Vito Basso Novels & Stories

I shot a glare at Bella and Ciro. "Hey, you confirmed what we said this morning," Bella said, holding her hands up. I raised my eyebrow and said, "Johnny, Johnny, oh yes, Johnny!" Vitoria screamed in a high-pitched tone. "First, I don’t sound like a dying whale, and second, nothing happened," I said, holding up two fingers. "Yeah, right. If nothing happened, then pigs will be flying outside, because your neck says otherwise," Ciro remarked, pointing at my hickey.

It was that low gravelly voice that, at once both reassuring and unnervingly unfriendly, spoke with an undeniable authority. Silence spread across the other end of the line as Arnulfo sensed wheels turning inside Vito's head. Vito was the capo di tutti capi of the rival mafia outfit that boasted influence and outreach all over the city. They'd met before, but in no way that required them to become this close. Arnulfo knew that asking for help from a man like Vito was dangerous-but desperate times called for desperate measures. "I am listening," Vito said flatly, his voice indifferent, but interested.

Calista led the man inside and Emily shrugged before going to sit beside Violet. “I don't mean to pry,”: Violet said, “But who is that man? He looks creepy, how can your mom let him inside her yard?” “I know right? He's around the same age as his boss, Chief Bassan but uglier.” Violet stiffled back a laughter and cleared her throat when she saw the workers staring at them, “Be nice.” She whispered to Emily. “I don't have to. He's really ugly. If they're not blind, they should know that, it's pretty obvious.”

The snow fell lightly outside the windows of the war chamber, coating the black stone balcony in a fine shimmer of frost. The fire crackled behind Valerian as he stood with one hand resting on the edge of the long stone table, a scroll half-unfurled in front of him. The emblem of the Morello pack marked the parchment in dark crimson ink, bold and unapologetic. Alexandro had agreed to the neutral meeting, but the contents of the letter didn’t sit right with him.

That would be bad on my part. "Sei un tale rompicoglioni (You're such a pain in the ass)," Vittore growled as he tightened his grip. "Senti chi parla (Look who's talking)," I gasped out. "I should kill you right here," Vittore said. "Then do it," I taunted with a smile. Vittore's hands continued to tighten around my neck and I gasped for air, trying to pull his hands away. Black dots begun to cloud my vision.

“I don’t know. For a while now.” “No shit. With the way he was taking that cock, definitely for a while.” I still couldn’t get the image out of my head. Sebastian — huge, cold, always acting superior — bent over a desk moaning like a whore while Vito fucked him senseless. Have you seen the guy? He looks like a top. Not huge-huge, but definitely top-sized compared to Vito. “Anyways, I think—” Bethany started. “Who are you speaking to?”

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

Behind him trailed Bellamy, looking visibly uncomfortable. "Do you even understand what you're doing, Rossella?" he barked. "The whole of Cicaro is laughing at me, and you're out here entertaining yourself with another man?" Before I had the chance to defend myself, Vito had quietly stood before me. He was slightly taller than Enzo. When he looked down at him, he exuded an unmissable pressure. "Don Vitale, I believe I've already made myself clear," Vito said. "Rossella is now my fiancee. Being with me is exactly where she's supposed to be. As for you…"