Why Does Don Lorenzo Have Gold Teeth Novels & Stories

Before his tattooed hands were shoved into his pocket, I noticed a golden ring with the skull design which signifies his title as the Mafia Don. He wasn't just devilishly handsome but super hot as well. Now I could see why Ria was so crazy about him when she was still alive. "What do you w-want?" I tried to sound bold, but failed, and he chuckled, sending weird feelings through me. "What do I want?" He scoffed, the smirk wiping off his face instantly. "Don't pretend like you aren't happy to see me." I was stunned. Happy to see him? Why would I be? Neither of us wanted this marriage; we were forced into it, but he somehow seemed to believe that I orchestrated everything.

Lorenzo stood at the altar in a black tuxedo, breathtakingly handsome. When the priest pronounced us husband and wife, Lorenzo lifted my veil and gave me a deep, searing kiss. The guests erupted in applause. An elderly Sicilian godfather, leaning on a cane, slowly made his way to the front to give a toast. "I want to tell a story," the old man said with a smile. "Five years ago, at a Sotheby's auction, a young Don spent twenty million on a damaged oil painting. Not because the painting was famous, but because he saw the young woman in the back, working so intently to restore it."

My back was turned as I topped off a large Bloody Mary with a stalk of celery, but I recognized the warm and very much flirty laugh. Lorenzo, as Hael had called him, sat directly behind me at the bar. His lips were already pulled back in a wide smile, showing off every single one of his abnormally straight teeth. I was blessed in the teeth department myself, but his looked like it was plucked off the cover of a magazine. “Oh, hello. What are you doing here?”

he said with a smirk. “I’m sure the donor was just happy to help out with a great cause,” I said, internally rolling my eyes. Luca placed the food in front of us and started dishing up Beatrice’s and his food before he looked at me curiously. “Where in the hell did you get 10 mil for the jewelry?” ‘Stop being so amused,’ I snapped at Bellamy. I took a bite of pancake before I answered. Both Beatrice and Luca were staring at me. Bellamy was hiding a smile as he continued typing away.

"Pri‍v‌ate r‍oa‍d." "W​e ar​e h‌ere to see​ D‌on Salvatore," Lorenzo‌ said, leanin​g‌ acro⁠ss me. He took off his su⁠nglasses to s⁠how his bru​ised face. "Tell h‍im Lo​renzo Moretti is h‍ere. Th‌e g‌ran⁠dson of‌ Alessand‍ro." T‍he​ guard look​ed a⁠t L‍orenzo.⁠ He looked at the bruise‍s. He lo​oked at m‌e.

Upstairs on the catwalks, four laser sights instantly converged directly on his skull. Amelia raised a sharp hand to her snipers. "Wait. Let him play his hand." Lorenzo slowly withdrew his hand, revealing... a plain, unadorned silver wedding band. He looked at the ring briefly before smoothly slipping it onto his left ring finger. Lorrie stared at his hand in pure shock. He had never worn it. Not once since the moment they had signed their clinical, cold corporate marriage contract in his private study.

The city's elites packed the room, and the press swarmed the entrance like a tide. Luca looked like a prince in his white suit. Sofia clung to his arm in a gown worth a fortune. The Ossuary Signet on her hand glinted coldly under the lights. She had wrapped it with thread just to make it fit, but that didn't stop her from showing it off. "This is a gift from Luca. He said it's an heirloom of the Rossi famiglia, meant only for the Donna to wear." "Wow, Mr. Rossi really spoils Ms. Constanzo, huh?"

With that, she turned and headed back into the house to check on Nina. “Leonardo, don’t misunderstand. I really haven’t met that geomancer. I did go overseas, but it was for treatment. I sold some of my bags and jewelry to pay for it.” Lorenza’s palms were damp with cold sweat. Leonardo replied coolly, “Then I suppose he got it wrong. But next time you bring someone in, make sure they’re certified first.” After all, he had almost blamed Lucia earlier. At that thought, Leonardo walked straight into the house and headed upstairs.

The whole place was spotless, like no one had ever used it. Lorenzo slipped off his black jacket and draped it over a stool. He loosened his tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. A tattoo peeked out across his chest—black wings curling around a dagger. His skin, warm and smooth, caught the low kitchen light. Lucia couldn’t help but stare. “You’re going to leave a hole in my chest if you keep looking at me like that,” he teased, flashing a grin. She quickly averted her gaze. “I wasn’t staring.”

Suddenly, the crowd parted, making way for someone who walked in as casually as if he were strolling through a fivestar hotel lobby rather than a trashed, rundown apartment. The man wore a dark gray threepiece suit that looked immensely expensive, even in the dim light of the flashlights. His leather shoes gleamed as he stepped over the door debris without hesitation. His face was sharp, with a strong jaw and eyes as black as soot that radiated absolute dominance. Matteo De Luca. Noah swallowed, his throat as dry as a desert. He recognized that face from the thousands of articles and files he had just hacked. The Don himself had come to catch him.