figli devono pagare per le colpe dei padri
(Children must pay for the sins of the
fathers)Robert Stone has an identity. After discovering
his father, a far greater dynasty was forged
with this dynasty comes new enemies.
From the olive groves of Italy to the
boardrooms in Washington, D.C., Robert is to command a business like no other.
Not all wars are fought on a battlefield, most
are won in the corporate arena.
Not all wars are bloody – unless you threaten
Robert’s family, of course.
Told from Robert Stone and Rocco Sartorri’s
point of view, Fallen Angel, Part 5 picks up from the end of Part 4 and
explores a unique relationship.
Two powerful men, both with secrets and enemies,
come together in this explosive story of revenge, lost love, and hate that
spans thirty years.
A Mafia romantic suspense for readers over the
age of 18
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eyes opened and it took me a minute to realize where I was. I was lying on my
back in the clothes I’d worn the day before, looking up at an ornate ceiling. A
ceiling with plaster cherubs and painted saints, and I wondered how they felt,
looking down on a sinner.
a plan; well, I knew the outcome to my plan. A man, a very powerful man would
die by my hands. I would make that death as brutal, as painful, and as gut-wrenching
as I could.
man had ruined my life and I intended to do the same to him.
knock on the door roused me from my thoughts, I didn’t move. I had no desire to
see or speak to anyone, and if they were coming for me, then let them fucking
knock; louder that time, and more persistent, had me sighing and rolling from
the bed. I didn’t bother to look through the spy hole, no one of consequence
knew where I was, just him and his henchmen. I opened the door, then
immediately turned my back and walked away.
I heard. I pointed to a small table in front of a sofa.
a clean shirt. Don’t want to meet the Boss looking the way you are now, do
turned slowly to see the prick who had held a gun to my head. He sneered. I
made a mental note, that smirk would be wiped from his face, preferably with a
large kitchen knife. I ignored him and sat on the sofa. He let the shirt fall
to the floor. I poured a cup of coffee, inhaling its rich aroma before I took a
lifted the silver dome that covered the plate to see deviled eggs on a toasted
bun – how very European! Henchman left, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
I took a look around the plush room I had been imprisoned in. It had been dark
when I’d been brought to a hotel, I didn’t know its name or the location.
Wherever I was, it was clearly expensive. Heavy brocade curtains hung from
floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room. I stood and walked over. It
wasn’t windows I found myself in front of, but French doors. I opened one and
stepped onto a small balcony. I instantly knew then where I was.
rather obnoxious cat called George. She’s a Padi Scuba
Diving Instructor with a passion for writing. Tracie has been fortunate to have
dived some of the wonderful oceans of the world where she can indulge in
another hobby, underwater photography. She likes getting up close and personal
and its accompanying books are mafia romance and full of suspense. A Virtual
Affair, Letters to Lincoln and Jackson are angsty, contemporary romance, and
Gabriel, A Deadly Sin and Harlot are thriller/suspense. The Facilitator is