Vongola Primo Romane & Geschichten

Vlad was an underboss for The Odessa, a Russian crime organization which was a rival of the Bandoni Famiglia I pulled out my phone and opened the folder with every detail of Rositto. There were several pictures of him leaving the house he was living in, usually at night. And then, finally, I had the recording of his call with Vlad. Apparently, Rositto had a thumb drive he wanted to sell to Vlad in exchange for a new hiding place accompanied with a million buck “Holy sh*t!” my father cursed after a while of going through the file. “How did you get all this?” he asked, excitement dripping in his voice.

“I need your help. There’s a man we’ve been watching—someone who thinks he’s invincible. He’s turned down our invitation to the club and insulted us with his arrogance. It’s time to take him down, and I need you to get close to him.” Desmond’s brow furrowed as he toyed with the ring on his finger, his tell when deep in thought. “Who’s the target?” “Vincenzo Volkov,” I said, watching his expression darken. “He’s the younger brother of the Bratva leader. Quiet, calculated, and a master at staying under the radar. He’s launching a new brand—Prime Estates—and needs models for his campaign. That’s where you come in.” Desmond leaned back, swirling his whiskey. “You want me to plant someone?”

The moment she mentioned the name, Lily couldn’t help but to feel intrigued–after all, she was a self-proclaimed number one shipper of this great doctor and that mafia boss! “You sound so happy. What is it, Mi amore?” Primo asked with a smile as he raised his legs on the free space of the sofa with his computer on his lap. He tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could use both of his hands typing on the keyboard.

“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.

"I need a complete profile. Elena Rossi. Twenty-five to thirty years old. High-end call girl, operating in Milan and Venice. Flower tattoo on left ankle. Cartier Tank bracelet. I want everything: addresses, debts, family, weaknesses, regular clients. Make it fast." I hang up without a farewell. A second number. "The Principe di Savoia, Milan. The Cipriani, Venice. For the last six months. All reservations under the name Auracio Ferrari or his shell companies. Copies of records, invoices, security camera footage if possible. Absolute discretion." I hang up. I remain there, fingers steepled under my chin, staring at the blank screen. The war has begun. Not with shouts, but with whispers into a

He was here because if Marco took over, the Vitale name wouldn't just be dirty; it would be extinct within a year, wiped out by Marco's reckless violence or federal indictments. Luca pushed the door open. The study was a cave of testosterone and tension. Three Capos, Marco, Giuseppe, and a stoic older man named Silvio, stood around a massive, antique desk, nursing tumblers of whiskey. The wall behind the desk was dominated by a framed photograph of a young Leo Vitale, standing next to a smiling politician, a piece of blatant blackmail masquerading as memorabilia.

Inside the lead vehicle, Lorenzo leaned back, fingers tapping against the window. “Old wolf,” he murmured. “Let us see how sharp your teeth still are.” He had chosen this night carefully. Bruno was distracted. Business routes were burning. Fear was spreading. And Gennado Deluca… Gennado Deluca was old. “Move,” Lorenzo ordered. The convoy accelerated. They never reached the gate. The first explosion tore the front vehicle apart in a bloom of fire. Metal screamed. Tires shredded. Bodies flung into the air like broken dolls.

The Virelli Group would collapse under the scandal. And Wolf Guard? Without its founder, with Luca destroyed? It would burn. Dominic didn’t smile, but his eyes gleamed. “Target in position,” came the whisper. Then... chaos.

The chaos he thrived on. He stood standing, not moving an inch from the window side. He could already tell who was behind the creaking opening noise of the door behind him. "Who did you say owed us five million dollars in debt?" He dropped off the whiskey glass at the edge of the tiles of the window and swiftly turned around to meet the man in black, going by the name Sergio. “Clara Winston Diere, boss. She’s the third aunt of Olivia Derie.” Vincenzo's grin stretched out with malice hearing that name again—OLIVIA DERIE. His gaze swept across the room, tiredly he slumped onto the couch graciously, his legs raised high above the other until they were crossed majestically on each other.

Not with Deirdre's safety and the safety of other women and children in mind. Who in their right mind would bring children to an event like this?! A grunt of frustration escaped me as I scanned the room. Shaking my head, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and turned to find Vittorio De Luca. He was the underboss of the Serpenti Segreti Cartel, one of the people I was supposed to meet to finalize the agreement for the Carmine Shoreline territory, which was 1440 miles from here. The second person, Adriano Romano, was yet to arrive.