Desperation forces Elena to work as a waitress in a notorious underground nightclub to cover her son's mounting medical bills. Her mundane yet precarious life takes a dangerous turn one night when several drunk patrons corner her. Before things spiral out of control, a shadowy figure intervenes — her ex-boyfriend, now a powerful and feared mafia boss, Damien Moretti. Years ago, their love was a whirlwind of passion and chaos, abruptly severed by betrayal and secrets. Now standing before her in a tailored suit with an air of cold authority, Damien isn’t the man she once knew — he’s darker, more ruthless, and unapologetically possessive. Now, he’s no longer a charming rebel but a man who bends the world to his will. His terms are chilling yet inescapable: “You belong to me. Always have. Always will. And I’ll make you remember that.” Damien offers a deal Elena can’t easily refuse — become his mistress, and he’ll wipe out all her debts. Despite her defiant spirit, Elena is torn between pride and a mother’s fierce love. Elena faces an impossible choice while hiding a secret: Draco, her five-year-old son, is Damien's child. Damien's obsession with control intensifies as he becomes increasingly possessive of Elena, keeping her under constant watch. While others label his love psychopathic, She struggles to deny the magnetic pull he still has over her. His dangerous lifestyle threatens to drag her back into a world of blood and shadows, but he’s the only one who can save her son. As their twisted relationship reignites, Damien's enemies close in, putting both Elena and Draco at risk. When Damien uncovers the truth about Draco, his possessiveness reaches a fever pitch — no one will touch what belongs to him, not even fate!
ดูเพิ่มเติมThe convoy sliced through the darkened streets, moving like a phantom in the night. The hum of the engine was steady, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside Elena’s chest. She sat in the backseat of Damien’s car, Draco curled against her, his small body radiating warmth. His fever had broken, exhaustion pulling him into a deep sleep, but Elena was wide awake.Damien’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his fingers tightening every so often as if he were holding back unspoken words. In the passenger seat, Nico lounged with deceptive ease, his gaze flicking to the side mirror every few minutes, always watching. Behind them, Lorenzo followed in another vehicle, his presence an unspoken challenge in the fragile balance between them all.Elena turned toward the window, watching the city lights blur past, her reflection a ghost in the glass. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing—not just from the attack at the gala, not just from the blood spilled on the marble floors—but from the impossible decisio
The night was eerily silent in the safehouse, but Elena couldn’t sleep.She lay in bed, Draco curled against her, his small body rising and falling in deep sleep. She brushed a hand through his curls, whispering a silent promise."I won’t let them take you again."In the other room, Damien, Nico, and Lorenzo were deep in discussion, their voices low and tense.Lorenzo crossed his arms, his expression dark. "You think DeLuca is just going to sit on the ledger? He’s planning something."Nico, leaning against the wall, smirked. "The real question is—how did he find us last time?"Damien’s jaw tightened. The thought had been gnawing at him. "There’s a mole in my organization."Just as he said it, his phone buzzed on the table.It was Matteo.Matteo’s voice was urgent, barely above a whisper. "Boss. You need to move. Now."Damien stood up, already on alert. "Talk.""Someone inside your circle sold you out. DeLuca’s men are coming—tonight."Damien didn’t hesitate. "Get everyone up. We’re le
The safehouse was quiet—too quiet. It was the eerie kind of silence that felt like the eye of a storm, the moment before everything shattered into chaos.Damien sat in his office, a glass of whiskey in one hand, the other clenched into a fist on the desk. The dim glow of the desk lamp cast shadows across his sharp features, his jaw tightening as his mind worked through the tangled web of danger surrounding them.His phone buzzed.Without hesitation, he answered."It’s done, boss. DeLuca opened the storage locker."Matteo’s voice was steady, but Damien could hear the weight behind it.Damien’s grip tightened on the glass. "And?""You’re not gonna like this."A slow exhale. "Tell me."Matteo hesitated for half a second, then dropped the bomb. "It’s a ledger. A massive one. Every corrupt official, every money trail, every deal made under the table. But this isn’t just any ledger. It’s the kind that could burn down entire governments."The words settled like lead in Damien’s gut. He had e
The convoy sped down an empty road, headlights slicing through the dense night. The tension inside the car was suffocating, pressing in on Elena like an invisible force. She cradled Draco in the backseat, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breath against her chest, a small comfort amid the chaos.Damien gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his jaw locked as he maneuvered the vehicle with ruthless efficiency. His focus remained on the road, but she could sense the storm brewing beneath his carefully restrained exterior. Behind them, Nico and Lorenzo followed closely in separate vehicles, their presence an unspoken reminder that this battle was far from over.The journey felt endless, the weight of everything they had endured settling heavily between them. When the car finally slowed, Elena lifted her gaze, taking in the secluded location before them. A towering estate stood in the moonlight, nestled deep within the countryside, its high fences and dense tree lin
The night air was thick with the stench of salt and rust. The abandoned dockyard stretched before them like a graveyard of forgotten industry—crumbling warehouses, shattered windows, and the eerie creak of metal shifting in the wind. The moon hung low, casting long, distorted shadows across the wet pavement.Elena crouched in the stolen van, her fingers digging into the edge of the door as she peered through a crack in the rusted frame. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat hammering against her ribs like a war drum. Ahead, Damien walked alone, his strides steady and unhurried, yet each movement radiated barely restrained violence.The warehouse loomed before him, its rusted doors ajar, as if the building itself were inhaling sharply, waiting for blood to be spilled.Inside, the air was damp and heavy with the scent of oil and decay. Flickering industrial lights barely pierced the darkness, casting sickly yellow pools on the cracked concrete floor. Wooden crates and rusted barrels
The estate was in chaos.Damien’s men moved in a frenzied blur, their voices sharp with urgency as they barked orders into phones and scanned through security footage. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, swirling with a volatile mix of panic and rage. The dim glow of overhead lights cast long, restless shadows against the walls, amplifying the sense of impending disaster.Elena stood at the center of it all, frozen for a mere second—just a heartbeat—before her mind caught up with the nightmare unraveling before her. Then fear turned to action, to rage, to desperation.Mrs. Fletcher lay on the couch, her frail form barely propped up by the cushions. A deep gash marred her forehead, a crimson trail streaking down her temple. One of the medics worked swiftly, dabbing antiseptic over her wound, but her trembling hands grasped at Elena’s wrist with startling strength."He was crying for you, Elena," she whispered, her voice frail yet heavy with emotion. "I tried—I fought t
Elena didn’t hesitate.The moment Nico’s words settled in her mind—“Maybe you should be asking what else he’s hiding from you”—she turned on her heel and stormed toward Damien’s office.Her pulse was a steady drumbeat of anger and something else, something more dangerous. Doubt.She shoved open the heavy double doors without knocking.Damien sat behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand, his other skimming over a stack of documents. He didn’t flinch at her abrupt entrance, nor did he glance up immediately. But the slight twitch in his jaw told her he was fully aware of her presence.Elena didn’t give him time to react.“What aren’t you telling me?”Damien finally lifted his gaze, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He was unreadable—calm, composed, dangerous.“You’re going to have to be more specific, tesoro,” he said smoothly, setting the whiskey down with an infuriating lack of urgency.Elena’s hands curled into fists at her sides.“Nico said I should be asking you that.” She too
Elena stirred slowly, her body still tangled in the lingering warmth of Damien’s sheets. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to exist in the illusion—wrapped in the scent of him, her skin still humming from the night before.The quiet before the storm.But reality crashed back in.Draco. The danger. The impossible situation she was trapped in.Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head slightly. Damien lay beside her, his bare chest rising and falling in steady breaths, his features relaxed in a way they never were when he was awake.She had seen him like this once before—before everything had shattered between them. Before betrayals and bloodshed. Before she had run.Her heart clenched.This wasn’t real.It couldn’t be.Carefully, she started to move, untangling herself from the sheets and from him. But the moment she shifted—Damien’s arm tightened around her waist.“Leaving already?” His voice was rough with sleep, his grip possessive even in half-consciousness.Elena
The moment Damien stormed into Lorenzo’s penthouse, Elena knew it was over.Lorenzo, ever the composed strategist, simply leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink with the ease of a man who expected this.“You’re making a mistake,” Lorenzo mused, watching as Damien’s men surrounded the space.“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” Damien bit out, his voice lethal. His eyes, however, were locked on Elena.She stood near the window, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.“Elena,” Damien said, his voice a mixture of frustration and something deeper, something raw. “Let’s go.”Elena didn’t move.Lorenzo smirked. “Seems she has a mind of her own.”Damien’s jaw tightened. He stepped forward, his presence suffocating. “Elena.”She hated how easily her body reacted to his voice, to the authority in it. But she wasn’t some possession to be dragged around at his whim.Lorenzo, ever the instigator, took a slow sip of his drink before murmuring, “Do you even know why she’s here?”Damien’
The rain hammered down on the pavement, a relentless curtain of cold that soaked through Elena Devereaux’s thin coat. She pulled the fabric tighter around herself, her breath visible in the chilly night air as she hurried toward Inferno. The club stood like a beacon of temptation and sin against the darkened street, its glowing red neon sign casting eerie reflections on the wet asphalt.Her heels splashed through puddles as she quickened her pace. She was already late. Draco’s asthma attack had come out of nowhere, forcing her to cradle her son until his small body finally relaxed. The hospital bills were piling up again, and this job was the only thing standing between them and financial ruin.With a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy employee entrance door and stepped inside.Heat and noise swallowed her whole. The air inside was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, alcohol, and desperation. Strobe lights flashed over a writhing crowd of bodies on the dance floor, illumina...
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