Vongola Novels & Stories

He put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. His warmth enveloped me, and I felt safe. “Soon. The Mancinis don’t know we’re onto them. They’re too busy looking for you, trying to weaken my hold on Italy.” Hearing a name for the people who’d sent me a severed hand made my blood run cold. “The Mancinis?” He nodded. “A smaller family that worked with the Marianos. We’re sure it’s them. Some of the victims identified members. They’re small, but they have blackmail on many powerful men. It won’t be easy to get rid of them. A war is imminent.”

He says shutting down Owen once again, he seemed a little agitated but shook his head. “Want to know what I believe Miss Hart, the friend that picked you up the night of the 16th, was Mr Vito Montalti, a known gangster who has ties to many illegal things. A man you have started to date, isn’t that right Miss Hart?” He asks with a smile on his face, his head tilted as though he was waiting for me to slip up.

We’re either getting answers today, or a fuck load more questions. The front door is already open when I walk into the foyer, and Nova Volkova walks inside. Shorter than Camellia, blonde hair, crescent moon mark below her eye and a circular gem in the middle of her forehead. It always surprises me how different to other witches she is. For one, she’s completely bubbly. “Nero! You haven’t changed at all, I see. Still broody,” she says as she approaches me with her hand outstretched. She has a few years on me, but she could seriously pass for someone younger than me.

He asked and I chuckled. Romano chipped in, sounding frustrated, “È un casino del cazzo, boss. Why would the letter serve you directly when Declan’s the face of VPA? And why drag VPA into this at all? Ageiss is in Casertai… it’s not even under the family name. Nothing should’ve linked it to us. Someone definitely fucking with us.” (It's a fucking mess boss) “You’re right Fratello. Ageiss is under our Russian connections, it shouldn’t have been linked to me,” I said, leaning forward and flipping through the summons.

“A failsafe she created decades ago. One I was stupid enough to help her build. She could erase the entire Italian syndicate structure—with one sequence of commands.” Alessa’s heart hammered. “That’s not possible.” “It’s Gloria,” Vittorio replied. “Everything is possible with her.” Alessa stared at him, horror and awe mixing like poison in her veins. “And that,” Vittorio continued, “is why she sabotaged the gala.” Alessa’s brows furrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Your little fiancé was supposed to receive one trillion dollars that night,” Vittorio said with distaste. “Do you know what one trillion does in the wrong hands?”

“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.”

“They move like a network. Decentralized. But look here — every strike they’ve made hits families connected to my father’s old alliances.” She stops, tracing a name I haven’t heard in years. Silvio Montrelli. The man who once brokered Varela contracts across southern Europe. Killed a decade ago… supposedly. “Silvio’s dead,” Giovanni says. Amara’s gaze hardens. “Then tell me why his initials are coded in these bank transfers.” I step closer, looking at the papers. The signatures. The hidden M-V pattern repeating across five accounts. It’s him. Or someone using his ghost.

The man fought desperately, "I didn't do anything! I'm being framed! You have no evidence, you can't detain me..." Damien pointed to the surveillance camera above and said to the officers, "There's a camera up there. You can check the footage. As for my wife, she's had too much to drink, so I'll take her home..."

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.

“I’ve seen your photo with Xavier on social media. You and Xavier really are a perfect couple. Mr. Greco will use you as a bargaining chip until Xavier agrees to hand over what we want.” Her breath caught tight in her throat, and for a second, she couldn't swallow. God, she was wrong. Terribly wrong. This man wasn’t Xavier’s henchman. He was a subordinate of Greco Volkov, the leader of Italy's second-largest mafia and the Vanderbilt clan's sworn enemy. Damn it! Were they targeting her just because they thought she was Xavier’s girlfriend and his weakness? “You’re wrong… I’m not Xavier’s girlfriend; there’s no point in doing this to me,” Anna said between gasps of pain.