Rosita’s POV My head throbbed with pain as I climbed down the stairs leading down to the kitchen. The once-familiar place felt surreal; memories of the day flooded my mind. I looked around the living room, there were no sign of the toxic smoke or the dons. The only people in the room were a few guards stationed in corners, watching like eagles. Just another day in this dangerous life, I thought, moving towards the kitchen. Abruptly, a guard called out to me, running over with a slightly flushed face. “I—I have been waiting for you, Señorita,” he said, handing me a bottle of medicine and a bottle of water. “The boss wanted you to have this.” I took it from him, confused by the pretty blush on his cheeks. Glancing down at myself, I suddenly realized why. I was only in my bra and panties, wearing just a light jacket over my body. Embarrassed, I quickly grabbed at the jacket, pulling it tighter against me. The guard’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he muttered, “Tak
Author's POV King Dante stood before the large window of his room; as night fell, the blue haze of day lifted to reveal bright stars. He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the warmth, but swiftly stopped as an unfamiliar taste hit his tongue. Frowning, he placed the golden cup down on the nightstand with a soft thud. The peace he sought was quickly interrupted by Ximena’s entry into the room. She walked in confidently, wearing a sexy wine-colored nightgown that left little to the imagination. A small black bag hung loosely in her hand, and as she approached him, Dante’s gaze traveled over her, drawn to the curves accentuated by the gown. “What’s in the bag?” he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows as she dropped it beside the bed without answering. “You will see,” she replied, circling around him and pressing herself against his back, her hands sliding down his chest. He felt an electric spark dance through him, a distraction he wasn’t quite prepared for. Dante closed his eyes m
Rosita's POV I yawned loudly as the morning sun streamed through my window blinds, squinting against the sudden brightness. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I pushed myself off the bed and made my way toward the door, curious about the muffled voices coming from the corridor. Leaning against the door, I spotted Deangelo and Hugo in a restless discussion in the middle of the bright hallway. There were dark circles beneath their eyes, a sign they hadn’t slept a wink since the funeral. Struggling to catch fragments of their conversation, I leaned in closer. “If the blood bank doesn’t want to sell it to us,” Deangelo was saying, his voice growing stronger, angrier. “I want you to do whatever it takes to rob that goddamn bank. I don’t care if it means you kill a lot of people; Silvia’s life depends on it.” Hugo tossed him a pained look. “If something happens to her, you don’t know what I will do...I have been trying to deny it for a long time now, but I fell in love with her after
Author's POV A large garbage truck drove into the junkyard, its big tires making a crunching noise on the driveway as the driver grunted, driving it to the dumping spot under the hot sun. The truck's gigantic container lifted, pouring out loads of trash on top of the already mountainous collection of waste. Romano, Vincenzo, and Fernando fell from the truck, landing hard onto the load of trash, the awful smell hitting them like a rock. Romano groaned, trying to shake the dizziness from his head, but as he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings—large piles of trash entering his nostrils—he couldn’t help but scream. Panic climbed up his throat as he tried to get away from the filth, shoving trash off himself and kicking the leftovers aside, but he tripped on something sticky, falling down the mountain and rolling awkwardly until he hit the concrete floor with a loud thud. Wincing at the sharp pain shooting through his body, he squinted up at the bright sun; a cloud of
Deangelo’s POV Her hand clamped on my wrist. Damn. After everything I just said? Although I didn't actually mean it. But those mesmerizing forest green eyes… They always got to me. I slowly sat down next to her on the soft bed. Too close. Way too close. I got a million nasty thoughts buzzing in my head, not least of which was keeping my hands to myself. She was my girlfriend now, but I wanted to do this right, I wanted to cherish her. But God, she wasn't making it easy, I needed to go and help Hugo, but... "Fuck it," I muttered, yanking my hand free from her grip. My eyes locked on her lips, those soft, rosy lips. "To be honest," I blurted, "You are a terrible kisser." She couldn't help herself as she burst out laughing, her cheeks warming. "That's...that's because you were my first kiss," she confessed, her voice lacking its usual fire, "I haven't kissed anyone before." First kiss? A wave of possessiveness, hot and sharp, churned beneath my skin. "Well then," I growled, l
Deangelo’s POV The full-face mask felt heavy, suffocating, but it was a necessary disguise. If I wanted to see my father, to make sure he was safe from Ximena’s schemes, staying anonymous was my only option. I stood still as a royal guard patted me down, his gloved hands unwelcome, taking away my weapons one after the other. He pulled out two handguns, a few knives—enough to make me feel naked—and tossed them on a nearby tray. The irony wasn’t lost on me: I was the ghost returned, the dead man walking, but I couldn't reveal my face; I had to remain a mystery. “Come with me,” the guard said, his voice empty of emotion. “The king is waiting for you inside.” Nostalgia threaded its way through my heartstrings as I passed the main door, walking through the luxurious halls of the castle where I’d once played as a child, a prince, a son. The extravagant living room bombarded me with memories—playing with my late mother, her soft laughter echoing in my ears. All I felt was a deep,
Author's POVStefano tossed and turned on the ice-cold floor of his old rundown mansion, wrapped in a torn, dirty blanket. Even the smallest movement caused sharp pains to burn through his body, and a sharper pain pierced his head as it hit a burnt microwave, waking him up from his sleep.His eyes snapped open as he came back to reality; just the other day he was doing well professionally, and he was living in this mansion with his daughter, but now it was gone and all that remained was ashes.As he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth, the sound of loud footsteps approaching broke the silence. He jumped to his feet, feeling fear hit him in the belly, prepared to run through a broken window when a voice stopped him in his tracks."Are you Mr. Stefano Navarra, the famous prosecutor?"Stefano froze, one of his legs already over the window frame. His gaze landed on a group of police officers, led by Hawk, the man he’d once considered a friend.His jaw tightened as he glared at Hawk
Deangelo's POV Eight hours earlier, all the memories of what happened ran on an unforgiving reel in my brain. Pushing past the royal guards standing guard outside the dungeon room, I ignored their protests, my mind only focused on my father's safety. But the sight that greeted me as I burst into the room froze me in my tracks. My father was fighting for his life; Ximena’s right arm was wrapped like a metallic rope around his neck, holding him pinned against the bars of the gigantic cage. He was gasping for air, a red flush mottling his pale skin. The royal guards in the room, had their guns raised, they couldn't make up their minds and were stuck between a rock and a hard place. “Just give the order, Your Highness!" one of them shouted, his voice growing stronger. "I will do what needs to be done!" "She is a wild beast that can't be tamed!" The other guard cut in; fear crossed his face. "She needs to be put down. I know that she is your wife, but give us the order; it is o
Author’s POV Stefano looked away, not wanting to be affected by her eyes. "You have no right, absolutely no right, to ask me about our daughter. I begged you not to leave me, not to leave her! She was so young and fragile. She desperately needed her mother. But what did you do?" he asked with a scoff. "You left and never looked back. And now, after all these years, when she no longer needs a mother in her life, you have the nerve, the audacity, to come here saying you want to see her? It's too late for you to act like a mother figure. I will never forgive you for what you—" She cut him off, moving closer to the bed, placing her hand on the edge, her voice loaded with emotion. "We both know I left because of you, Stefano. I couldn't stand you when you were drunk! We both know how much you abused me whenever you were drunk. Rosita might not have understood then, but she would now. I wanted to see her because I heard you didn't give her a good childhood, that you ruined her life, and
Author’s POV Stefano's eyes snapped open, his gaze fixed on the sterile white ceiling of the unfamiliar room. The periodic beeping of a machine nearby and the faint throbbing in his right arm, along with the sharp prick of a needle, told him he was in a hospital bed. He yanked the oxygen mask from his face and sat up, his head swimming. He looked around the empty room, a wave of nausea crashing through him. He reached for the IV tubes connected to his arm, yanking them out with a rush of anger. A sharp pain shot through his arm as the needle tore free, causing blood to well up. He ignored it, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to stand, but something strong pulled him back down. His stomach flipped as he slowly looked down, his heart beating rapidly. His eyes widened in shock as he realized that his legs and hands were chained to the bed. He was completely trapped; there was no escape. A choked scream escaped his lips, filled with frustration and rage. T
Deangelo’s POV Sweat coated my shirt to my back as I pounded hard on the door of the room where the hotel staff said the doctor was staying. The love of my life was dying, and I was losing it, slowly losing my fucking mind. The image of her writhing in pain before I left our room burned into my memory, disturbing me. The door finally swung open, revealing an older man in a bathrobe, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. He said something in Italian, his voice spiked with irritation. "Do you speak English?" I questioned, my voice hoarse. He nodded. "Yes… I do a little. Who are you?" "It doesn't matter," I declared, trying to keep the worry from my voice. "You need to come with me, now. My girlfriend is dying, and she needs medical attention as soon as possible." A woman's voice called out from inside the room, "Honey, who is that?" The doctor glanced back into the room. "It's a patient," he replied. "There is an emergency. I will be back in a few minutes, I promise." "
Author’s POV The mafia don’s grey eyes widened in horror as he caught sight of his mother. His hips came to a stop as he pulled himself out of the woman, leaving her lying on her stomach, her ass raised, and her hole filled with his sperm. Ximena couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. There was cum spilling out of the woman's well-shaved pussy, a large pool of white fluid spreading across the carpet beneath her. Her son's huge cock was slick with it, coated in their combined juices. He stared at his mother, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "M-Mother," he stammered, his voice hoarse. Ximena shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was still dazed by what she had just seen, her brain struggling to process the sight. Finally, she found her voice and blurted out, "Oh my goodness, son!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the room. "What the heck are you doing?! You should be welcoming our guests, not... not this!" "Ma!" he whined, looking anxiously
Author’s POV The moment her eyes met his set of golden ones, she gasped and stepped back. It was—it was Don Fernando. The balcony window was wide open, letting in a rush of cool air. "W-What are you doing here?" she inquired, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "How did you get into the mansion? Did you come to abduct me? To take revenge for what we did to you the other time?" He cut her off, his expression cold. "I didn't come to kidnap you. I have something more important to do." "More important than me?" She said, moving closer to him, running a finger down his chest in a desperate attempt to hide her fear. "You could… Kidnap me; take me anywhere you want. I wouldn't mind. I'm tired of this place, and I'm willing to take anything you throw at me. You can stab me, spank me, or try to strangle me to death, for all I care." He stared at her in disgust, grabbing her hand and pushing it away from his chest. "I liked you better when you were innocent and didn't want me. There
Author’s POV The bright morning sun streamed through the window, its strong golden rays touching Dolores’s face. The warmth felt good on her skin, a brief moment of comfort until a sharp, unbearable pain burned through her stomach. The memory of being held down on the bed, Madam Dinero’s henchmen standing over her as the needle sank into her arm, came back with disgusting clarity. The pain increased, and Dolores screamed, a deep, harsh sound that echoed through the walls. She fell off the bed, landing hard on her face. She cried as she tried to push herself up from the floor, but her limbs felt weak and unresponsive. The pain in her stomach was unbearable, a burning, twisting pain that robbed her of her strength. She clutched at her abdomen, crying out, "My baby!" Hot tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she remembered the deal she had made with Vincenzo. Now, there was no way out of this hell, no escape from this whorehouse. She felt a warm, sticky liquid trickling down
Deangelo’s POVSix Hours Earlier…The taxi's horn blasted, yanking me out of my worried thoughts. I turned towards the sound, spotting the driver leaning out the window, his face painted with frustration."Hey, uomo, are you going or not? It’s very late. I’m tired of waiting. You are wasting my time, I could have used it to pick up other customers!" He yelled in a violent stream of Italian, a language I couldn't understand, but his anger was obvious.I fished out my phone, fumbling with the screen. It was pathetic; I should have brought someone who spoke Italian. Miguel… God, I missed him. My heart clenched at the memory of his death. I opened the translator app, knowing I had to calm this guy before he drove off and left us stranded.Walking over to him, I held the phone up to his face as he spoke into it. The app let out a translation of his outburst. "If you don’t want to go, take your luggage out of my car, because it’s almost midnight and my working hours are almost up.""Take ou
Author's POV Dolores paced anxiously inside her room, a phone pressed to her right ear, nervously chewing on her fingernails. She was nervously waiting for Bruno to answer, desperate to talk to him. She still hadn't been able to recover from the shock of him getting married to another woman so soon. His phone rang for the hundredth time, unanswered. "Pick up the damn phone! Pick up! Pick up!" She muttered to herself, pleading with him to pick up, but he stubbornly refused to answer. Abruptly, a loud knock reverberated on the door. Dolores froze, ice trickling through her veins at the thought that she had been caught. She had stolen the sleeping Madam Dinero's phone to call Bruno, and it seemed the old witch was awake now. She ignored the knock, desperately redialing his number. The banging on the door increased. When the call failed to connect again, she fought the urge to toss the phone across the room. A voice came from behind the door, deep and familiar, a male voice. I
Author’s POV The moment Rosita pulled the cloth from the stranger's mouth and began struggling with the unique knots that tied her hands to the sink, the stranger gasped for breath and started speaking quickly in Italian. Rosita frowned, completely lost. She didn't understand a single word. "Um...I'm Spanish," Rosita said in English, hoping the woman understood. "I don't speak Italian, but I can speak a little bit of English and Japanese." The color left the woman's face; her small mouth formed an O of shock. "Oh," and switched to Spanish, a relieved expression crossed her. "Don't worry about it; I can also speak Spanish, my parents are mixed. I wanted to say, thank you for coming in, even though I couldn't tell you anything." "I'm glad I could help, even if I thought you were a friend who had suddenly gone missing," Rosita replied, finally managing to loosen the last knot. The stranger's hands were free. "Was...the friend you were looking for a woman with red hair and smo