Vito Garfield の小説・ストーリー

Aria “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” “Huh, who?” I smiled at my new friend, Stella. Of course, I knew who she was talking about. She was talking about the man I had been staring at for the past hours. It was common at weddings for another woman to stare at the bride, but my eyes couldn’t leave one of the handsome groomsmen. Vincenzo Garcia. Others had often said his late father was poison and that no one should get involved with him or the remaining Garcia’s, but I just couldn’t help myself. Maybe it was because my family was new in town, so whatever damage the Garcia’s might’ve done, it didn’t matter to me.

The Vito gang watched them retreat, their leader's cold, calculating gaze following the Giuperes' every move. Vito himself stood at the center of the battlefield, his tailored suit miraculously untouched by the chaos around him. He had an aura of calm authority about him which contrasted starkly to the bloodshed that surrounded him. He took a pull on his cigar, letting the ember glow brightly in the dark.

"Why did you help my father—the Avtoritet of your enemy? Why were you willing to help us?" "Have you heard nothing, Marie?" Vito's expression softens. "Because I love my family. Aria was among the best of us. I knew she was making a big mistake, and I should've said something to Christian before she eloped. But I didn't, and not a single day goes by that I don't regret that decision." Vito gazes past Maria as he recalls that fatal day. "Eighteen years ago, I went to help Aria and Zakhar run from their house in Long Island. The Ivanov brigadiers wanted control of the Bratva, and Zakhar was in their way, so they made him look like the villain for marrying her."

And amidst it all, Natalia's unwavering gaze bore into mine, a silent challenge that hinted at a deeper game being played. Vito's stern voice cut through the air like a knife as he cornered me after the meeting. "Damien," he began, his gaze piercing, "I know about the invitation you received from the Founder's Association." My heart skipped a beat. How could he possibly know about that? I tried to maintain my composure, but inwardly, I was scrambling for a response. "And what if I have?" I replied cautiously, trying to gauge his intentions. Vito's expression remained unreadable, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—was it concern? "You should put in a good word for me when you get t

Xavier (wincing): "You here to stab me yourself?" Vito (smiling coldly): "No. I want you alive." Xavier: "How flattering." Vito (leans in, whispers): "You're not who you say you are." Xavier: "I never said who I was." Vito: "And I will prove it. Piece by piece. Memory by memory." Xavier (raspy): "Then dig carefully. There's fire buried there."

I exclaimed, informing Kieran of the text I had just received from him. "Bring him here." Kieran orders as he takes a seat behind the desk. I nod my head in reply and silently make my way out of the office towards the front entrance. I nod to Hawk as he enters, and together we make our way back to the office. Both Hawk and I choose to stand, facing my brother as we digest what Hawk is telling us. "My sources tell me that early this morning, Vito's body was found slung over the statues of the horses on top of the Soldiers and Sailors memorial at the entrance to Prospect Park." Hawk informs.

Two months and this woman has my heart already. When I know she’s finally asleep, I call the two minders in and station two more guards outside and inside the bedroom. Lucia has grown fond of Laz and Ricky, so I couldn’t kill them for allowing my mother to escape, but I did punish them. I walk outside the mansion and see Vito standing next to his car. He sees me approaching, flicks his cigarette to the ground, and walks toward me, looking apologetic. “Giovanni-” he starts, but my fist meets his nose in a satisfying crunch and he cries out, bent over double. “FUCK!”

I hung back, pretending to check something on my own phone while straining to hear. "I don't care if the plate number is fake, find a way to bring me a name." Vito's free hand clenched into a fist. He ended the call and turned, catching me watching him. For a split second, something dark flickered in his eyes. "Vito," I said softly, stepping closer. "You need to rest. This isn't good for you." He didn't move away this time, but he didn't reach for me either. "Rest? While Zoya is fighting for her life in there?" His laugh was bitter. "You really don't understand anything, do you, Takara?"

"My family, and everyone else in New York, know me as Christian Cartwright, or the Cartwright playboy." He lifted his hand suddenly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a flurry of tingles through my skin. "And your other identity?" I whispered. "Don Vito." He murmured. "One of New York's most ruthless mafia bosses."

“And if I come out successful… will I be rewarded with an orgasm?” His grip on her tightened, almost painfully, his body vibrating with need. “You’re really daring, baby girl, don’t push your luck.” He then tilted his head towards an older man across the room, who was laughing like a lunatic, talking to three women and drinking heavily. “That’s your target for the night,” Hades said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper in her ear, his hips grinding deeper. “His name is Vito Carbone.” He gave her his background: “He’s an Italian.”