The gates of the Moretti estate were impossibly tall, intricate ironwork twisting and curling like a fortress against the world. As the car rolled forward, I gripped the edge of my seat, my stomach knotting tighter with every meter we covered. Beyond the gates, manicured gardens stretched out like a perfectly crafted painting, the sprawling mansion at the center radiating a cold, intimidating beauty.“This is just one of the properties,” Armando said casually, his voice breaking the oppressive silence in the car.I glanced at him, his profile sharp against the morning light. He looked calm, at ease, as though walking into a lion’s den was a daily routine. Maybe it was for him.“What if they don’t believe us?” I asked, my voice tighter than I’d intended. “Your family—they’ll see right through this.” Armando had requested that I come see his family because they were the reason he needed to fake marriage. He never wanted to get married after what a woman did to him. So he said.“They won
The morning after Vincent’s warning, the air in Armando’s penthouse felt heavy, almost oppressive. I sat on the plush gray couch, staring at a folder Armando had placed on the coffee table in front of me. The sleek leather cover was unassuming, but I knew whatever lay inside would change the way I saw James—and possibly, myself.“This will answer most of your questions,” Armando said, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his silhouette stark against the bright city skyline.I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the edge of the folder. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.He turned, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “Because you need to understand who James really is—and why he deserves what’s coming to him.”His tone sent a shiver down my spine. Taking a deep breath, I flipped the folder open.Inside were documents, photos, and financial records that painted a picture far worse than I had ever imagined. James wasn’t just a liar or a cheat—he was a frau
The glow of the city lights filtered through the penthouse windows, casting long shadows on the sleek marble floors. I sat curled up on the oversized couch, my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the untouched glass of water on the table in front of me.The events of the past twenty-four hours played on a loop in my mind: Vincent’s cryptic warning, the attack in the parking lot, and Armando’s unwavering promise that I was safe with him.But was I?The man who had lunged at me with a knife was no random thug. He had known what he was doing, and he hadn’t hesitated. That kind of precision came from experience—and that terrified me.Armando entered the room, his presence as commanding as ever, a cup of coffee in his hand. He placed it on the table before sitting across from me. His tie was loosened, and the faintest hint of weariness shadowed his otherwise sharp features.“You’ve been quiet,” he said, his tone calm but probing.I glanced at him, the weight of unspoken questions pressing
(Olivia’s POV)The silk lining of my gown clung to my legs as I slid into the passenger seat of Armando’s Aston Martin. My fingers twitched in my lap, nervous energy I couldn’t quite hide. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence as Armando navigated the streets like they belonged to him—smooth, calculated, and always in control. We had a Gala to attend. First party to attend as a couple.“Do you have to look so tense?” he asked, glancing at me briefly. His hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his cufflinks catching the light from passing streetlamps.“I’m not tense,” I lied, smoothing my dress over my knees. I just didn’t know how to hide my tension.“You’re practically fidgeting,” he countered. “It’s a gala, not a battlefield.”“For you, maybe,” I muttered, turning to watch the city blur past the window. The truth was, my nerves had been shot ever since the attack. I could still feel the cold blade of the knife from that parking lot, hear Armando’s sharp command as he br
(Olivia’s POV)The night hadn’t even ended, and I already wanted to leave.My encounter with Isabella had left a sour taste in my mouth. Her words—smooth and deliberately vague—lingered like smoke in my lungs. I just could not stop thinking about her and why Armando had denied deep relationship with her. It also got me wondering if my decision to align with Armando was a good idea. Armando hadn’t brought her up, not once, and the way he’d dismissed her as “no one important” felt like an insult to my intelligence.No one important didn’t make veiled threats or imply my life was part of some elaborate game.The ballroom still pulsed with chatter, clinking glasses, and that relentless undercurrent of tension. Armando was back to holding court, surrounded by business magnates and sharp smiles, while I stayed near the edges of the crowd. I sipped at a champagne flute that I didn’t really want, wondering how I’d let myself get dragged into all of this.Then I heard him.“Olivia!”It wasn’t
(Armando’s POV)The city was quiet at this hour, the kind of silence that felt unnatural, like the calm before a storm. I stood by the window of the penthouse bedroom, nursing a glass of whiskey, my eyes fixed on the skyline. The lights stretched endlessly, each one representing someone else’s life, someone else’s struggle.And yet, my thoughts couldn’t leave her.Olivia was in the bathroom, the soft hum of running water breaking the quiet. I could still picture her from earlier tonight—the way she handled herself under James’s glare, the calm edge in her voice when she dismissed him like he was nothing. It was a game to her now, or at least that’s what she wanted everyone to believe.But I’d seen the way her hand trembled when she set down her glass. I’d felt the tension in her body when I touched her back.She was scared. And she hated that.I took another sip of whiskey, letting it burn down my throat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. When I first brought Olivia into my world
(Olivia’s POV)The night after the gala, sleep didn’t come easily.I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the city below. The events of the evening replayed in my mind on a loop—James’s fury, Armando’s cool dominance, and then Isabella’s cryptic warning. You’re his most valuable piece.What did she mean?I turned on my side, glancing toward Armando. He was sprawled in his chair by the window, still dressed in his slacks and shirt, nursing a glass of whiskey like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. His gaze was distant, his expression unreadable, but something about the tension in his shoulders told me his mind was as restless as mine.I should’ve just asked him outright. About Isabella. About James. About everything. But I didn’t.Instead, I fell asleep with that tension coiling tight in my chest, certain that nothing about Armando was as simple as he wanted me to believe.The next morning, the envelope was waiting.I found it on the fl
(Dual POV)Olivia’s POVThe storm came suddenly, violent and unrelenting, like it was trying to tear the city apart. Rain hammered against the penthouse windows in furious bursts, the sound echoing through the quiet space. The power had gone out an hour ago, leaving us with nothing but the flickering light of scattered candles.Armando moved through the room like the storm didn’t bother him at all. Calm. Controlled. Of course he wasn’t rattled—nothing ever seemed to reach him. Not the chaos outside, not the mess we’d found ourselves in, and certainly not me.I tucked my legs under me on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “I didn’t think storms like this happened here.” I broke the ice of silence.“They don’t,” Armando said, setting another candle on the coffee table. He turned toward me, leaning against the edge of the couch, his face partially illuminated by the warm light. “Not usually.”I tried to focus on the storm, but my thoughts kept drifting. Isabella’
(Armando’s POV)I watched from the shadows as Olivia left Ferro’s estate, her steps faltering, her face pale.She didn’t know I was there. She didn’t know I’d followed her, seen the way Ferro’s eyes gleamed with victory as he leaned in close to her, whispering words meant to ensnare her on his balcony.But I knew.Ferro wasn’t just playing a game—he was closing in. And if I didn’t act now, I’d lose her forever.——The office smelled of smoke and leather, the air thick with the pressure of decisions I didn’t want to make. Matteo stood across from me, his expression grim as he laid the latest report on my desk.“Ferro’s moving fast,” he said, his tone clipped. “He’s consolidating his power, leveraging everything he’s got. He’s coming for you, boss.”“And Olivia,” I said, my voice low.Matteo hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Especially her.” I exhaled heavily and gritted my teeth.The thought of Ferro anywhere near her sent a surge of rage through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. Ferr
(Olivia’s POV)Ferro’s estate felt colder when I left.The deal had been struck, but as the gates closed behind me, a knot tightened in my chest. I was in over my head, aligning with a man like Ferro. But James had to fall—there was no other way. That was the one thing I craved and I was willing to give my all for that to happen. As much as I was angry and wanted to hate Armando, I just couldn’t and I hated myself for that.Still, Ferro’s parting words haunted me: “Remember, Olivia, trust is for fools. You’re better than that.”———-The office hadn’t changed, but James had.He sat behind his desk, the smirk I once found charming now a mask for desperation. The lines around his eyes were deeper, his posture less confident. But the arrogance was still there, festering beneath the surface. Just setting my eyes on the maniac made my blood boil.“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “The prodigal wife. To what do I owe this honor?”I stepped forward, the folder clutche
(Dual POV)(Olivia’s POV)I ran.The echoes of their voices—James’s accusations, Armando’s desperate pleas—still clung to me as I stumbled into the night. My chest was tight, my vision blurred, and the ring on my finger felt like a shackle I couldn’t remove fast enough.Everything was a lie.The man I had trusted, the man I had begun to care for, had orchestrated the destruction of my family. Armando had played me, just like James and Ferro had, and now I was left in the ruins of their games.I tore the ring off my finger.It wasn’t a declaration. It was a surrender. And I knew just what to do to make everyone pay.Olivia’s POVI didn’t know how long I wandered the streets before I ended up outside Ferro’s estate.The guards at the gate didn’t stop me this time. They simply stepped aside, their expressions unreadable as I walked through the towering iron gates.Inside, the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of classical music floating through the air. Ferro was waiting for me in t
(Olivia’s POV)The proposal was nothing like I imagined.Armando didn’t kneel. There were no flowers, no grand declarations of love. Just him, standing in the middle of the living room, his dark eyes piercing mine as he held out a velvet box.“This is what needs to happen,” he said simply.I stared at him, the uncertainty of his words pressing down on me. “What do you mean, ‘needs to happen’?”His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might backpedal. But that wasn’t Armando. He never faltered.“It’s the only way to solidify the alliances we’ve been building,” he explained. “A show of unity. Strength.”“So this is about business,” I said bitterly, folding my arms across my chest.“It’s about survival,” he corrected, his tone sharp.I wanted to laugh, to throw the ring box back at him and tell him to shove his survival. But when I looked at him—really looked at him—I saw something I didn’t expect.Fear.Not for himself, but for me.“Olivia,” he said, stepping closer, his voice
(James’ POV)The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to dull the weight in my chest.My reflection in the office window stared back at me, the sharp lines of my jaw and the glint of my watch mocking me. Once, I’d been untouchable. Once, the name James Calloway had commanded respect. Now, I was a man clinging to the edges of a world that had spat me out, a world Armando Moretti ruled with iron fists and Olivia Pierce at his side.That bastard.I set the glass down, my fingers drumming against the desk. Every move Armando made was calculated, every step another reminder that I’d been outplayed. But that didn’t mean I was out of the game. Not yet.The knock on the door came precisely on time.“Come in,” I said, adjusting my tie.Ferro entered, his sharp suit and sharper smile giving him the air of a man who thrived on chaos. He took the seat opposite me without waiting for an invitation, his eyes assessing, calculating.“James,” he said smoothly, leaning back i
(Dual POV)Olivia’s POVThe penthouse was eerily quiet when I returned, the weight of Ferro’s words clinging to me like a second skin.“With me, you could be so much more.”The idea gnawed at me, tempting and terrifying in equal measure. Ferro had made himself out to be the devil I knew—the one who told me the truths Armando wouldn’t. But deep down, I knew he wasn’t a savior. He was a predator, circling me because he saw the cracks Armando had left behind.But was he wrong?I didn’t trust Armando anymore—not fully. His secrets, his violent world, the files that laid my life bare—it was all too much. And yet, the thought of betraying him made my stomach turn.I found him in the living room, his figure partially illuminated by the warm glow of a single lamp. He sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. He looked up as I entered, his dark eyes locking onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey.“You’re late, where did you go to?” he said
(Olivia and Ferro POV)Olivia’s POVSleep was a distant memory.I tossed and turned, Armando’s words replaying in my head on a loop. “This is protection, Olivia. Do you have any idea how many people want you dead?”Every time I closed my eyes, the image of that secret room surfaced—the files, the photos, the lies disguised as truths. He said it was for my protection, but how could I believe that when everything about him felt like a game I didn’t know the rules to? It was more as though everything around me was a lie and to be truthful, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.He hadn’t come to find me after our argument. He’d stayed in his office, the door closed, leaving me alone to drown in my thoughts. Still while thinking about my life, I couldn’t stop to have flashbacks of how Armando fucked me. The memory was alway fresh in my head and each time my nipples get so hard at the thought of him. I really wanted to stop thinking about it but still couldn’t get it off my head. The way h
(Olivia’s POV)The penthouse was quieter than it had ever been.The kind of silence that didn’t feel like peace but like the edge of a storm. Armando hadn’t said a word since we’d left the auction. He hadn’t needed to—the blood on his shirt, the fire in his eyes, and the bodies left in his wake had spoken loudly enough.I was exhausted, my thoughts a tangled mess as I walked aimlessly through the sprawling space. The events of the night replayed in my mind on a loop: Ferro’s taunts, the bids climbing higher and higher, and then the explosion of chaos when Armando made his move.Protector or predator?I didn’t have an answer anymore.I’d seen the lengths Armando would go to for me. I’d felt the raw intensity of his actions, the way he’d cut through Ferro’s men like they were nothing more than obstacles in his way. But the violence—the sheer, unrelenting force of it—had shaken something loose inside me.And then there was the auction itself, the truths Ferro had dangled like bait. My na
(Armando’s POV)The moment Ferro said her name, the world tilted.Olivia’s name on that screen. Her life, her family, her scars—laid bare for the vultures to pick apart.Ferro had crossed a line, and I was done playing his game and I couldn’t stick to my plan anymore.I stepped into the spotlight, tearing off the mask I’d worn to blend into this den of filth. My fury cut through the crowd like a blade, and they scattered as if sensing the storm I was about to unleash.“Enough,” I said, my voice low, sharp, and final.The crowd froze. Even Ferro, who thrived on chaos, faltered for a moment before regaining his smug composure.“Armando,” he said smoothly, spreading his arms like a ringmaster basking in applause. “What a surprise. Have you come to bid, or just to steal the show?”“You’ve gone too far,” I said, my words laced with venom. “Take her off the docket. Now.”Ferro smirked, tilting his head as if he found my anger amusing. “I don’t think you understand how this works. Once a sec