Robert P.O.V Her lips parted and then her legs spread. “Stick out your tongue,” I ordered as I fisted my cock. The sight of her naked body below me, open and wet, is a power like I have never felt. She was ready for me to enter whichever hole I chose, and I had to squeeze my dick to keep from cumming at the sight of it. The inside of her pussy lips is pink and shiny from her desire, and I watched as she rocked her hips in invitation. Fucking hell. “Such a greedy little pussy.” Her eyes met mine as I jacked my cock in front of her face. “You can not wait to be fucked ,do you? Such a good little slut let me fuck this holes whenever I want, however I want.” The sound she made went straight to my dick, and I groaned as cum leaked from the tip. It dripped onto her waiting tongue, and the sight of it was almost enough to make me blow my load. “Swallow it,” I managed to choke out. I let go of my cock and reached between her legs. “I need some lube.” “Robert,” she moans when I thrusted
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
Riccardo P.O.V Dinner with Callandria was a quiet affair. We were both locked in our own thoughts, wrestling with our own minds. When she said she will do it I thought her agreement would satisfy me, yet victory feels hollow and empty. "Here." I slid my phone across the table to her once we had both finished eating. "You should call your grandfather, bella. He wants to know you are safe and that you are here because you want to be." She eyed the phone for a long, silent moment and then reluctantly picks it up. "2008 is the lock code." "The year I was born," she murmured. And the year Nico left the family. "You trust me with your lock code." "I offered you freedom, Callandria. It wasn't a lie," I said ,holding her gaze. "Until things are settled, you are not to leave the house or have contact with your family. Those rules are for your safety as much as for theirs. But I am not your captor. You are not my prisoner. You are going to be the mother of my child." "My grandfather wo
Callandria P.O.V "I am ready," I told Alessio less than a minute later, stepping out of the bedroom. He led me down the hallway. Unlike my father's house, Riccardo's was not built like a museum to wealth. It was timeless and beautiful. Dark wood panels line the walls, with ornately carved banisters and balustrades. Instead of a chandelier, a crystal dome over the staircase floods the foyer with natural light. We passed through the living room, decorated more for comfort than to impress. A large fireplace and sectional dominate the room, with bookcases lining one wall. Massive doors lead out to a patio and a rolling green lawn. "Kitchen," Alessio said, standing to the side to let me pass. I stepped inside and then stopped to stare. The entire kitchen was made from stone, with a cobblestone floor and gorgeous dark wood cabinets. Appliances rest in arched alcoves. Windows look out over the lawn. It was breathtaking, like stepping straight into Tuscany. "Wow," I whispered. No won
Riccardo P.O.V By the time we pulled up by the dock at the harbor, Dant was already there. He leans against the side of his Harley, skipping pebbles across the water. He did not even glance over his shoulder to see who pulled up. I did not think my youngest brother gave a fuck anymore. He tried for years to keep us together, but this way of life wears on you. By the time he had his accident a few years ago, he was not the same kid who spoke the vow. He is harder. Darker. We rarely see him unless he has no choice. I think he would have walked away from all of it if he could. Hell, which of us wouldn't? This life only brought us misery . We lost those we have loved and lived with our enemies. "You are early," I observed, striding across the dock toward him. "You are late." He lets another rock fly. It skipped three times before sinking, dragged to the bottom to rest alongside decades worth of evidence of La Cosa Nostra crimes. Merda. Ours were not the only secrets this harbor keeps
Dant P.O.V“You live here?" Genesis eyed me skeptically, her arms crossed over her chest and her brows furrowed as she glanced around my living room."Yes. Surprised?" I arched a brow, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike my brothers and sister, I did not live in a house large enough to fit an army. My place was an old greystone in Bridgeport...as fucking far from Robert as I can get without encroaching on territory that did not belong to the DiFronzo family.Once upon a time, the house belonged to my mom's parents. I was not sure any of my brothers knew that. I never told them. Did not see a point when they had lived with our mom's ghost for so long already. Sometimes, ignorance is preferable to pain.Me though? I barely remember her. Not the color of her eyes, or the way she smiled. Not the sound of her laugh, or the warmth of her hugs. I was four and Lily was three when she died, barely old enough to spell out our own goddamn name. Any memories I had of her were eras
Genesis P.O.V"Not yet." His smile did not reach his eyes. I did not think he had smiled in a long time. But they glint with some emotion that makes me shiver. I did not know what it was. "You will.”"Never."His smile widened. "You are coming to work for me." Is he insane? He found me taking out his cash and nowhere wanted me to come and work for him."I have a job.""Not anymore. As of this moment, you work for me, tesoro. Or..." He lets the threat linger unspoken. I know what he meant though. Or he would call the police and we let the chips fall where they may. I think he knew I could not take that risk, though. The bastard knows he was not really giving me a choice here.I think he loves knowing I have no choice and no say. I am his to command, his to control and I hated it but I have no other choice.He was a six-foot-three lion. And I think I may be the little lamb to the slaughter."Fine," I growled, giving in about as gracefully as a bull in a china shop."But I am not for sal
Genesis P.O.VThe elevator glided to a stop on the top floor. The doors slid open, revealing the sort of ostentatious wealth that made my stomach hurt. You know, the kind that could feed half the world, but is spent building glass castles like this for despotic kings instead.The kings who worked from this glass castle are rumored to be some of the worst. They are mafia, Made men. The entire city loses sleep over them and their whims. Yet I never have. When you are trying to survive the devil you know, it was hard to care about the devils you did not.I dragged my bucket off the elevator and set to work emptying the trash. It took all of five minutes to clean up after the reception staff. Two of the executive offices are spotless, as if they were rarely used. The desks held no personal items, nothing to give any hint about the men who worked within.I finished straightening them quickly and moved to the third.A masculine, woodsy scent wafted through the open doors, enveloping me in i
Callandria P.O.V "What do you want from me?" I cried out, my stomach clenching at the look in his eyes, as if he has never been more serious in his life. He meant every word. I might be here for a reason, but he wants me for and that scared me and did not scare me nearly enough at the same time. I expected him to give me the same no-answers he had been giving me, but he did not. He surprised me this time. He gave me the truth. At least, some version of it. "I want you to help me stop a war, Callandria," he said, sitting back in his chair. "Your father started something that may very well destroy us all. I need you to help me stop it." My stomach trembles as the pieces begin to connect in my mind. I did not need him to spell it out for me. I know exactly what he was asking of me. And yet...and yet I wanted to hear him say it anyway. "Tell me," I said. "I want you to give me an heir." He held my gaze, unflinching. "In exchange, you will have your freedom. Whatever marriage con
Callandria P.O.V Everyone has it wrong. Robert DiFronzo was not the devil. Riccardo is. I paced around the luxurious bathroom, muttering under my breath like a crazy person as I made the same circuit across the stone tile. I had already used the bathroom, checked the window, and scoured the shelves for a weapon. There was not anything of use. There was not even a bottle of cologne I could spray in his eyes to blind him. I was in no hurry to return to captivity. I even took a quick shower and stole a toothbrush from beneath the sink to delay the inevitable. My heart still races. Dio. No one has ever spoken to me the way he does or touched me as if I belong to him. It infuriates me and makes my blood run hot at the exact same time. I was so caught up in cursing him out that I didn't hear him approaching. The sharp rapping against the bathroom door made me jump, and my heart thudded against my ribcage, rattling my nerves. "I brought you something to wear," he said. "Would you like
Riccardo P.O.V My phone rings,vibrating across the countertop. I dipped my head under the water to rinse the soap out of it, turn the water off, and stepped from the shower to grab a towel. Steam swirls around me, fogging up the bathroom. "Merda," (Shit) I muttered under my breath when Robert's name flashed across the display. Whatever he has to say, I am almost positive I do not want to hear it, but I swipe to answer anyway. "You have Callandria Castellano chained to your bed?" he growled. "What the fuck are you and Mattia thinking?" "You are the one who decided to deliver a pile of bodies to Emilio Castellano's doorstep," I reminded him. "Mattia could not just leave her there after she spotted them.” "So you chained her to your bed?" he growled, his voice deadly quiet. Robert does not yell. He rarely ever raised his voice. When you are the king, you do not have to shout to be heard. People listen even if you fucking whisper. "God, Riccardo. Think! She is a principessa, not some