#alessandra donatelli

[rafael-amado]

closed starter @alessandradonatelli // alessandra's home

Rafael adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, his stance firm as he stood outside Alessandra Donatelli’s front door. He’d been in the Family’s service for six years, but this was new territory—watching over the younger sister, a woman he’d only heard stories about. Most of them weren’t flattering.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before knocking—three solid raps. No hesitation. The door swung open, and there she was. Alessandra Donatelli looked every bit the handful he’d been warned about. Rafael, ever the professional, kept his expression unreadable. “Miss Donatelli,” he greeted, his voice steady, deep. “I’m Rafael. Your new bodyguard.” He wasn't new, but new to her, new to her space, just new in a way he was preparing for. Rafael had handled criminals, outsmarted threats, fought his way through worse than this—but something told him Alessandra Donatelli might be his biggest challenge yet.

[javier-castro]

closed starter @alessandradonatelli // manor of hope gala

Javi walked with a bounce in his step, practically radiating excitement. Galas? Not usually his scene. He wasn’t the suave, smooth-talking type that these high-society types seemed to go for. Nah, he was more the goofy, fun-loving guy who made people laugh—well, usually, that made people cringe more than anything. He didn’t get why people liked all that fancy, high-brow stuff anyway. Like, high brows just made you look like an alien, so why was that good? But tonight? Tonight, he scored. “I did it!” Javi announced to Alessandra, practically bursting with pride. He shoved his phone in her face, showing off his latest win. “I got the hottest girl here’s number. I almost wrecked a table, but hey, totally worth it!” He grinned like a puppy who just brought in a stick way too big for its size, clearly thrilled by his victory. It was all in a night’s work for him—clumsy, but absolutely loving every moment of it.

[tornethics]

closed starter @alessandradonatelli // manor of hope gala

Despite the usual flair of a charity gala, Francesca genuinely enjoyed these events. After all, a cause was being supported, and if that meant some good could come from the evening, then it was all worth it. Plus, it was a perfect chance to reconnect with friends and family. She’d been eager to catch up with her younger sister, especially since it had been far too long since they'd last seen each other. Francesca grinned as she approached her, greeting her with a warm kiss on both cheeks. “Where have you been hiding all this time?” she teased. “It’s been dreadful around here without you.”

[tornethics]

Francesca’s heart broke at the sight of her sister, the pain in Alessandra’s voice piercing through her own grief. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around her, pulling her closer, offering her the kind of comfort only a sister could. She could feel the tremble in Alessandra’s body, and it made Francesca want to shield her from all the hurt, but she knew there was no escaping it. Not now. Not with what they had lost. “Alessandra,” she murmured softly, her voice gentle and full of compassion, “you can’t blame yourself for not knowing. None of us did. None of us saw it coming, not like this.” She brushed a lock of hair away from her sister’s tear-streaked face, her fingers trembling just slightly. “You were living your life. You deserve to do that. You didn’t know what was going on in his world. You didn’t know what was happening to him.” Her words were firm but full of love, her desire to ease Alessandra’s pain outweighing everything else. Francesca’s breath hitched when her sister mentioned the last words she’d spoken to their father, and a pang of guilt tightened in her chest, though she tried to push it away. She squeezed her sister tighter. “We all have regrets,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. Francesca knew that more than anyone. “We loved him, and he loved us. And I know he wouldn’t want us to carry guilt like this.”

Alessandra could still remember the conversation they had before the gala, before finding their dad like that. The one where Alessandra confessed to not knowing it had been as bad as it was. Her father had been missing for so long and she'd just been off in Rio, completely unaware. "But I should have." She croaked out as her sister knelt next to her. Alessandra sought out Francesca's comfort and leaned into her sister's side. "I should have known something. I should have been here looking for him. Not off in a fucking bikini." Her voice broke as she let out another sob, feeling like nothing but a stupid and selfish little girl. "I was mad at him, Fran. The last words I said to him... I was being a brat." And she could never take that back. Francesca was right about one thing, she wasn't alone in this. Her other sister and their mother were in the other room sorting out the details of his funeral and burial. They were all hurting, they all had loved him. Even Francesca, who had a strained relationship with their dad, still loved him and she knew their dad loved her. "I can still see his face." She whispered.

[santinobarone]

who: @alessandradonatelli where: summit tower

Santino hadn’t been looking for her. In all honesty, he hadn’t been looking for anyone. Between the aftermath of the meeting, the funeral arrangements, and the never-ending parade of people wanting a say in what came next, he barely had time to think, let alone seek someone out.

But when he spotted Alessandra Donatelli in the dimly lit hallway of the Family’s clinic, he hesitated. He could’ve kept walking—would’ve, if he were a different man. But she looked how he felt. Hollowed out, running on fumes, trying to push forward because what else was there to do?

Santino exhaled through his nose, adjusting his watch as he stepped closer. “Alessandra.” He wasn’t the type to soften his voice, but there was something less sharp in the way he said her name. He paused, searching for the right words, before settling on the simplest truth. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

He didn’t clarify—for her loss, for the shitstorm they were all standing in, for the way grief never really seemed to come at the right time. He figured she’d understand.

[bloodngloryhq]

hello! i was interested in knowing if any of the syndicates every 'work together', like for example would the kurtlar ever hire the outlaws to provide some muscle, etc?

Hi darling! So this will be a bit of a bare bones answer, because ultimately it will come down to the individual writers and their respective leaders. At present, there is a sense of 'peace' between the organizations, so that may allow for more entanglement between them all. Otherwise, there are motions in play that are essentially tying certain organizations together, such as: the Network has a close professional relationship with the Family; and Echo being pursued as an ally to the Family through the arranged marriage of the Echo leader, Donovan Walsh, and a founding family member, Alessandra Donatelli.

Otherwise, we could absolutely see Kurtlar, or any of the other organizations, hiring the Outlaws MC for muscle. Or going to Nightshade for any such weapons deals. The organizations are essentially built upon one defining factor, which would make them a leader in that venue, and may require some of the other organizations to seek their help in that sense. And of course, an organization is only as strong as its fiercest allies, so it may benefit to work together!

[lorenzospurio]

Esce l'antologia "Buchi neri e vuoti di memoria" a cura di Vittorio Pavoncello e Luciana Raggi

Esce l’antologia “Buchi neri e vuoti di memoria” a cura di Vittorio Pavoncello e Luciana Raggi

Segnalazione a cura di Lorenzo Spurio

In questi giorni è stata pubblicata, per i tipi di Progetto Cultura di Roma, l’antologia Buchi neri e vuoti di memoria, curata da Vittorio Pavoncello e Luciana Raggi. Al suo interno figurano opere poetichedi Alessandra Carnovale, Simone Carunchio, Tiziana Colusso, Davide Cortese, Flaminia Cruciani, Laura De Luca, Angela Donatelli, Claudio Fiorentini,…

[damianovinciguerra]

Damiano watched her, the way her fingers traced the rim of her glass, the slight hesitation before she spoke. It was a tell, one he still recognized even after all these years. Francesca had never been good at masking her thoughts—not from him, at least. He leaned back slightly, his grip easing on his own drink as amusement flickered in his eyes.

'Here for the company,' she said. He almost laughed. Instead, he let the smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, tilting his head just slightly as if considering her words. “Mm. You always were a terrible liar,” he mused, his voice just low enough to make the accusation feel more like an inside joke than a challenge. He let it linger between them, studying the flicker of vulnerability in her gaze before she looked away.

"Hiding?" he echoed, his smirk softening into something less rehearsed. "Funny, I was under the impression you were always trying to be seen." A pointed glance—he didn’t need to spell it out. The articles, the stories, the way she made a living uncovering secrets. But then she turned the conversation to him, and just like that, the moment passed.

'Fill me in on you.' Damiano hummed, taking a slow sip of his champagne, buying himself a second to craft the right response. He couldn’t exactly tell her the truth—not yet. Instead, he leaned in slightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, you know me, tesoro. Always keeping busy.” He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. Back home he certainly had always been busy, just not with anything meaningful. He was busy causing trouble and earning his father's ire. Which on second thought, was plenty meaningful to Damiano. “Let’s just say I’ve found a profession where charm and good conversation go a long way.” A smooth, effortless evasion. Let her draw her own conclusions.

He watched her carefully, waiting to see if she’d take the bait, if she’d press him for details. If nothing else, Francesca had always been relentless when she wanted the truth. The question was—did she really want it now?

"Is it just you here tonight to represent the Donatellis? Or am I going to catch sight of Alessandra as well?"

Francesca sat back, her fingers tracing the rim of her own glass, avoiding his gaze for a moment. His words felt like they danced around her, too sharp to ignore but too familiar to be upsetting. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a little flustered by the way he seemed to always know just how to test her. Her smile was soft, a little forced, but she tried to let it warm her expression. "You always did have a way with words," she replied quietly, her voice almost too soft to be heard over the buzz of the room. She wasn’t sure how to respond to the implication in his tone. She wasn't here for the champagne. But, was she digging for a story? She quickly squashed that thought. She hadn’t been looking for anything in particular—she hadn’t even realized how much she'd missed seeing him. "Maybe I’m just here for the company," she said, giving a small shrug, but her words lacked conviction. She had always been terrible at hiding what was on her mind. But she also didn’t want to tell him everything—that would be opening a door she wasn’t sure she was ready to open yet. Her eyes met his for a brief moment, a flicker of vulnerability passing through her expression before she quickly looked away, the edges of her smile just a little too tight. She had no idea how to deal with the way he was looking at her, like he knew something she didn’t. "Maybe. Or maybe I just got good at hiding." There was a hint of something in her voice, but it was hard to say whether it was sadness, nostalgia, or something else entirely. "But anyway, fill me in on you. It's been too long." She sipped her drink, hoping the moment would pass, her heart fluttering awkwardly in her chest.

[alessandradonatelli]

WHO: Donovan Walsh @thewoundedveil LOCATION: Manor of Hope Gala

Alessandra's eyes had watched them for the good part of an hour, unsure of who to approach first. When she saw her sister and the man she'd been betrothed to just a few weeks ago walk in with their arms intertwined, Alessandra had almost dropped her glass. They were... were they? Were they flirting? Had something changed when she'd gone off to Brazil and her dad promised Francesca instead of herself? Francesca, while still a Donatelli, wasn't part of The Family and had made her protest against joining the gang very well known. But with her dad missing since she left and now this, Alessandra wondered if this was an omen of things to come. Eventually with another glass downed, she finally saw her sister distracted by another and she cut through the crowed to pull Donovan into an empty room right next door. "Why are you here with my sister?" Alessandra blurted out, skipping over any greeting and simply wanting to know what was going on.

[bloodngloryhq]

Welcome to Los Angeles, California - where honor comes at a price. The following characters have been accepted. Please review our checklist and submit your character accounts within 24 hours.

{ bruna marquezine, cis female, she/her } Is that ALESSANDRA DONATELLI? I heard the THIRTY year old belongs to THE FAMILY as a MEDIC. I’d stay away from them if I were you. I heard they were RECKLESS, but they can also be KIND HEARTED, so proceed at your own risk. (marie)

[carmenabalos]

Carmen couldn't hide her own amusement bubbling up in her own gaze. He had told her when Alessandra had left town and she couldn't quite believe it. "I see she returned." Her gaze sought out the younger Donatelli and landed on her across the room. "If that's the case, I think you are due for a vacation then." She elbowed him, shooting him a smile knowing that he would't ever do anything like that. Even if she held a gun to his head. "Was that your idea, or the father's idea?" She questioned, though Carmen caught his gaze once more. "Speaking of, have you noticed the whole board and the Don are all missing?" It was setting off alarm bells in her head, and she couldn't fight the feeling that this was turning into some kind of trap. "Oh, I know all about your fondness for Francesca." Carmen had seen Donovan strung along by the middle Donatelli sister for a while now, and she didn't like it. "Just be careful, Donovan. I don't want to see you get hurt by this damn family."

Donovan accepted the champagne with an easy grin, taking a casual sip before turning his gaze to Carmen, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, well, you see—my beloved fiancé decided a well-timed tantrum was in order after the meeting.” He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if the whole thing was simply exhausting. “Ran off on some ‘much-needed vacation’ to clear her head, or whatever excuse makes her feel better about sulking.” He cast a glance around the room, unbothered by the tension lingering in the air, then shot Carmen a knowing look. “Figured showing up with a Donatelli at my side would be a sign of good faith, even if my future spouse is off pouting somewhere.” A smirk tugged at his lips as he swirled the champagne in his glass. “Besides, I have a certain fondness for the middle sister. She’s got a good head on her shoulders—and I've known her for years. It felt appropriate.” His fondness went beyond just that but the complexity of their relationship would take the whole evening to explain.

[alessandradonatelli]

WHO: Gio Barone @gaucheried LOCATION: Floral Shop

The Family had taken such an unimaginable hit. How could four of their board members plus all their bodyguards be wiped out like that? And right under everyone's noses? But more than that, half the founding family members were also mourning the loss of their family members. The Donatelli family was grieving, and Alessandra was weighed down every hour of the day by both grief and the loss of her father dying in such a horrendous way. Despite being a strict, old-fashioned man, Alessandra had loved her father and he had been a good father to her and her sisters. Her mother was a mess and her oldest sister was stepping up to take care of family business, so Alessandra was left to do what she could to help out her family. And picking out the floral arrangements for the upcoming funeral was something she could do. As she stood there waiting for the florist to finish with the person in front of her, she caught sight of a familiar face. "Gio." She greeted. Like most others, she knew of the... cruelty that had been prevalent in the Barone family. It had been the unspoken truth in the Family. So she wasn't sure if Gio was grieving for the loss of Arlo like she was her own father. "How are you doing with... everything?"

[alessandradonatelli]

WHO: Francesca Donatelli @tornethics LOCATION: Donatelli Estate

Alessandra had to step out of the room as her eldest sister and her mother started to argue over what to do with her father's body. The investigation was going to delay things, and her mom wanted to cremate him while her sister didn't agree. It had been too much, this nightmare that she wasn't going to wake up from. The guilt was the worst of it though. Knowing that when she had run off to Brazil to have her little tantrum, their father hadn't been giving her space but instead had been missing. She could have been here, looking or doing something, being one of the voices saying that this wasn't normal. But she'd been off in blissful ignorance and now it was too late. He was dead and she could never make it up to him. Burying her head in her hands, Alessandra let the tears that didn't seem to stop these past few days flow. Hearing footsteps by the door, Alessandra lifted her head and felt the tears flow more at the sight of her sister. "He wasn't okay." She croaked out.

[gaucheried]

his grief, like most things, was something he had no control over, diluted by the levity he'd learned to arm himself with through most of his life. his feelings towards his father were complicated—he wasn't reared by the same cruel hand that his cousins were under the roof of the don, but it was a similar flavor of brutality. questions like the one alessandra had extended towards him leave him feeling... inadequate. like he should be more upset, and he isn't, he's playing games on his phone while waiting for the shop assistant to give him a receipt like he's waiting for a coffee order, not flowers for his father's funeral.

gio pauses his game and gives alessandra a single, perfunctory not, chin jutting upwards in casual greeting. "oh, hey, 'sup." he perches an elbow on the counter, turning towards alessandra. "i'm good. you good?" he glances back towards the people at the counter, the door to the office opening and closing as orders are fulfilled. birthdays and special events and anniversaries and deaths made more sincere just because somebody invented the idea of involving flowers a million years ago and made an entire industry out of it. you truly can make money out of anything. "crazy stuff, huh? were you there? at the party?"

WHO: Gio Barone @gaucheried LOCATION: Floral Shop

The Family had taken such an unimaginable hit. How could four of their board members plus all their bodyguards be wiped out like that? And right under everyone's noses? But more than that, half the founding family members were also mourning the loss of their family members. The Donatelli family was grieving, and Alessandra was weighed down every hour of the day by both grief and the loss of her father dying in such a horrendous way. Despite being a strict, old-fashioned man, Alessandra had loved her father and he had been a good father to her and her sisters. Her mother was a mess and her oldest sister was stepping up to take care of family business, so Alessandra was left to do what she could to help out her family. And picking out the floral arrangements for the upcoming funeral was something she could do. As she stood there waiting for the florist to finish with the person in front of her, she caught sight of a familiar face. "Gio." She greeted. Like most others, she knew of the... cruelty that had been prevalent in the Barone family. It had been the unspoken truth in the Family. So she wasn't sure if Gio was grieving for the loss of Arlo like she was her own father. "How are you doing with... everything?"

[tornethics]

Francesca squeezed her sister’s arm, forcing a smile, even though the worry was thick in her chest. “I didn’t want to upset you, Alessandra,” she said softly, her voice a little unsteady. “I thought maybe... maybe he was just caught up in the preparations for the gala. He’s always so focused before these events. I didn’t think it would be anything serious.” It was hard to admit that she hadn't seen the signs in the beginning. Their father was a busy man, and it wasn't like Francesca was in constant communication with him. She looked over at her mother, who was still searching, though her face was a portrait of concern. “Mom’s doing everything she can to find him. I know she’s worried, too. But... I keep telling myself there has to be a reasonable explanation. He’s not... he’s not the kind to disappear without a word. I’m sure there’s a simple reason. Maybe he’s just trying to get everything ready for the gala. You know how he is—his mind’s always in a million places at once.” Francesca gave her sister a small but hopeful smile, her eyes full of determination despite the uncertainty. “He’s probably just busy with something that he can’t tell us about yet We’ll keep looking. We’ll figure it out. He’ll turn up, I know it.” She gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze.

When Alessandra came back from Brazil, two of the last things she had expected was her father to be missing, along with the rest of the board, and for her sister to be on the arm of the man her father had ordered her to marry before she left. She had to admit, that while her father had dropped hints of her one day marrying for political alliance, there had been no real word of it and so she had never imagined it would have happened. But then he had pulled her into that meeting and there on the other side of the table was the man she had been ordered to marry, the one her father had promised her to. It'd been too much, so Alessandra had told her father she needed time and took the family jet to Brazil. For weeks she hadn't heard from her father, but she thought he'd been giving her time, they both knew she'd do what he wanted in the end. She'd come back in time for the yearly charity event of The Family, and had come back to chaos. "Rio de Janeiro." Alessandra told her sister, returning the kiss on each cheek and slipping her arm through her sister's. "Why did no tell me dad was missing?"

[tornethics]

Francesca stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, her heart breaking at the sight of her younger sister, so fragile and broken in that moment. She hated seeing Alessandra like this—her eyes red and swollen from crying, her shoulders shaking with the weight of a grief neither of them were ready for. But she was there now, and she was going to be there for her, no matter what. She stepped inside and knelt beside Alessandra, her hand gently finding her sister's back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles. "Alessandra, listen to me," Francesca said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "You couldn't have known. You couldn't have... I should've known too." She swallowed hard, guilt crashing over her like a wave. "But we didn’t. And we can't change that now. What we can do is be here for each other. You’re not alone in this, okay?" Her voice wavered, but she steadied herself. She’d always felt responsible for her sisters, but this... this was a different kind of weight. Seeing their father in that state was traumatizing, and it was something they wouldn’t get over for a long time. But they had each other.

WHO: Francesca Donatelli @tornethics LOCATION: Donatelli Estate

Alessandra had to step out of the room as her eldest sister and her mother started to argue over what to do with her father's body. The investigation was going to delay things, and her mom wanted to cremate him while her sister didn't agree. It had been too much, this nightmare that she wasn't going to wake up from. The guilt was the worst of it though. Knowing that when she had run off to Brazil to have her little tantrum, their father hadn't been giving her space but instead had been missing. She could have been here, looking or doing something, being one of the voices saying that this wasn't normal. But she'd been off in blissful ignorance and now it was too late. He was dead and she could never make it up to him. Burying her head in her hands, Alessandra let the tears that didn't seem to stop these past few days flow. Hearing footsteps by the door, Alessandra lifted her head and felt the tears flow more at the sight of her sister. "He wasn't okay." She croaked out.