Vincent Larusso Young Novels & Stories

The young Lady thought to herself. " A Penny for your thoughts young lady " The voice of Marco, the underboss of Italian organization came at once and Iris jolted back to reality. She stood up from the floor she sat down and walk into his arms, throwing caution to the wind. He patted her on the back comfortingly and she linger on a little longer. Slowly She perceived maximo's scent on him that indicates he has been with the Italian Mafia Boss.

I should have known it wasn't going to last. "Mrs. Carusso," one of the older board members said as he put his pen down slowly. It was Reeves, who had been on the board since before I was born, and I was willing to bet that he answered to Lucas Valmoria more often than he answered to me. "Forgive my curiosity, but the timeline of your relationship with Arian has been quite fascinating. May I ask how you two met?" There was a lilt of a blade in his voice.

Tellan, Vinny, and the three capos; Yeyo, Marvin, and Lashar were all there too, sitting around the room in serious silence. Victor’s words echoed in the room as Lusso had replayed the record: “I despise him... he’s still breathing...” Lusso took off his headphones and sighed. “He’s coming for us.” Macholo scoffed, shaking his head. “Let him come. That man is a fool if he thinks Zagaff is anything like Nicholas Amaro.” The room erupted with laughter. Marvin clapped his hands, amused. “Nicholas was soft. He wanted to be a boss and a saint. You can’t be both.”

The elevator doors slid open to the top floor. Lucas was already waiting. Lucas Hale had worked for Vince for nearly ten years. Loyal, efficient, and smart enough to keep his curiosity to himself. “You asked for information,” Lucas said, holding a thin file. “That was fast.” Lucas gave a small shrug. “Not much to find.” That made Vince pause. “Explain.” They entered Vince's office, a massive glass-walled room overlooking the city skyline. Lucas placed the file on the desk. “She’s twenty-four years old,” he began.

Marcel didn’t say a word, he didn’t object on his beta, and clearly his best friend, staying in the room. “Do you want to get something to drink?” He asked me, and I shook my head as I looked down at the man who I knew was fighting back his own blood. “Thank you for calling me.” I said, looking at Vladimir who nodded. “I should be the one thanking you for trusting me.” He said, watching as Marcel fought back his own demons tonight, fought back his pain and anger. Whatever had caused this trigger, I knew that it was not easy for him to control.

Eros Two men sit across from me in my office. Ciro Nasato and Lucca Verga both wear crisp, decent black suits, their hair slicked back, rings on their fingers, watches gleaming as if recently cleaned. Ciro's the older of the two, heavier than Lucca, with dark bags under his eyes. Lucca's in his early twenties, athletic and muscular, a good-looking young man, but an ugly red wound that'll turn into a nasty scar through his cheek and ear tells me a lot about what these men have gone through in the last few weeks.

She spoke tauntingly making my mouth left ajar in shock and embarrassment…. James Russo! You are going to be fucking death of me!!

I've been unable to say anything throughout the last twenty minutes that they have been talking. "So you're trying to say... that you... the most innocent cheerful girl in New York met... Alessandro Vito Lombardi... The Alessandro Vito Lombardi... The arrogant Alessandro Vito Lombardi. The billionaire Alessandro - " Lucas stated after repeating what I had just said what seemed like an infinite number of times. He's somehow still going on. "Yes, that Alessandro Vito Lombardi." Abbey said frustratedly through the phone, from hearing Lucas go on and on.

To those in the dark, he was the Devil himself. Inside his office, the city stretched beneath him through floor-to-ceiling windows. He poured a glass of whiskey and stood in silence, watching raindrops trail down the glass. The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Vince entered a few minutes later with a tablet. “I’ve started digging on her, boss. Aria Russo, twenty-two. Works part-time at a small café downtown. Lives alone since her mother died three years ago. Clean record, nothing suspicious so far.”

Apparently, Bartolomeo, who until then was the Sottocapo, tried to show service by attacking the enemy's house, however, he left the Bonaccorso's son alive and, of course, Giorgio Rizzi, who was hunting him like crazy. Vince went to college, got a degree in Business Administration from NYU. He did everything a young man his age did, except have close friends, get involved in any serious romantic relationship —not to mention he was a professional killer. Giorgio was a second father to him, the way a godfather should be. And he never tried to subdue the boy or take hold of his place inside the Organization. Unfortunately, when Vince turned twenty, Giorgio, who had put on a little more weight b