“Rule No. 1 – sex is off the table” He looked at me, a certain darkness clouding his eyes that only brewed lust and desire “Don't worry doll, I'm not going to touch you, not unless you beg me to” Five years ago, Helena De Luca is divorced by her husband, Dante D'angelo, when his high school sweetheart returned and claimed his heart. Now, Helena’s back, not for rekindled romance but for survival. Her family's empire is under siege, and the only way to protect it is to strike a dangerous deal with the man she once called her own. Dante agrees to help—but there's only one way: a fake marriage. Helena's reluctance turns to desperation when the rival gangs close in, forcing her to accept. She sets one rule—no falling in love. The stakes are high and complications arise in the form of Dante's manipulative cousin Matteo, who's determined to tear them apart to have Helena for himself no matter what it takes. To make matters worse, Dante’s first love is back, determined to destroy Helena's life and claim Dante for herself. Their worlds entangle, a dark sinful attraction festering between Dante and Helena and getting caught in a dirty game of lust, dark desires tainted with betrayal and manipulation. Would Helena be able to withstand the demands of falling for a man as dangerous or would she give in to the pressures of those who want them apart?
View MoreChapter: The Weight of Leaving“Leave?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. The word tasted foreign on my tongue. “What do you mean, leave?”Matteo stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the dim light filtering in from the living room. His expression was guarded, but I could see the tension in the way his hand repeatedly ran through his hair. “It’s not safe here anymore. Not for us. Not for Ava. The leaks, the attempts on my life… it’s escalating. There’s someone behind it, and I don’t think this is a war I’m ready to take. Not anymore.” He paused, his voice softening. “Especially now that I have people to consider—you and Ava.”The words hung in the air like a weight pressing down on my chest. I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter for support, feeling as though the ground beneath me had shifted. “Matteo, this is our home,” I said, my voice cracking. “It’s Ava’s home. We can’t just—”“We can,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not cruel. His dark eyes locked
HELENA’S POVFEW YEARS LATERIt was more than two years later, and I was still married to Matteo D’angelo, in fact we had a little girl now – Ava D’angelo and she was a splitting image of her father, they had the same piercing look, beautiful clear blue eyes but at least she had my hair.It was almost peaceful these past years, although I spent half of it looking over my shoulder thinking someone was going to sneak up behind me and press a cold hard pistol to my back, of course that never happened, apart from the few hiccups with the cartel and the company which by the way Matteo shielded me from – like I said it was almost peaceful but I could feel it in the air, like a smoke without fire, something was brewing and I could sense it. Matteo seemed more tense than usual, sometimes he went to bed still fully clothed, he mumbled in his sleep which wasn’t unusual but this time was different, he kept saying a name – Venza.The sky was a soft watercolor of blues and whites, with the occasio
Leadership wasn’t something you chose—it was something thrust upon you. After Dante’s death, it became clear who the next king of Algreen Cove was. The whispers had already started during the wedding reception, even as the gunfire echoed and the blood of Dante's last ploy stained the marble floors.Paulo had made his stance clear long ago. “I’m not cut out to lead,” he’d told me. And I believed him. Paulo was loyal, ruthless when necessary, and dependable in the trenches, but he didn’t have the vision or the temperament to run the cartel. That left the mantle of leadership squarely on my shoulders, a weight I had carried before I even realized I was strong enough to bear it.Two days had passed since the wedding. Two days of waking up beside Helena, the woman who had brought light back into my life in ways I hadn’t thought possible. She was mine now—my wife, the mother of the child growing inside her. I had her in my arms every morning, her soft brown eyes meeting mine as sunlight spi
HELENA’S POVA month later, it was my wedding day—a day I once thought I’d never experience again. Yet here I was, standing in the grand chapel with its towering stone walls, ancient wooden pews, and arched ceilings that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. The air was thick with the scent of lilies, and the soft hum of the organ echoed through the sacred space.Despite the joy and the wealth surrounding me, the past weeks had been tense. Every moment felt borrowed, every shadow held the potential for danger. Dante’s ghost lingered, not in whispers or memories, but in the palpable fear that someone, somewhere, was still following his orders. And yet, amidst it all, Matteo remained steadfast, his presence like a beacon guiding me through the storm.The flowing wedding dress hugged my body, a delicate lace overlay cascading down to the floor. Pearls lined my hair, glimmering like tiny moons against the soft waves. My hand instinctively rested on my abdomen, where a barely-there bump he
Two weeks passed since the night I stared at that little plus sign, and my world tilted on its axis. I'd managed to keep it to myself, burying the secret beneath a mask of normalcy. But today, as I stood in Vivianna’s hospital room, staring at her tiny, pink-faced daughter lying peacefully in the cot, I felt the weight of my silence crushing me.The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I think I’m pregnant.”Vivianna whipped her head around, eyes wide in disbelief. “What do you mean you think you’re pregnant?”I sighed, wringing my hands together. “I am pregnant.”“For Dante?” she asked, her voice sharp and her gaze piercing.“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Matteo.”The name felt fragile in my mouth, as if saying it out loud might shatter something. Vivianna’s shock melted into something softer, though her brows still knit together.“And you ended things with him again because...?”“It’s complicated,” I said, pacing the room on quiet, restless steps. “Do you think
HELENA’S POVThe letter felt heavier in my trembling hands than it had any right to. I unfolded it slowly, the familiar scent of Dante—smoky, musky, and utterly suffocating—seeping out from the paper as if he had intended for it to linger. His handwriting sprawled across the page in bold, unapologetic strokes, commanding attention even in death.Helena,If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead.Congratulations. Or condolences. Whichever fits your mood better. If it’s Matteo who pulled the trigger—or ordered it—then he’s as much a fool as I’ve always thought him to be. But don’t think for a second that my death gives you freedom. You’ll never have freedom, not from me.Do you really think I’d allow you to be with him? Not in life, and certainly not in death. No, my darling, I’ve thought this through. I’ve ensured that if you ever dare to pursue a life with Matteo, there will be consequences. Dead men don’t just roll over, Helena, especially not me.I hired someone—a shadow, let’s call
HELENA’S POVThe city felt strange tonight—unusually quiet, like it knew what had happened. Even as I drove down the winding streets, tears streaking my face and my dress stiff with Dante’s blood, there was a hush that sat heavy in the air. It wasn’t peaceful, though. No, it was eerie, like the city itself mourned the life that had been snuffed out.Paulo had insisted I leave the hospital, promising me that Matteo would pull through. “Go home, rest,” he had said. “He’s going to be fine, I promise.”I wanted to believe him. I had to believe him.But Dante was dead. That fact alone had unraveled me.The man who had once held my heart so effortlessly and crushed it just as easily was gone. Dead. It didn’t feel real. He was larger than life, impossible to defeat, and yet, I’d seen his body sprawled on the ground. Despite everything he’d done—every cruel, merciless act—I couldn’t stop the ache that pulsed in my chest. A life had been lost, and no amount of hatred could erase the part of me
HELENA’S POVThe world had gone silent around me. My ears rang with the deafening echo of the gunshot, but my mind refused to process it. I crumpled to the floor, the weight of dread pinning me down. I couldn’t open my eyes. I didn’t want to.What if he was gone?What if Dante had finally done it?My heart pounded erratically, each beat clawing at my ribs as if it wanted to burst free. Somewhere in the haze, I expected Dante’s taunting voice—his self-assured arrogance slicing through the tension like it always did. But there was nothing. Just an eerie, suffocating quiet.My hands trembled as I forced my eyes open, and when I did, the sight before me turned my blood to ice.Dante was sprawled on the ground, a crimson pool spreading beneath him, staining the earth like a macabre halo. His lifeless eyes stared at nothing, the usual malice in them extinguished. I blinked rapidly, trying to piece together what I was seeing.“W-What…” My voice cracked as I struggled to comprehend.Then I sa
MATTEO’S POVHelena didn’t look back.She gave me a single glance as she stepped through the grand entrance of the masked ball, her red dress shimmering under the low lights like spilled wine. It was a glance meant to reassure, but all it did was tighten the knot in my stomach. As she disappeared into the crowd, I stayed behind, lingering by the car, letting the cool night air ground me.There was a heaviness to the night, a thickness in the air that clung to my skin like smoke. People filed into the hall, their laughter and idle chatter masking the tension beneath their ornate feathers and flashy masks. They came here to escape, to lose themselves in the decadence and mystery of the night.But I had no intention of hiding.My mask was a reflection of who I truly was—dark, daunting, and utterly unafraid. It wasn’t meant to conceal but to intimidate, to remind anyone who dared look too long that I wasn’t here to play their games. I was here for one thing, and one thing only.To kill Da
HELENA’S POVI lay on the vast expanse of the bed, the silky sheets embracing my body with the soft tenderness that I craved from Dante, my husband. I could hear the metallic ticking of clock, each tick reminding me of every second that passed and Dante wasn’t still home. I tried to ignore the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains. I couldn’t sleep, if I didn’t feel the warmth emanating from his body while he slept beside me, the weight of his body pressed upon my fragileness while he pumped his load inside me.Tonight, the emptiness of our bed felt particularly suffocating. I had yearned for his presence all day, a deep longing that gnawed at my soul. As I lay there, the sound of the door opening made my heart race. As I turned my head, there he was, the silhouette of my husband – Dante D’angelo watching me silently from the door. His strong muscular arms were flexing without him even trying to do so and I took a nervous gulp while my insides burned with desire – a desire th...
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