Don't Shoot

Don't Shoot

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Sep 2, 2019
{PG-13 for gore, cursing} When we hear the words 'zombie', most think of guns with heavy fire-power that have been conveniently left behind, all yours for the taking -- to get the job done. Getting from point A to point B with a small group of your friends while raising all Hell just to get to the end-goal. But this isn't a video game. There is no safe-zone. Your goal out here is to survive, and keep those you have left alive until you're old. You don't get breaks. You don't get lucky. Zombies aren't the only common enemy you need to look out for. Anything as loud as a few rounds going off could attract something... less than ideal. Zombies have been roaming the land for quite some time. Cities crumbling, over-run with crowds of dead-heads, towns vast and destroyed, what's left besides dead men walking and a gang of psychopaths who take what they want, no questions asked? What happens when civilization falls and only you can protect yourself from both zombies and mad-men? Don't shoot.
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When she was 14, Dalia was sold to Matteo Martinelli, the former leader of the largest Italian mafia. Flash forward with his son, Vittore Martinelli as the new leader, Dalia is given to him as a birthday present after years in spent in the "safe house". Dalia struggles to fulfill a promise she made and get her old self back as Vittore tries not to fall for the black beauty. Will they go through all the lies, jealousy, betrayal, envy, lust and murder together all in the name of love? Because at the end of it all, she is still Property Of Vittore Martinelli. * * * "Lift your hand," I said looking at how he held onto his bicep with a tight grip. "Let me take a look at the bullet wound." "No tesoro. I can do this myself," Vittore grumbled and I gave him incredulous look. "Don't start that bullshit with me Vittore. Remove your arm and let me help you or..." I trailed off, not able to say more. I was still in shock but I could do this. "Just... just let me help." "No." I glared at Vittore. "Why are you being so damn egotistic?! Let me help you! Do you know what it was like to find you like... and to..." I couldn't even get all the words out. "Let me help you. Please." Begging wasn't something I'd ever do but I just needed him to let me help him. "No-" "Why?!" I suddenly exploded. "Why won't you just let me help you?!" "Because I don't know how to handle it ok?!" Vittore suddenly exploded, his dark eyes glaring at me. "I don't know how to handle these... feelings. Fuck tesoro you drive me crazy! Don't you see that? You make me question everything I've ever known and... I can't..." I watched Vittore as his expression turned determined. "Fuck it." He leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine. * * * WARNING! Mentions of death, torture, gore, abuse and other things related to the mafia.

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