The Phantom Of The Opera Don Juan Novels & Stories

SARIAN For a moment my heart thuds against my ribs as I stood motionless. I was crushed by the weight of his words even though he had walked away like he never was there. Tell him that Don Julio was here. The words kept making my heart beat and I started sweating profusely. Don Julio Rossini, The Jaguar like he was called. My father had stolen from him and now I was in trouble and in danger. My chest tightened making it impossible for me to breathe and I felt tears rolling down my eyes.

As the passenger sprang out and straightened to an imposing height the breath caught in Jacqueline’s throat. Her green eyes widened with disbelief. It couldn’t be, it simply couldn’t be! The man was Jaime’s despotic big brother, Diego Francisco Martinez del Río! She shrank back to the side of the window but continued to stare at him. It was Diego, the duke, all right! He had the impact of a tidal wave on her self-command. There he was: the male who had crushed her every prejudice overpowered her defenses and reduced her to a level of eyelash-fluttering, giggly compliance.

It wasn't Lucas's voice on the other end, but a burst of rough laughter. "The Don’s got some moves. Bella finally agreed to sign over the Gallo shares," a gravelly voice said. One of Lucas’s top guys. "If it weren’t for Miss Sofia whispering in the Don’s ear every day, saying Bella’s mother raised her wrong, that all she cares about is power, the Don would’ve never made up his mind."

Now, all he felt was a simmering loathing. “You think I’m one of your whores now, don’t you, that you can ignore and hang up on whenever you want?” Domenico sneered. Luciano made a face. “Father, please. I would never mistake you for one of my whores.” “I’m serious, Luciano.”

Jane let out a surprised chuckle, and sipped her cocktail. "Luca De Santo doesn't die. It will take a lot to bring him down,” she said. “Do you think he will come back home?" “Of course," Jane nodded. “It is his house. He will come back eventually." "Do you think he is angry?” Jane stared at me, expressionless. "The Don doesn't show emotions. No one can tell if he's happy or angry. So I don't know. But the last person that attempted what you did begged for death.”

She was in front of Don Pablo; she was unable to look him in the eyes, but Don Pablo was fixated on her from head to toe as he struggled to control his rage. "Carmen," is Don Pablo's first statement, "so I heard about what occurred here the other day; with all the drama you have with Juana, you can't blame her if she explodes at you; you know for a fact how much she loves her only son and she just want the best for him.

I told him my name, my voice barely above a whisper, but before he could respond, the door opened, and the man who had bought me at the auction entered. "Merda, Luciano! What happened?" The shock was clear in his voice as he observed the scene in front of him from the doorway. (Shit Luciano) "I should be the one asking you, Franco. I return and find some girl in my room, claiming to be a maid," The Don replied, his eyes trailing the length of my body before looking away, showing his lack of interest. "I didn't know we were taking in strays, Franco." The insult felt like salt on an open wound.

He had never been rash. As for Don Quijote, Tyr was somewhat hesitant because this man had about the same virtues as Juan. The only difference was, Juan liked getting into relationships with rich young ladies from elite families and royalty from around the world. All of these girls held great power and authority. Meanwhile, Don Quijote preferred getting involved with people from the entertainment industry. Many internationally famous celebrities were his mistresses. The guy even set up a film production company in America named DonQ Pictures, where he had produced quite a few world-renowned artistes.

Victor's point of view. I leaned back in my chair, the cold blade of the knife glinting under the dim light as I peeled an apple with deliberate precision. My focus wasn’t on the fruit, though. It was on the sniveling mess dangling over the edge of the room, blood dripping from his swollen face. Mateo's voice broke the tense silence, his desperate pleas ringing out. "Please! Please, I’m sorry I betrayed you, Don! It wasn’t intentional!"

Juana and Alejandro feared receiving the three men, their expressions contorted with fear and confusion. “Don Gio, to what do we owe this visit?” they addressed the exquisite middle-aged man with a few silver hairs. No one could forget the ruthless Mafia Don, once known as the ‘devil in white,’ but Giovanni’s expression was not welcoming, even as he addressed them amicably, “Meet my best friend, Hank, and my first son, Roger.” “There is no need for an introduction. The news concerning your success never stops,” Juana commented, blocking the entrance with her slim frame.