Vito Basso Novels & Stories

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.”

“Let him feel the same what he makes you feel, shouldn’t he? He deserves it!” “Yes, he deserves it. Scumbag!” Blue mutters as well. “Just look at him. He looks pissed off!” Jeremy laughs and dominated by the curiosity jumping inside me, I steal a glance at Dante who is glaring at us. I sigh, finally not minding Jeremy’s deed. Being stupid friends of mine, I know they do not like the people who has hurt me once. Dante Rocco is one of them.

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.

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…"

"I don't need any man to be my best man right now because I'm enough with Ace and happy with him, and if I ever want one in the future, it won't be Sebastian." Vito said nothing but hugged my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "You don't need any pathetic man to be happy. You're happy because of yourself and your son, who loves you more than any man. That's enough." "That's enough." I nodded in agreement. ***

POV: Matteo "Say that name again," I said, and every soldier in the room heard how carefully I kept my voice from shaking. Rosa Conti stood slowly, one hand pressed against the back of her chair, her face pale beneath the harbor light pouring through the tall windows. "Vittorio Basile," she repeated. "He worked beside Corrado for years before either of our families were what they became. I thought he had disappeared. I never once imagined he had a daughter."