Untouchable Sam Mariano Novels & Stories

The untouchable king was shivering, just slightly, though he would never admit it. Samuel was standing ten feet away. He was not shouting. He was not shifting. He was simply existing in a state of absolute, terrifying stillness—the kind of stillness a wolf adopts when it has finished the hunt and is merely deciding where to bite. The athlete, the champion, the golden boy—all those versions of Samuel had been stripped away, leaving only the man who had been hollowed out by seven years of lies. He looked at Antonio the way one might look at a specimen in a jar—something he had been trying to identify for nearly a decade and had finally, irrevocably, placed.

"It's been a while since I met you. Why don't you go back to Indonesia? Poor Salim group, their leader is enjoying himself abroad." "Careless!" the man retorted. "I'm in Korea expanding my business network, Sam. Not for leisure." "Yes, I believe. Oh, let me introduce. This is my wife, Arianna Grey. You can call her Esmeralda." "If she's Esmeralda, then who are you?" "Luis Fernando, of course. He's indeed the partner in that telenovela." "Samuel!" "Just kidding, dear." The man laughed after seeing Arianna pout immediately. "Let me introduce you. This is my cousin, he's 11:12 with Randy. They're in cahoots with the one-armed crocodile."

He would never let a woman work the evening shift. With Linda’s okay, I move through the swinging doors into the kitchen and empty out the trashcans on my way out the back door. Sam, our chef, is leaning against the alleyway wall across from the door, a cigarette between his lips. With the bandana tied around his head, the tattoos covering both his huge forearms completely and the large scar that runs from the left corner of his mouth all the way to his ear, he looks more like a dangerous criminal than a cook. If I didn’t know him, I think I’d avoid walking down this alley altogether. I have no doubt that he has a motorcycle stashed away somewhere, he just looks like the type you’d expect to

"He was just showing me the 'ground-and-pound' technique. Though I think he was mostly just using me as a mattress. Turns out, being a mafia don is exhausting work; he probably just needed a nap." The two men standing behind Jett shared a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief. One was a tall, scarred man with a heavy build, and the other was a lean guy with tech-shades hanging from his shirt. "Samson, shut up," Gio hissed, his voice like a rattling tail of a snake. He turned to his men, his posture stiffening back into the cold, untouchable leader. "It’s not what it looks like. He’s clumsy. He tripped and dragged me down because he doesn't know how to use his own feet."

“What’s the worst Terry could be getting from this?” Sam closed his book and kept his pen away. “It’s hard to know,” Sam said, speaking fluently and at ease. He looked young—soft even. The kind of man who had never truly struggled, born with a silver spoon and polished by privilege. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he fit the profile of a nepotism baby or if he was something worse, the lawyer safeguarding Enzo and Marco’s illegal dealings. Tilting my head slightly, I observed him a moment longer. Then, without a word, I left the kitchen just as Sam began walking Isa through the possible outcomes.

the man said. “You made a mistake coming here tonight,” Aldo said in a voice filled with anger. “Are you sure? Or did Damian plan this perfectly,” the man chuckled. “Leave immediately,” Aldo said, stepping closer to him. The man stepped forward too. “You don’t scare me, Marino.” In a swift motion, Also disarmed him and pinned him against a tree, his arm pressing into his neck. “Damian asked me to tell you that you are not untouchable,” the man rasped.

I ask Sam as we stand at the door to our team leader’s office, waiting to be called in. “Yes, sorry,” She says apologetically. “My older brother’s in town tonight. He’s due for a visit.” “Sounds exciting!” Sam rolls her eyes. “Oh, trust me. You won’t think Damien’s exciting when you meet him. Has to be the most uptight person I know.” I roll my eyes in turn. She hasn’t met the two men in my life then. Anthony’s worse and Taylor’s just – well, as bad. “Wait until you meet the ones I know.”

Larkin snapped with a glare, “You win. Again. Bastard,” Rhiannon clapped her hands, dramatically bursting into laughter, “And the crowd goes wild! Ladies and gentlemen, Sam the Unbearable takes another victory,” Rhiannon didn't realise Sam had this personality. He was so serious during the attack and now she was seeing a different side to him. Sam rose, extending a hand to pull her up. Larkin rolled her eyes as she took his hand. Then, Sam turned to Rhiannon with a mock bow, "Unbearable, but undefeated,"

He looked around the room and acknowledged the fact that his members are there with him. Samantos is becoming too daring. He knows me and chose to play with me. "He chose to play with fire!!!" He shouted and the whole building shook. The guys were no longer surprised. A phone call jolted them back to life. Red, as he is popularly called stepped out to hand over the phone to Eric. Red, second in command, fastest shooter. He is called Red because of the number of people he has killed. He looks deadly dangerous. After Eric, no one dares him. A scar was visible on his face showing he had a rough childhood. Well, what more can you expect from a Capo? He relocated to the city after being beaten to

The anger that I felt surely reflected in my eyes, I knew that very well, but I didn’t know where things were going from here, but I surely wasn’t excited. “I keep finding out about facts that I know that I wouldn’t have known if this didn’t happen. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel about it, Mario,” I said, keeping my eyes out the window. My shoulder was patched and stitched, but I knew that things were going to be a lot more difficult as things went on. With Cosimo being the traitor all along, I didn’t know how we were going to be dealing with things from here. The man was my father’s ‘ally’. How were things going to go from here?