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CHAPTER NINETEEN:- SHADOWS OF DECEPTION
Last Updated:
2025-04-09 03:04:25
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Amara paced her room, the cryptic text message playing over and over in her mind. She couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling it brought—someone was watching her, and they knew too much. Every creak and shadow seemed amplified, as if the walls themselves were conspiring against her. The door creaked open, and she whipped around, eyes widening as Leonardo stepped inside without knocking. His face was unreadable, but his eyes carried a storm. He didn’t say a word—just stared at her with a darkness that sent a chill down her spine. “What do you want?” she snapped, masking her fear with defiance. He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved closer, his steps unhurried but deliberate. Amara swallowed hard, refusing to give ground. When he was close enough to touch, he stopped, his gaze boring into hers. “Were you at the docks tonight again?” he demanded, his voice deceptively calm. Amara hesitated, searching for the right words. “Why do you care?” His jaw tightened, and his hand shot out, grab
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The sound of a gunshot echoed through the marble hallways. Amara didn’t flinch. Her heels clicked against the polished floors as she walked past the line of kneeling men, their hands tied behind their backs, their faces pale with terror. The scent of blood lingered in the air, but she barely noticed it. She had spent too much time around men like these—killers, liars, cowards who thought power meant being feared. And yet, none of them terrified her as much as the man sitting in the leather chair at the end of the room. Leonardo DeLuca. The man who owned this city. The man who owned HER. Her boss. Her tormentor. Her obsession. Amara stopped a few feet away from his desk, ignoring the body of the man who had been shot just seconds ago. He was still twitching, his lifeless eyes staring at her, as if accusing her for his fate. Leonardo leaned back in his chair, his dark gaze locked onto hers. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ex
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The room was too quiet. The body was still warm on the floor, blood seeping into the marble like an ink stain that would never wash away. The kneeling men remained frozen, too scared to even breathe. But Amara? She only stared at Leonardo, her expression blank, her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged bird. She had made a mistake. Not by standing up to him—no, that was inevitable. But by thinking, even for a second, that she could just walk away. That he would let her. “Let me make something clear,” Leonardo said, tapping his fingers against the gun. The sound was steady, methodical. DEADLY. “You don’t get to quit, Amara.” She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay calm. “I just did.” His dark eyes flickered with something dangerous. Something possessive. “No, you THOUGHT you did. But you’re still standing here. You’re still breathing. That means you belong to me.” Her stomach twisted, but she refused to show weakness. She should have known this wouldn’t be
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The gunfire started before Amara could even process her next move. The Romano family wasn’t waiting. Glass shattered as bullets tore through the windows, sending the men in the room scrambling for cover. Leonardo barely flinched. Instead, he grabbed Amara by the waist and pulled her down behind his massive oak desk, shielding her with his body. Her breath hitched at the sudden closeness, but there was no time to focus on that—not when the room was turning into a war zone. “Get to the safe house!” one of Leonardo’s men shouted. “No,” Leonardo said, voice calm as he pulled out another gun from the drawer. “We finish this NOW.” Amara clenched her jaw. Of course, he wouldn’t run. Of course, he would *fight*. That was the thing about Leonardo DeLuca—he wasn’t just a king in this world, he was a *god*. And gods didn’t flee. She stole a glance at him. His expression was unreadable, his grip steady as he fired back at their attackers. His men were already returning fire,
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The room felt heavier, as if the walls were closing in. Dante stood in the doorway, the smirk on his lips unwavering. The small black USB drive in his hand was no bigger than a fingertip, yet it held enough power to make even Leonardo DeLuca hesitate. Amara saw it—the flicker in Leonardo’s gaze, the tightening of his jaw. Whatever was on that drive, it wasn’t just leverage. It was a THREAT. A real one. Leonardo turned to her, his fingers still wrapped around her wrist, his touch a stark contrast to the war brewing between them. Then, with a voice like a blade against silk, he asked, *“Is there something I should know, Amara?”* It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. Her pulse spiked. “I don’t know what’s on that drive.” She wasn’t lying. Not really. But Leonardo didn’t like unknowns. He didn’t like uncertainty. And right now, she was BOTH. Dante sighed dramatically. “Oh, Amara. I’d be hurt if I didn’t know you better.” He twirled the USB drive between
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The screen flickered to life, casting a cold glow over the dimly lit office. Leonardo sat stiffly behind his desk, one hand hovering over the laptop’s keyboard while the other drummed against the armrest. His gaze remained locked on the screen, his expression unreadable. Amara stood behind him, arms crossed, her heart hammering. The file loaded. And then— A video began to play. The footage was grainy but clear enough. The setting was a dimly lit underground club, the kind where rules didn’t exist and power belonged to whoever had the most blood on their hands. A man sat at the center of it all. Not just any man. Leonardo DeLuca. But this wasn’t the calculated, composed crime lord Amara had come to know. No. This version of him was WILD. UNHINGED. His eyes burned with fury, his suit stained with something dark—something RED. In the video, he wasn’t seated at the head of the table. He wasn’t giving orders. He was being *held down*. By two men. Amara’s stomac
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Leonardo was calculating. Amara could feel it in the way he moved, in the way his fingers tapped against his desk—a silent rhythm of controlled fury. He was crafting his next move, and it was going to be brutal. She should have been relieved. After all, this was what he did best. He eliminated threats. He made enemies disappear. So why did she feel like SHE was about to be the one trapped? Before she could dwell on it, the door to Leonardo’s office burst open. Matteo stormed in, his face pale. “Boss,” he said, out of breath. “We have a problem.” Leonardo didn’t look up. “Then fix it.” Matteo swallowed hard. “I can’t.” Something in his voice made Leonardo still. Slowly, he turned. His gaze, once simmering with cold amusement, was now sharp as a blade. “Explain.” Matteo hesitated. Then he took a step forward, tossing a phone onto the desk. The screen was already lit, a video playing. Leonardo’s eyes narrowed as he watched. Amara stepped closer. And then—her
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Leonardo was watching her. Not in the way he usually did—with amusement, with curiosity. No.This was different. This was pure, unfiltered OBSESSION. Amara felt it in the way his fingers drummed against the desk. In the way his gaze never left her face, like he was memorizing every detail, every flicker of emotion. He had given Matteo orders to investigate the footage. But something told her… It wouldn’t matter what Matteo found. Leonardo had already made up his mind. He didn’t TRUST her. And that? That was DANGEROUS. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, breaking the silence. “That’s not like you.” Amara forced herself to hold his gaze. “I’m thinking.” “About?” “How to get out of this mess.” His lips twitched—just slightly. “And?” She inhaled. “Dante is playing a long game. You know that.” Leonardo leaned back in his chair. “Of course.” She narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you looking at me like I'M the enemy?” He didn’t answer. Instead,
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Amara paced her room, the cryptic text message playing over and over in her mind. She couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling it brought—someone was watching her, and they knew too much. Every creak and shadow seemed amplified, as if the walls themselves were conspiring against her. The door creaked open, and she whipped around, eyes widening as Leonardo stepped inside without knocking. His face was unreadable, but his eyes carried a storm. He didn’t say a word—just stared at her with a darkness that sent a chill down her spine. “What do you want?” she snapped, masking her fear with defiance. He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved closer, his steps unhurried but deliberate. Amara swallowed hard, refusing to give ground. When he was close enough to touch, he stopped, his gaze boring into hers. “Were you at the docks tonight again?” he demanded, his voice deceptively calm. Amara hesitated, searching for the right words. “Why do you care?” His jaw tightened, and his hand shot out, grab
BOUND BY OBSESSION CHAPTER NINETEEN:- SHADOWS OF DECEPTION
Amara leaned against the cold brick wall, catching her breath, her mind racing with everything that had just transpired. The text message replayed over and over in her mind: *Careful who you trust. Eyes are everywhere.* Who sent it? And more importantly—why now? Her instincts screamed at her to leave, but her curiosity wouldn’t let her just walk away without answers. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake—not now, when Leonardo’s suspicions were already mounting. She crept back toward the docks, keeping to the shadows, trying to piece together what she had just witnessed. Leonardo had received something important—a package. But the way he had reacted afterward made her stomach twist. Suddenly, a noise snapped her from her thoughts—a low growl of an engine. Amara’s heart pounded as a sleek, dark car rolled to a stop a few yards away. Her pulse quickened when Matteo stepped out, his expression hard and unreadable. She ducked behind a stack of crates, watching as he made his way toward
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Amara’s hands trembled as she locked the door behind her, trying to catch her breath. The events at the docks had left her rattled—more than she wanted to admit. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Leonardo had seen her. That he knew she was there. She turned and almost screamed when she saw him standing in the shadows of her room. His presence was overpowering, and his eyes—dark and unreadable—pinned her in place. “You went to the docks,” he said calmly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. Amara swallowed hard, forcing herself to look unaffected. “Why do you care? It’s not like you own me.” Leonardo moved closer, every step purposeful and slow, like a predator stalking its prey. He didn’t stop until he was inches from her, his breath warm against her forehead. “Did you see something you shouldn’t have?” he whispered, his tone both taunting and threatening. Amara lifted her chin defiantly. “Maybe I did. Maybe I saw you making deals behind Dante’s back.” His jaw
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Amara’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she drove back from the docks, her mind spinning with questions and doubts. The message still lingered on her phone screen—careful who you trust. Eyes are everywhere. She couldn’t shake the creeping paranoia crawling up her spine. Who sent it? Was it a warning, or a threat? And how did they know she was there? Her phone buzzed again, and her heart leapt into her throat. She pulled over to the side of the road, glancing around to make sure she was alone. This time, it was Matteo. “Where the hell are you?” he barked the moment she picked up. Amara hesitated. “On my way back. What’s wrong?” “I just heard from one of Dante’s men. Someone tipped him off about the dock deal. He thinks Leonardo’s planning to double-cross him.” Her stomach twisted. “That’s not possible. Leonardo wouldn’t be that reckless.” “That’s what I thought too. But Dante’s losing it—he’s putting men on high alert. Whatever happened at the docks, it’s stirred up
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Amara paced the length of her room, her mind spinning like a broken record. Leonardo’s warning echoed in her ears—his unexpected display of protectiveness still replaying in her mind. She couldn’t afford to let herself get caught up in his twisted version of care. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she snapped it up, expecting to see another cryptic message from her informant. Instead, it was Matteo. Her heart thumped as she hesitated, then swiped to answer. "Yeah?" she whispered, glancing at the door to make sure no one was listening. "You need to move fast," Matteo said. His voice was low, tense. "Leonardo’s heading to the docks tonight. Something about sealing the deal with Dante’s crew." Amara’s pulse quickened. "What kind of deal?" "Don’t know," he admitted. "But it sounds big. And dangerous." A plan formed in her mind. If she could get to the docks first, she might uncover what Leonardo was truly up to—or use it to finally expose him. It was time to make her move. Bu
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Amara couldn’t shake the feeling that the text she received earlier was a game-changer, but she couldn’t afford to be distracted—not when Leonardo’s every move seemed like a calculated strategy to test her loyalty. She knew he was suspicious. She could see it in his eyes whenever they landed on her, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle only he could solve. She paced the confines of her room, her mind racing. Her phone buzzed again, but this time she didn’t bother looking at it. Matteo had been oddly quiet since helping her escape earlier, and that worried her. Had he told Leonardo the truth about her sudden absence? Or was he keeping quiet to protect himself? Either way, she needed to get ahead of whatever storm was brewing. A soft knock at her door snapped her out of her thoughts. She froze, heart pounding, before forcing herself to move. She opened it cautiously, only to find Leonardo standing there, his presence almost suffocating. His gaze swept over her, cold and calc
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Amara stood by the grand window of Leonardo’s penthouse, watching the city lights blink like fallen stars scattered across the ground. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes wide and unfocused, replaying the scene from earlier over and over again. Leonardo’s words, his warning, his fierce protectiveness—it was all too much to process. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now, not when she was so close to flipping the game on him. But every time he looked at her with that intense, unyielding gaze, her resolve threatened to crumble. Footsteps echoed behind her, and she straightened her spine, composing herself before turning to see Matteo leaning against the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but she could tell he had something on his mind. "You’re playing a dangerous game," he remarked, his voice low. She arched an eyebrow, masking her unease with a smirk. "And since when did danger ever scare me?" Matteo crossed his arms. "He’s not the kind of man you can manipulate with
BOUND BY OBSESSION CHAPTER FOURTEEN:- THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT
Amara stood by the grand window of Leonardo’s penthouse, watching the city lights blink like fallen stars scattered across the ground. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes wide and unfocused, replaying the scene from earlier over and over again. Leonardo’s words, his warning, his fierce protectiveness—it was all too much to process. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now, not when she was so close to flipping the game on him. But every time he looked at her with that intense, unyielding gaze, her resolve threatened to crumble. Footsteps echoed behind her, and she straightened her spine, composing herself before turning to see Matteo leaning against the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but she could tell he had something on his mind. "You’re playing a dangerous game," he remarked, his voice low. She arched an eyebrow, masking her unease with a smirk. "And since when did danger ever scare me?" Matteo crossed his arms. "He’s not the kind of man you can manipulate with
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Amara’s mind raced as she sat alone in her room, the weight of Leonardo’s words still pressing on her chest. Why did he care so much? Was it just about control, or something deeper? She shook her head, refusing to let herself spiral into uncertainty. Emotions were dangerous, and right now, she needed to focus. The city lights flickered through the window, and Amara couldn’t help but feel trapped despite the luxury surrounding her. Every corner of Leonardo’s estate was crawling with his men—loyal soldiers who would sooner shoot her than question his orders. Yet, somehow, she’d managed to twist Matteo around her finger. That was her strength: making people underestimate her. Letting them think she was fragile, helpless. A faint knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She straightened, masking her anxiety with indifference. "Who is it?" she called, her voice steady. "It’s Matteo," came the muffled reply. "Boss wants to see you." Her pulse quickened, but she forced a calm
