The man went through the list. After spotting our names, he nodded and let us through the velvet. Melanie was wearing a beautiful black black dress that was at her knees. It hugged the top of her body and flowed around her waist. She matched it with silver heels and a

His hair was brushed back, his jaw clean, his dark eyes finding me instantly. And God, he looked like a fallen angel. Even Elena Dubois, the event planner of billionaires and royalty flown in from Paris, paused immediately when she saw him, pressing a hand over her heart dramatically. “Oh my God,” she whispered to Giulia, “no one told me the Devil of Milan was this handsome.” Valentino’s lips curved into a soft smirk as he walked toward me. “Can I see my wife for a moment?” he asked, glancing at Elena. Elena clapped her hands, her French accent thick as she teased, “Ah, Don Romano, I know you cannot resist, but we have a schedule! However… for you, two minutes.”