This scene made me scream at my draft. Haha. How's your day going? ❤️
**TRISTAN** Agreed too quickly—far too quickly for a girl who decided to bestow her attention on him only a month ago. Despite the smirk tugging at my lips, I felt my blood boil. What was wrong with me? I didn't know if I wanted to kill him—tighten my fingers around his throat—or fuck him hard. "You always make bad decisions," I breathed, soaking in the hatred his eyes exuded. "Tell me about it," he retorted. I gripped his waist, nails digging into his skin. He winced and swallowed. He looked so beautiful this way, from the damp waves of his hair down to his toes, and I hated how obvious that was, even as rage coursed through me. And that clear skin... I pressed my fingers deeper into his neck. Give it time—it wouldn't stay that clear. "Come on now," I whispered. "Get on your knees." He drew a deep breath, but he didn’t hesitate, sliding down until he was on the wet floor. Before my arousal, he blushed red but kept his eyes locked on mine. And that... that sent blood
**TRISTAN** "...Get your fucking uncle in order!" Detonations and a feminine scream accompanied the angry order. For Eros to call it a glock, he was in trouble. I groaned, leaving the mini bar, the half-filled glass forgotten for a moment. It was almost two, and here I was, still drinking myself to stupor. "Tristan! Are you there?!" Eros's voice cut through my confusion. The screeching, the gunfire—it was all giving me a headache. "Jesus Christ, man! I'm going to die. Call your fucking uncle!" I massaged the side of my head, walking to the window. "Why do you think it's Nico?" "I don't know..." he snarled. "Maybe because he's been on my case since he found out about the little sessions you have with M..." He stopped himself just in time. I bit back a smile. "Just call your uncle and sort this shit out!" I walked back to the counter, taking the tumbler and listening to its quiet slosh. Picking up the house phone, I punched in the very familiar number. At the first ring,
Dinner with Jake was surprisingly pleasant. The awkwardness I had expected never arrived. Instead, we talked—about school, books, and random little things that didn’t seem important but filled the silence in a way that made me feel... normal. He wasn’t overbearing, didn’t ask invasive questions. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to guard every word I said.Afterward, we sat on his small couch, our plates balanced on the coffee table, the dim kitchen light spilling into the living room. He owned one of the nicest spots in the neighborhood. Considering how much he worked, I understood why—but I couldn’t fathom how he kept the place so spotless. Like he read my thoughts, he said, “Left home at sixteen, moved to D.C., found a job my first week, loved the pay, and haven’t looked back since.” When I stayed quiet, he shrugged. “I wanted to make it clear—I’m not trying to make you my next dinner or something.” I smiled, comforted by his easygoing tone. “Not that.” My eyes wandered ar
**JADE** "...It's one-two, two, one-two, three! And spin! Jade, Jade McCoy, what is up with you today?!" The coach yelled. I had no clue, but suddenly, the gown felt too tight—so tight I struggled for air instead of skating. Then came the gunfire, suddenly piercing my thoughts, leaving me gasping, panting, and almost tripping. It's Monday, and I can't concentrate. I almost died in an intense gun chase, and they wouldn’t know it. I fainted in the car. Listening to Eros banter with the person on the other end made my stomach churn. It told me everything I needed to know: *They had come for him*. He was used to this. As I fainted, I wondered why he never pulled out a gun—for I damn well knew he had one. I woke up in his house, still fully dressed, on a bed that smelled like him. He lived big—I listened to the quiet house—and alone, too. I snatched my coat, ready to race out of wherever this place was. But opening the door, there he was, drying his wet hands with a towel.
For the rest of the week, Tristan didn’t so much as breathe in my direction. It probably had something to do with the fact that I avoided both the rink and the canteen. Instead, I spent most of my days in the chemistry lab. Nat was always around, and whenever she was, most of our experiments ended up blowing up in our faces. We laughed until our stomachs hurt, quickly cleaning up the mess before the teachers noticed. The sharp smell of chemicals clung to our clothes as we left the lab, giggling like kids who had just gotten away with a prank. At home, the silence felt heavier than usual. Mum was out more often, and even when she was around, she seemed distant. Whenever I caught her, she smelled like scented candles. With all this free time, I buried myself in reading. My phone stayed silent—so unlike it usually was. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jade was okay. Friday arrived too quickly, knocking me off my feet. Every breath felt heavier as I reminded myself: It’s just a date. No
"So?" Jake raised an expectant brow, his eyes alight with anticipation. "You like it?" I chewed the venison, savoring the burst of flavor on my tongue, even as discomfort churned in my stomach. Swallowing, I glanced up. "You really gonna ask that about every dish I try?" Jake smiled sheepishly. "Maybe I just want everything to be perfect for you." Before I could answer, his hand reached out, covering mine. "I'm so glad you're here." Was I? Glad to be here? Not when I could feel Tristan’s gaze boring into me—suffocating tension thickened the air, heavy enough to slice with a knife. My stomach twisted. Our table was positioned just right—or wrong—so if I turned my head even slightly, I’d see him. And Tristan wasn’t making it easy to ignore. Like now. His eyes locked onto mine, unrelenting, before dropping to Jake's hand over mine. The glare that followed could’ve frozen hell over. I pulled my gaze back to Jake, forcing a smile. I didn’t want to be here. Being this close to Trist
**MYLES**"...If you think that's good, then you need to try this," Jake said when he was suddenly surrounded by three suited men, who loomed over him. "You'll need to come with us, sir," one of the men recited. "You're being detained for identity theft." My frown mirrored Jake's as I looked up at the men, who seemed to be closing in on our table with every second. "Uh," Jake began, an uncertain wry smile on his face as he looked from me to the men, "Is this a joke?" He laughed again. "It’s a joke, right?" The men didn’t look like they were joking. "Sir, we'd like for you to step outside." Jake’s laughter faded as he realized the suited men weren’t playing around. He glanced at me, his face contorting with confusion, then back at the men, who had stepped closer, their presence suffocating the space between us. "Woah." Jake rose quietly, as if careful not to draw attention, though it was already too late. "What identity theft? You don’t even know my name." "Jake Carter,"
**DOMENICO** [Third Person] Above the restaurant, behind the glass walls, Domenico sat on a sofa, watching his nephew stand behind the boy. A boy he'd seen in pictures, but now here, in the flesh. His hands clenched into fists against the arm of the chair, his pulse pounding with heat racing through his veins. What were the odds? “He still isn’t picking up,” Connor’s voice broke the silence, drawing closer. Domenico could feel the concern in his tone. “You shouldn’t have come here yourself.” Domenico stood, running a hand through his hair, trying to blink away what he'd just seen. So much for a fucking transactional relationship. He poured himself a drink, raised the glass to his lips—and then hurled it across the room. Rage clouded his gaze as the glass shattered into a thousand glittering shards beneath the blood-red lights above. He knew. He always knew when something was going wrong, when all his hard work teetered on the edge of ruin. The boy—Myles, or whatever the f
Hiiii. Blue Haze here. When I started this book, I had no clue where it would drag me — or how deep I’d fall with it. The fact that my first step into this chaos found even a shred of success? Still shocking. But none of it would’ve meant anything without every single one of you. The story isn’t over. There will be a Book Two — and no, I still don’t know if Myles is breathing or rotting (but if you’ve made it this far with me😏, you know hope is a dangerous thing). Thank you for the likes, the comments, and the Gems — they were the only reason I kept going when the story got too...loud. --- BOOK 2 SYNOPSIS Tristan Medici has two goals: burn his uncle’s empire to ash and stand once more on the rooftop where his entire world bled out dead. He was close. Too close. Until the news came — a revelation so impossible, so gutting, it made him want to rip apart the only person he’s ever truly loved. But that was then — when life still held a little innocence...high school. This is no
"...breaking news tonight from St. Augustine Hospital regarding the tragic death of the only son of a local worker. Authorities have confirmed that Astor, 19, fell from the rooftop of this very hospital late last night in what officials are calling an apparent suicide....”More ramblings from the reporter on TV, words I can barely register. I feel like a husk, a husk full of nothingness... as though my soul had been snapped into two.El Refugio is a kaleidoscope of colors; I can barely see the Boss through bloodshot eyes. He shouldn’t be standing this close to me, knowing what I could do.But it seemed as though he understood, for he had his goons surround my chair, while Al sits beside me, watching closely.It was Al who’d broken the news, the first person I saw after I revived in that white, empty room that contained only a bed and the drip attached to my wrist.Ripping it out didn’t hurt as much as it should. The excess bleeding didn’t kill me. Ripping off the soft wallpaper and po
MYLES What more do you have to lose before you realise it isn't meant to be...Myles... your mum is gone... her heart failed and...'...You should have left me there, why do you have to bring me out...''I'm sorry.''...What are you doing...''Retribution.'I'm at the center of her ward, shoulders slumped, staring at the empty hospital bed as if she might still be here, and all I needed to do was just wait and soon I'll be hearing her voice...Carino, are you okay, Carino...But... she's gone.I knew it before the mayor said it. The way he had clenched at the wheel, his voice when he cursed, hollow and weak, with every word he dropped, it lost meaning.I should have sensed it sooner though, when Diego dropped all of those cryptic words before he pulled the trigger on his own self. It was all because of this.Retribution."Sir," the nurse beside me breaks the silence, the pity in her eyes looking at me frozen on the floor, "You need to get treated."I looked back at the bed, feeling m
*You first.*I shut my eyes. I think of my mum, Tristan, and Jade, wishing I’d actually spent my time with them instead of hiding away like a maniac. Maybe in another life…Another bang. I stay still, waiting for the pain to hit, but once again, it doesn’t. I’m still on the floor, brows knitting in confusion, listening to grunts, fists slamming hard against skin, muscle, and bone—then curses. One voice sounded like…Diego?I opened my eyes, and there he was—my stepfather, right on top of Connor. The gun was out of reach beside them, and Diego’s fists slammed hard against Connor’s face. It hit me then—Diego was a burly man, something I never really noticed before.Did he come to save me? Pigs couldn’t fly though, so I had to be dreaming…“Get off me, swine,” Connor struggled, but either Diego’s sudden rage was overpowering, or Connor was too dazed from all the beating.The gunfire outside resumed.“I told you,” Diego roared into Connor’s face, “I told you I was gonna get you if you dou
MYLESNo way out…The only window is barricaded with iron rods, ones I had desperately tried to pull down. But the air from the window gave me a clue as to where we really are — the salty scent of the ocean brushing past my nose.There’s nowhere to run to; the walls are thick. It’s been hours since I was left here, without anyone coming to check on me. Every time I hear footsteps, my heart skips, waiting for the lock to shift, but there’s nothing — just the sound of their footsteps retreating.I’m still groggy, so after hours of pacing, I’m seated at the far end of the room, watching the door, waiting for the last step I’d hear before it all goes blank.I wrap my arms around my knees, shutting my eyes. Mum… Was she okay? Hopefully, the mayor was there and wouldn’t let Diego move her.Perhaps she’d be alright… Perhaps I should think of myself and not Tristan. But I can’t stop — can’t stop wondering if staying away was the right choice. And now, like everything that involved me, he was
DOMENICO"Nico... Nico, what the hell are you doing? You know this won't work."Nico felt the cold chill run down his spine as the voice filtered into his ears, trying to infiltrate his numb senses."What do you know, brother?" he muttered, watching the smoke swirl up to the ceiling. "This isn't politics where you seduce your way into things."Nico stared at the city from his window. In Viktor's background, he could pick up the faint noise of traffic and his own car blazing down the road. He didn't need to be told he was being tracked.So predictable."Nico...""I can't get the memories out of my head." His voice was quiet, eyes on the light far away. "You used to drive so fast to get me out of trouble, arriving just seconds before I got my head blown off."Nico rubbed at his eyes, the silence on the other end of the line too loud. It settled — the ghost of another time, memories he couldn't even reach.He let out a small chuckle. "The bar fights, we used to do it together. Remember w
TRISTAN "Where the hell is the Boss?!" I growled, slamming my fist against the thick glass demarcation. "You fucking tell me where the Boss is right now!" But the goon keeping watch only took a long look in my direction, shook his head, and walked out the door. My throbbing fists clenched against the glass. This… all of this was frustrating. Being dragged here, Nico ignoring me, throwing me into this compartment that felt like a damn asylum… and worst of all, not knowing how Myles was faring. All of it fueled my pacing, my yelling—despite knowing no one could hear me. There was a telephone on the wall at my side, the only way to communicate with the outside. But in my rage and fear, I couldn’t think clearly. I’d tried pleading once, but the goons had looked straight through me, as if I were a ghost, before stepping out. There was no way to escape. This place didn’t even have windows. Punching the glass was useless—my knuckles had already begun to bleed. I raked my finge
TRISTANThe phone pressed to my ear wasn’t mine, but from it seeped my uncle’s voice. He sounded strange—void—and with every word he spilled, it dawned on me why there were three goons behind me, pressing a gun to the back of my head. "Follow them peacefully," the boss ordered. My brows hardened and knit together, my eyes narrowing at the florist, who kept giving us nervous glances, but not once did she reach for the phone to call the police. They had warned her… or she understood the atmosphere’s language and realized it was better to stay out of it. "Cut it out, Uncle," I gritted out, the flowers hanging loosely in my hold. "Can we do this later? After I take Myles to the hospital?" There was silence for seconds before his voice came on again. "Look back at the car, Tristan. Do you really think you're in a spot to negotiate right now?" What did he mean by—? Myles was staring at me, his jaw set, his eyes soft yet unreadable. Beside him, Jade was climbing out, her hand
EROSWhat was there to look at? Nothing interesting at all. Just his father strolling out of his brother's apartment, expression sullen and knuckles dripping blood that wasn't his.Guess there was a limit to the incompetency love makes you take. Sometimes you just get to hit your favorite things even when it hurts you.He was curious what his reaction would be when he found that thing dead.On the fence shrouded by tall trees, Eros watched his father wipe the blood off his hands. Then, flinging the hanky behind him, he turned to two of the goons, barking out orders.Eros pulled his hoodie up, eyes still a little drowsy from his escapade at Tristan's condo. He waited... patiently... any moment now.The old man's eyes scanned the house one last time. Then his phone rang, and he slipped into the car with his men, and the car sped off.Eros smiled... this was it.With a couple of moves, face mask set in place and the smooth, cold steel against him, he dropped down to the floor, still shro