Vita Nostra Novels & Stories

She was the one in Maria's office. Clara heard gossip about a woman coming to visit Maria about an issue relating to the company. Clara hoped that the woman would provide a solution for their falling company because the statistics were getting worse as expected. "What was her name? We heard, she came from Italy." For a moment, Clara tried to focus her thoughts on her work but she couldn't stop thinking that there was something wrong somewhere. What woman would come from Italy to patronize the CRUZ company? A wave of shock passed through her body and she got up from her seat immediately. Without wasting time, she walked out of the department and headed for Valeria's office.

she said as she left the room She looked at the key which had fallen on the ground, "Make sure the edges of the French toast aren’t burnt" she whispered as she hissed, she picked up the key and opened the pantry. She brought out some veggies and started chopping them, "Noor, why haven't Afraah prepared our breakfast, I am hungry" she heard Jamil's voice coming from the dining room "She didn’t prepare the breakfast before she want us to starve, that’s right Afraah is a very wicked girl that’s why I always tell you to stay away from her," Noor said as she peeked at the kitchen and glared at Afraah

(beautiful) Bella didn't understand what he said but he has strong foreign accent. "Who are you? Let me go... Now!" She demanded in brave voice. "scorre nel sangue, vedo" (It runs in a blood, I see) He chuckled. "Sono felice che tu non sia diventata come quella vita bassa" (I am glad you didn't become like that low life) "Who are you?" She yelled. "Voice down little girl, don't make me disciple you"

Strong ones. I had not expected Dante Vitale to have strong opinions about nappy brands. He had researched it — of course he had, this was the man who had annotated books three times and had thought about the afternoon light on kitchen tiles for weeks — and had arrived at a position he was prepared to defend. "You researched nappy brands," I said one evening. "I researched what was best for her," he said. Not defensive. Simply factual. "You are the same person who managed the Moreno situation and the Vasiliev network and the Castellani relationship," I said.

[Noah's POV] Don Viti snatched a gold pen from his breast pocket. He grabbed a clean linen napkin from the table and began scribbling. "I am Viti! I own the south!" Don Viti bellowed. He threw the napkin at Adrian's chest. "The deeds to twelve luxury resorts along the Amalfi Coast," Don Viti declared. He pointed a shaking finger at the wrinkled linen. "And the monopoly on the southern legal vineyards. Put them in my granddaughter's name by sunset."

When he pulled back, I murmured with a sad smile, “But life’s not a novel….” He shook his head at me. “We’ve got other lives to take care of. You got yours….” He swallowed and exhaled, “And I’ve got mine.” He lowered his gaze to my fingers resting on his lap and slotted his through mine before adding, “We didn’t start out as Mafia, Juliette.” “‘Virtus’... refers to ‘valour’ in classic Latin.” I sniffed. When he looked at me in renewed surprise, I clarified, “It was in a diary, written by one of my ancestors.”

Around the edge was a Latin motto: Ille Protectus, meaning The Shielded One. My jaw tightened hard. It truly was The Vergine d’Ombra, also known as La Vergine, the ultimate Italian Mafia protection plaque no one, including me, dared to mess with. The sight of it meant one thing and one thing only: whoever held it was untouchable.

She was full of smiles and it seemed at that moment, the picture was taken on the most happiest day of her life. Her picture was carefully positioned above others with everything else leading back to her. On the top of it all was the word: REVENGE. Vespera stared for a minute and raised, her hand, touching Lorna's face. Her gaze darkened and her face turned pale. "I have been playing low for weeks now, Lorna. I can't be patient anymore. It's time to unleash what I am made of. I have to find who hated you this much to your point of death and I need to make them suffer." These words dropped like poison as her eyes moved from one person to the other in anger.

Lorenzo made coffee too strong. Dante talked too loudly. Sofia argued with everything on principle. And Valeria sat at the kitchen table in the Palermo morning with her notebook open and her father's handwriting in her margins and the name on the page that was going to become something real and lasting and honest. Romano-De Luca Maritime. She added one more line beneath it. Founded in the belief that the people here deserve honesty. Her father's words. Hers now. She closed the notebook. She looked at the kitchen.

"Latin?" "Yeah." I smiled at him again. "Ever heard of it?" "No. Translate it, please?" "Sure. It's St. Benedict's prayer." I cleared my throat. "Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux would be: The Holy Cross be my light. Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux is: May the dragon never be my guide. Vade Retro Satana means: Get away, Satan. And Nunquam Suadeas Mihi Vana would be: Never tempt me with your vanities."