(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’
(Olivia’s POV)The morning after the storm was unnervingly quiet.The tension from the previous night wavered like static in the air. Armando had left early, barely offering a word as he slipped out of the penthouse. I didn’t stop him, and he didn’t explain where he was going. It felt easier that way—ignoring the lingering heat of his touch and the unanswered questions swirling in my mind.But the stillness of the penthouse was suffocating. Every room felt too big, too empty, and I needed something to occupy my hands. Anything to drown out the thoughts I wasn’t ready to face.The library seemed as good a place as any.The space was cavernous, the kind of room that could swallow you whole if you weren’t careful. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades.I traced my fingers along the spines, letting the feel of the leather ground me. Most of the titles were unfamiliar—business texts, histories, and biographies of peo
(Armando’s POV)I should’ve seen it coming.The first call came just after dawn, dragging me out of the few hours of restless sleep I’d managed to get. I answered it before the second ring, already knowing it wouldn’t be good news.“It’s started,” Matteo said, his voice clipped and cold. “Ferro’s people are making moves. They’ve frozen two accounts in Zurich and intercepted a shipment at the port.”I gritted my teeth, sitting up in bed. “How?”“We’re still figuring that out,” he replied. “But it’s calculated. Precise. He’s going for the throat.”I hung up without another word, my mind already racing. Alessandro Ferro had been circling like a shark for months, but this? This was bold, even for him. He wasn’t just testing the waters anymore—he was striking where it hurt.By the time I walked into the living room, Matteo was waiting for me, papers spread across the coffee table and a laptop open to a series of spreadsheets that made my stomach churn.“Four shipments stalled,” he said wit
(Olivia’s POV)It wasn’t the kind of decision you planned.One moment I was pacing the penthouse, trying to make sense of the storm brewing around us. The next, I found myself in Armando’s office, standing in front of his desk with trembling hands.The tension from our last conversation still sat heavy between us. He’d been gone most of the day, leaving me alone with my thoughts—the worst place to be. His words played on a loop in my head: Stay out of it.But how could I? Ferro was attacking, Samantha’s name had resurfaced in whispers, and Armando’s silence was like a wall I couldn’t scale. I could do anything to get back at that witch Samantha.So there I was, staring down at his files. His fortress of neatly labeled folders and encrypted documents.I told myself I was just looking for clarity, for something to make me feel less like a pawn in whatever game Armando and Ferro were playing. But the moment my fingers brushed against the edges of those papers, I knew I’d crossed a line I
(Olivia’s POV)The room was so cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones no matter how hard you tried to shake it off.I sat on a stiff leather chair, my wrists free but my body frozen in place. The walls were bare, industrial gray, and the only sound was the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. I wasn’t tied up or restrained, but the two men stationed at the door made it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.Ferro hadn’t shown himself yet, but I could feel his presence in the room—an invisible weight pressing against my chest, heavy and suffocating.The door creaked open, and there he was. Alessandro Ferro.He was taller than I’d expected, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, his every movement exuding power and control. His dark eyes locked onto mine as he entered, his lips curling into a smile that sent a chill down my spine.“Olivia Pierce,” he said smoothly, his voice low and calm. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”“I can’t say the feeling is mutual,” I replied, my
(Dual POV)(Olivia’s POV)Ferro had left me alone with his words, the weight of his offer pressing down on my chest like a vice. Betray Armando, and Ferro would destroy James for me.It wasn’t just the deal that rattled me—it was the possibility that Ferro might be right about Armando’s lies.The door creaked open, and I stiffened, expecting Ferro’s return. But instead, I heard quick, muffled footsteps outside, followed by shouting.Then came the gunshots.One. Two. Three.Each one sent a jolt through my body, and the air suddenly felt too thin.What’s happening?I stood slowly, my legs shaky beneath me, when the door burst open with a force that knocked it against the wall. My breath caught in my throat.“Get up,” Armando commanded, his voice low and dangerous.And just like that, everything changed.His voice cut through the haze like a knife, sharp and commanding.I stared at him, my mind struggling to keep up with what I was seeing. Armando was here, standing in the doorway like a
(Olivia’s POV)I sat on the edge of the bed, the events of the past few hours replaying in my mind like a broken record. Ferro’s words, Armando’s confession, the cold efficiency with which he’d rescued me—it all blended into a haze of confusion and exhaustion.I was too drained to cry, too numb to feel anything except the nagging ache in my chest. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, its incessant vibration cutting through the silence.Reluctantly, I picked it up.That’s when the world shifted and my eyes went wide and wild.The message was from an unknown number, a single link accompanied by two words: “Watch this.”I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. Every instinct told me to delete it, to ignore it, but curiosity—or maybe masochism—got the better of me. I clicked.The video began, shaky and grainy at first, like something captured on a hidden camera. But when the image cleared, my stomach dropped.It was me.The footage showed me at a gala weeks ago, leaning into Armando’
(Olivia’s POV)The screen flashed, the grainy video looping in my mind even after it stopped playing and one part of me really wished I had watched wrong or it was just a dream but it wasn’t. My body felt heavy, as though every ounce of strength had been drained from me.Armando.The man who told and cried to me he loved me. The man who swore he’d protect me. The man who looked into my eyes and made me believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone in this nightmare.And yet, there he was. His hands on another woman, his lips brushing against hers with the same tenderness he once showed me. My heart! Shattered!I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t budge. My chest felt tight, each breath a struggle as the betrayal sank in and I instantly felt dizzy. My legs couldn’t hold me up anymore as everything around me was spinning.“Olivia,” Celeste’s voice was soft, almost pitiful. “I’m sorry you had to see
(Celeste’s POV)Ferro’s hideout was as grim as the man himself—cold, industrial, and reeking of blood and steel. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of iron, and the low hum of machinery in the background was a constant reminder of his empire’s ruthlessness.I stepped into the main chamber, my heels clicking against the concrete floor, the sound echoing ominously. Ferro was seated at a long metal table, a glass of scotch in one hand, his other casually drumming against the surface. His sharp eyes followed me as I approached, their glint as calculating as always.“Celeste,” he greeted, his voice smooth but wary. “To what do I owe the pleasure again?”I smiled sweetly, taking the seat opposite him. “Business, of course. I thought it was time we discussed our mutual interests.”He raised an eyebrow, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “And what might those be?”“Olivia Pierce,” I said, my voice dipping into a dangerous
(Dual POV: Olivia and Armando)Olivia’s POVThe car ride home was suffocating. Matteo sat behind the wheel, his large frame radiating the same unshakable calm he always carried. I stared out the window, the city blurring into streaks of light as the car hummed softly.I couldn’t stop replaying the last few hours in my head—Celeste’s concerned stare, Armando’s furious words, the chaos that seemed to follow me everywhere. I just couldn’t trust or allow myself to be vulnerable around Armando.Matteo’s silence only made my thoughts louder. He was Armando’s shadow, his ever-loyal right hand, and yet, somehow, he felt impenetrable.“Matteo,” I said cautiously, my voice cutting through the quiet.He glanced at me briefly in the rearview mirror but said nothing.“What’s Armando like?” I asked, my tone casual but laced with curiosity. I didn’t even know how and why I asked that question.“He’s the boss,” Matteo repl
(Dual POV: Olivia and Armando)Olivia’s POVThe first thing I felt was the warmth of his arms. My head rested against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat filling the silence.“Olivia,” Armando’s voice broke through the haze, low and strained. His hand brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle but desperate.I blinked slowly, the light in the room too harsh for my pounding head. Every breath felt like a struggle, and the metallic taste of poison still lingered on my tongue.“You’re awake,” he said, relief flooding his voice.I struggled to sit up, but his hands steadied me. “How…?” I literally thought I was going to die after the pain I had felt before I passed out. The second time I was passing out in how many days.“An antidote,” he said curtly. “We were lucky Dominic got his hands on it in time to give it to the doctor.”My mind swirled with fragments of the summit, Celeste’s soothi
(Olivia’s POV)The drive back from the event was suffocating. Silence filled the car, heavy and unyielding, but I could feel Armando’s frustration simmering just beneath the surface. I stared out the window, pretending I didn’t notice the way his grip tightened on the steering wheel every time he glanced my way. I cared less all I cared about was how I was going to get back at Ferro.When we finally got back to the safe house, I decided to break the silence. “Celeste invited me to a women’s summit she’s hosting next week.” I frowned with my hands folded and placed on my breast as I didn’t even want to have any conversation with him.He didn’t respond immediately, but I could see the muscles in his jaw clench.“And?” he asked finally, his tone clipped.“I’m going,” I said simply and also turned to leave.He turned to me, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re not serious.”I narrowed my eyes in shock. Who the hell did he t
(Celeste’s POV)The ballroom shimmered like a treasure chest of dreams—gilded walls sparkled under the glow of crystal chandeliers, while polished floors mirrored the lavishness of the night. As I crossed the threshold, I embraced an air of confidence, allowing the soft click of my heels to herald my entrance into this enchanting scene.The air was thick with ambition and pretense. I could see it in the forced smiles, the hollow laughter, the way everyone sized each other up while pretending to be friends.It was perfect.I let my lips curve into a soft smile, just enough to seem approachable, not enough to betray my thoughts. My gown, a deep emerald green, hugged my body like a lover, shimmering subtly with every step. I knew how to turn heads without looking like I was trying to—and tonight, I wanted all the eyes on me.But my gaze was fixed on two people.Armando Moretti and Olivia Pierce.They stood by the bar,
(Olivia’s POV)The first thing I felt was warmth—an unfamiliar sensation that spread across my hand like sunlight breaking through clouds. My eyelids were heavy, as though they had been weighted down for an eternity, but I forced them open.The light above me was muted, soft against the pale walls of a hospital room. The sterile smell of antiseptic hit my senses as my vision cleared. I groaned in slight pain as I tried to move.And then I saw him.Armando was slumped in a chair beside me, his dark eyes rimmed with exhaustion and worry, his hand gripping mine so tightly it ached. His suit jacket was wrinkled, his tie loosened—a rare sight for a man who prided himself on precision. For a moment I was terrified seeing him and I flinged.When he noticed my movement, his head shot up, his expression transforming from despair to unbridled relief.“Olivia,” he breathed, his voice breaking. “You’re awake.” There was shock and joy in
(Olivia’s POV)There were blinding lights.I lifted my hands to shield my face, squinting as the searing brightness pressed against my closed eyelids. It was endless, consuming, like staring into the sun. Slowly, the intensity ebbed, the light softening to a warm glow that bathed the space in golden hues.I lowered my hands cautiously, blinking to adjust. The world around me was unfamiliar—a vast expanse of white, pristine and unbroken. No walls. No sky. Just light.My breaths came unevenly as I turned in place, searching for something, anything to ground me. That’s when I saw it—a door, tall and ornate, standing alone in the void. Its wood was dark, polished, and adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift subtly, like whispers frozen in time.I hesitated.The air felt heavier as I approached the door, my steps echoing faintly despite the lack of visible floor. Each step made my heart pound harder, the sound reverb
(Armando’s POV)The ocean roared beneath us, the speedboat slicing through the choppy waves as my me prepared for what was likely a suicide mission because we were unsure how many men were with Ferro on the island. The salt spray clung to my skin, but it couldn’t wash away the weight crushing my chest. I couldn’t just get the face of Olivia out of my mind. My chest heaved and I really hated this feeling so much and really wished I would never feel this way.Olivia was out there, trapped in the clutches of a monster. Every second that passed felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I knew Ferro and I knew he was. Ruthless son of a bitch and I swore that if I see just a scratch on Olivia’s body, I would rip him apart and feed his balls to the vultures.Dominic’s voice crackled over the headset. “We’re five minutes out. The island’s heavily fortified—guards on every entry point. You’ll only have one shot at this.”“I don’t care what it takes,” I s