Robert P.O.VI walked into the kitchen and saw Lily, my little sister, kneading dough at the counter, her apron dusted with flour. She looked up and smiled when she saw me enter.“Hey, big brother,” she said, her tone playful.I leaned down, giving her a side hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. "What are you making this time?" I asked, peeking over her shoulder.“Just some bread for lunch. Thought I would try out a new recipe.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Not that anyone here will complain about carbs.” My little sister has had us wrapped around her little finger since we were kids.I smirked, giving her a light squeeze before stepping back. “You know we will eat whatever you make. It is good to have you home, Lil.”She glanced at me, her eyes softening. “It is good to have you back too. But you look tired. Long day?”“Something like that,” I replied, brushing it off. I tucked the hair strand behind her ear that had fallen down.“Gonna take a shower before lunch.”With that, I
Robert P.O.VThe metal door to the interrogation room swung open with a sharp creak, and I was led inside by two officers, their hands gripping my arms. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and cigarette smoke. They shoved me down into a cold, metal chair, my hands still bound by cuffs, clinking as they hit the table in front of me.I leaned forward slightly, resting my joined hands on the table, assessing the situation with calm detachment. Across from me, two detectives, Carter and Reynolds, sat down. Their eyes were sharp, eager, like vultures circling prey. I did not give them anything—my face remained impassive, unreadable.Carter started first, his voice low and calculated. “So, DiFronzo. You know why you are here. Why do not we make this easy and—”I said nothing, staring at him with the same coldness. I could see the frustration flicker behind his eyes, but he pressed on, leaning forward as if he was trying to intimidate me.“Let’s not play game
Nora P.O.VI was sitting in the surveillance room, staring at the monitor as the interrogation unfolded. Robert DiFronzo sat across from the two detectives, he had a cool and calculating look in his eyes. He had not said a word since they brought him in. His hands were cuffed, but his posture was relaxed, like this was just another business meeting for him. We could hear what they were saying through the mic hidden in the corner of the room.The detectives were trying hard, throwing accusation after accusation at him, pushing for some kind of crack in his armour. But Robert was unfazed. He sat there, silently, like a rock in the storm. His expression gave away nothing, not even a flicker of fear or guilt.“He is toying with them,” I muttered under my breath.My senior, Detective Harrison, was sitting beside me. He’d been in the game for years, seen things that would make most people walk away from this job. But today, he looked as frustrated as I felt.“He knows we do not have any sol
Nora P.O.VI stopped my car just outside the mansion, its towering iron gates looming ahead. One of DiFronzo’s men with broad-shouldered, face concealed behind a pair of dark aviator glasses approached. I handed over the fake ID, my heart pounding beneath my calm exterior. Without a word, he took my ID and placed it on the scanner. A green light cast on the ID and moved down.“The ID is successfully matched,” a mechanical voice chimed from the gate’s scanner.I exhaled slowly as the gates began to creak open,their heavy iron frames creaking as they revealed the sprawling estate beyond. The DiFronzo mansion was more than just a home—it was a fortress. A long stretch of well-manicured gardens and stone paths led to the grand entrance, its sheer size and opulence unmistakable.I drove inside, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I looked down at the ID on the driving seat, my mind flashed back to Cyber’s word.“Take this,” Cyber had said, handing me the fake ID, passport, and driver’s lic
Nora P.O.VMy gaze landed on the table of weapons again. I needed to choose carefully for this round. The knife had served me well, but against their best, I would need something faster, something that would give me an edge. My fingers hovered over a pair of brass knuckles before I picked them up, the cold metal biting into my skin. This would work for me.As I strapped the knuckles onto my hands, I watched as the others armed themselves. Some chose heavier weapons but I knew that strength alone would not get me through this.“Begin,” Riccardo ordered, and chaos erupted.The first wave of attackers was swift. DiFronzo’s men, hulking masses of muscle and aggression, moved like well-trained wolves, picking their targets and attacking with precision. The room filled with the clang of steel, grunts of effort, and the occasional sharp crack of bones breaking. I ducked low, dodging a swing aimed at my head. The man who had targeted me was fast, but his aggression made him sloppy.He came at
Robert P.O.VI sat behind my desk, the dim light casting shadows across the room as I sifted through the files of the final five candidates.My men had done well. The candidates were battle-hardened, skilled, and ruthless. But there was something odd about Riccardo, my second-in-command today. He had been hovering near me all evening. His posture tense, his face a mask of uncertainty, but I could tell there was something on his mind. He was not one to hesitate, especially not with me.I closed the file I had been reading and looked up at him. “Spit it out, Riccardo.”He shifted, clearly weighing his words. “It is probably nothing but…”“But?” I urged him to continue.“It is one of the candidates.Her name is Patricia Walker.” I frowned. Her name was not particularly ringing for me. “She has lower experience compared to the others, but...” he hesitated, as if unsure how to explain what was troubling him. ““But what? Just say it.” I prompted, leaning back in my chair, curiosity piqued.
Nora P.O.VThe maid led me down a long, winding hallway to my room. My body ached from the fight, muscles sore from the strain of the interview. I was not expecting to feel this level of exhaustion so soon. When she stopped in front of the door, I could only hope for some relief on the other side.She turned the brass handle and pushed it open. “This is your room,” she said quietly before stepping aside to let me pass.The room was bigger than I expected. The floors were dark hardwood, polished to a shine, while the walls were painted a deep, warm grey giving it a modern yet luxurious look. A massive king-size bed sat in the centre, the black iron frame sleek and elegant. The bedding was crisp white, contrasting sharply against the dark tones of the room. Pillows were arranged neatly, and a thick black comforter was draped across the bottom of the bed. Two nightstands flanked it, each adorned with sleek silver lamps. A plush armchair sat in the corner by a tall window, the soft light o
Nora P.O.VFlashback begins….At night of abduction The club was packed, the bass of the music thumping through the walls and into my chest.My leather jacket and jeans helped me blend in, disappear into the mass of bodies that swayed and pulsed with the rhythm. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and the underlying tension of the fights that raged in the back rooms. It was a breeding ground for chaos.Patricia was not hard to spot. She sat at the bar, leaning casually against the counter, her drink nearly drained. It seems like she had just finished her fight.Her leather jacket clung to her frame, the tough exterior matching her ‘I do not give a shit’ attitude. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked like a person who screams like if you fuck with me I will fuck you up.I slid onto a stool a few seats away from her, ordered a drink, and let my eyes roam casually around the room. I did not need to draw any attention to myself. The bartender handed me my drink, and
December P.O.V "You do that," he said, humor in his voice. "In the meantime, care to tell me why you are on my doorstep at midnight?" "Yes. No." I pressed a hand to my forehead when he frowned at me. He was half naked and I was spiraling. "I mean, I have a reason but maybe this is a bad idea. My issues are not your issues, and I should not even be here right now. Um, I should just go. Sorry for bothering you." I turned to do just that, suddenly afraid he would call the police himself. And then where will that leave me? D-E-A-D dead. Or arrested for assaulting him and a slew of other crimes I committed before landing on his doorstep. Some of which, I am ashamed to admit, I committed before I saw his brother off someone. "December, wait." He grabbed my arm before I could slip away. As soon as he touched me. I nearly lost my footing on the slick stoop. He cursed beneath his breath and grabbed me around the waist, pulling toward his body to prevent me from crashing to the cement. I
December P.O.V “I should not be here," I whispered to myself, fidgeting from foot to foot. I glanced over my shoulder, peering into the shadows. Nothing moved. If anyone followed me, they were keeping themselves hidden. My heart pounded like a drum anyway, sending anxiety churning through me with every heavy beat. The wind rustled through the trees, stirring leaves all up and down the dark block and blowing cold rain into my face. I pulled my coat tightly around me, shivering as my heart jumped up to my throat. And then I huffed at myself for being afraid of the frigid wind blowing in from the lake. I could not help it though. Approximately forty eight hours ago, I saw someone die. No, that is not right. I saw Robert DiFronzo, the biggest mobster in Chicago, kill a man and then drop his body into the river. When I heard the shot, like an idiot, I screamed. He saw me. I know he saw me. I have been running ever since, terrified he was going to come after me,find and end my life th
Callandria P.O.V "Ah," he says quietly, his smirk growing as he pushes the door slowly closed.The quiet click as the latch catched made me flinch. "So you heard what we were saying outside.” "You mean I heard you saying you were going to deal with me?" I demanded, inching closer to the nightstand as if it offers even an ounce of protection. It did not. But I would rather be standing my ground in front of it than beside the luxurious bed. "I swear I would not be easy to deal with, Riccardo DiFronzo." I glared in fury, refusing to show him just how terrified I am. I am a principessa. If he is going to kill me, I will die on my own two feets, screaming defiance. "No?" His smirk turned mocking, his expression hardening. "You are chained to my bed, principessa. Seems easy enough to me." Oh, I hate him. He is exactly like my father. A monster. "Does that make you feel powerful?" I snapped. "Is that what you enjoy? Taking helpless women against their wills?" I run my gaze up and down h
Callandria P.O.V I tossed my phone on my bed, cinching my robe tightly around my waist. It was after three in the morning, but sleep eludes me like usual. This house was too much like a prison. I might be free to come and go as I please, but I was in shackles, nonetheless. They locked into place around my ankles before I was even born. It comes with the territory when you are a Castellano. My grandfather, Tommaso, was one of the most infamous drug lords in Chicago. My father , Mark Castellano was in just as deep as he was. So was my older brother. The fact that I was female did not spare me. If anything, it bounded me even tighter. I may not have taken the vow of Omertà like they did, but I am no freer than my brother, Marcello. I was a principessa. Every moment of my life has been carefully mapped out and planned. I huffed at the reminder, casting a longing glance toward the window.How many times have I wished to climb out of it and disappear into the night? Too many to count. U
Robert P.O.V The crowd at the Chicago Grand Prix continued its rhythmic hum as I moved toward the exit. Castellano was already making his way out, his entourage trailing like obedient shadows. He walked with that same overconfident stride, the same smugness that made my fingers itch to wipe it off his face. He had no idea that this would be the last night he had ever walked so freely. Patricia’s voice echoed in my head as I strode through the crowd, the concern in her tone lingering. She had grown closer to me in a short period of time. I knew everything she did for Lily, though she lied because my sister asked her to,her loyalty still stood with us. She saved Lily's life several times. I just let her go away with lying does not mean I take betrayal kindly. Making her as my bodyguard was a way to keep an eye on her. I did not know what but something felt familiar about her. Patricia did not follow me immediately, but I knew she would. She was not the type to let things go unanswere
Robert P.O.V The crowd at the Chicago Grand Prix buzzed with excitement, their energy matching the roar of engines that reverberated through the night air. The city’s elite had gathered, dressed to impress, sipping on champagne, their conversations blending into the symphony of wealth and ambition. Everyone here was focused on the race, eyes fixed on the track, hearts pounding with the thrill of competition. But mine fixed on someone else. Waiting for someone who has been dancing away from my hold for too long. The race was nothing more than background noise. I was here for only one reason, one that had nothing to do with fast cars or status. Mark Castellano was supposed to be here tonight, and I am waiting for him here like Hades himself waiting for him to take him to my hell. He thought he could double cross me, that he could betray me and my operations and vanish into thin air without any consequences. He was wrong. I stood near the edge of the VIP section, my gaze fixed on the
Nora P.O.V I stepped into the adjacent VIP lounge, my pulse was as steady as possible at that time. I kept my senses on high alert. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the same tension that accompanied every clandestine meeting in this part of the world. The men barely glanced at me as I entered. For them I was just another waitress, a faceless figure delivering drinks and blending into the background. I placed the tray on the table with a grace that a waitress can only emit, keeping my eyes lowered, feigning the air of someone disinterested in anything but her task. That surely became problematic because of the heels .The men were focused on their conversation, and for a brief moment, I was invisible to them which was helpful. “… no loose ends. We need those records gone by the end of the week,” one of the men, a burly figure with a scar running down his cheek, said in a gruff voice.“He has been in jail for too long. If the records are not wiped clean, it would not matter i
Nora P.O.V The underground street race pulsed with energy. The crowd was a writhing mass of adrenaline and excitement, packed shoulder to shoulder in the smoky, dimly lit warehouse. The roar of engines reverberated off the concrete walls, blending with the shouting of spectators, the pounding bass of the music, and the clinking of glasses. I walked a step behind Robert, flanked by Matteo and Lorenzo, two of his trusted men. We moved through the chaos toward the VIP lounge, a secluded balcony overlooking the track, where only the powerful, the dangerous, and the wealthy gathered. Robert’s presence commanded attention, but he carried himself with calm indifference, his face a mask of control. We entered the lounge, and it was a different world altogether. The noise from the race was muffled, replaced by the low hum of conversation, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Luxurious leather couches were arranged around the room, the air heavy with the scent of expensive cigars and perfu
Nora P.O.V The training room in the DiFronzo mansion was a blend of luxury in brutality. The walls were lined with weapon racks filled with an arsenal that could arm a small battalion. Swords, knives, firearms, and even archaic weapons gleamed under the dim lighting. The floor was a polished expanse of dark wood, scuffed in places from years of use, and the air carried the scent of sweat, leather, and metal. Most of the DiFronzo's members were already training when I came down here. I adjusted my stance, muscles coiled and ready, as I faced off against Marco, one of the DiFronzo family’s top enforcers. His broad frame loomed in front of me, a mountain of muscle and experience. But I was not intimidated. This was the third opponent I had faced today, and each victory had fueled my confidence. My heartbeat was steady, my breaths controlled. This was where I thrived, in the heat of a fight, where every movement was calculated, every strike a test of precision and power. Marco circled