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COMMODO - THE GODFATHER OF ITALIAN MAFIA - DAJANA DIVERNO
However, he always enjoyed talking to Ivan during Sunday lunches after mass. They talked about the work, but still they were feeling pleasant. And there was no lack of a strange grimace on Bartosz's face as he spoke with him. All the time he watched him, thinking that it would be nice when the him head would be covered by the plaque and he would become the heir to the entire chain.
Soon.
He knew he shouldn't give up.
And he made plans ...
- Some of these songs have soul. Oh honey, how nice it is when I can say it. Writers and only writers are always tend that their works which they create also survive, and become a part of eternity - Gina whispered, leafing through the new book of love poetry, amazed by how Bartosz had guessed her taste. - Do you think artists are unhappy?
- I suppose, otherwise they wouldn't write. Many people are unhappy - he was impressed with her enthusiasm for that cheap book.
- Maybe. Love is something that they regret - she stared at him with her childish eyes. - Do you agree?
- Absolutely - he confirmed quickly. For him, love was an abstract concept of Hum's mythology. There was only sex, authority and power.
- I like it so much that in this way you worry about me - he curled up next to her, feeling his virility swollen. They kissed ...- I like to take care of you, madamoiselle.
She always smiled when he called her that. - Do you want to take a walk?
They walked along the beautiful beach which was a part of her father's property. They were barefoot, and the water slowly wet their feet. Gina was happy. The smile adorned her face.
- I think I can say that with you, I can understand all that low quality music and the songs that are written. I know you think it's stupid, but I really feel that way. I'm in love - she hugged him even stronger, she wanted him to understand that he thought that way. - And you?
Bartosz winced. - I'm in love too. But madamoiselle mia, we see love and understand it in a completely different way. I will never be able to experience falling in love like you, and you will never see love with my eyes.
- I know dear, but I'm so happy. - Bartosz smiled. - I like to hear that.
- What?
- This' 'yes'' '. The important thing that you feel very happy when you are in the company of someone, how you feel with me. She rested her head on his shoulder.
- I feel all the beauty of romance - he sigh. Sometimes (like that time) romance was a real hassle for him. He answered nothing. They walked in peace, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
He thought of Rahela, realizing that she was not, not even a bit, a nuisance for poetry, lyric, romance and emotion. He was convinced that she didn't even know the meaning of these words well. They returned to the villa in a deep conversation about the book ...
He had several jobs to do in Sicily. And they were tied to his systematic killing job. Some people no longer obeyed Ivan's orders. And they became a threat.
One of them was a lawyer Nikola Avordeni. A thirty-seven year old man, single, dedicated wholeheartedly to his work. In recent years, he regularly performed all the tasks related to Ivan's soldiers. In recent months his loyalty to work began to subside. He found a million reasons that this or that soldier left to rot in prison.
Ivan ordered his execution. They were sitting in a bar called ''Luka ''. He glanced towards the port and the row of anchored ships. The seagulls were seen on the fence, and some sailors went close to them, and they were going to the restaurant.
Nikola was sitting at the table and watching what was going on. Bartosz was in front of him. - Do you want another beer, Niko ?! Bartosz asked him in a very pleasant voice. His eyes were cold.
Post je objavljen 10.06.2020. u 17:33 sati.