The sun had hardly risen beyond the horizon, leaving golden lines like spilled honey across the sea. A gentle breeze fluttered the white linen drapes of the villa and ruckled the palm leaves over the island. Barefoot, Dysis stood at the brink of the balcony, her honey-brown hair falling in loose waves down her back. The air smelt seawater and orchids, combining with the warmth of sun-kissed stone. Her eyes shining with mischief and sunset-colored wonder, she turned towards the sea.She’d found a red bikini tucked neatly inside a drawer packed by Alexander, though he’d claimed otherwise and without hesitation, slipped it on. Rich and strong on her soft, brilliant skin, it hugged her body as if it had been designed for her. Her contours shined like sun-lit polished pearls. Her hips swung softly as she strolled down to the shore, feet sliding into the warm, powdered sand. She laughed as she walked further into the sea; it lapped at her toes, chilly and mocking. There was no one else he
Sunlight flooded the room from the large windows in golden beams that softly painted delicate patterns on the white blankets. Like a pulse resonating through the villa, the ocean murmured far away, slow and steady. A breeze swept the flimsy drapes, and the air smelt of sea salt and vanilla, mixed with the subtle warmth of skin and something else entirely fresh and electrifying. Alexander hovered above her, muscles taut, breath shallow. He was no longer the untouchable man she first met. Right now, he looked raw, almost undone. It was dark and wet, and his navy swim shorts stuck to his hips. They showed every bit of stress in his body. He didn't blink or move his eyes.They were locked on her like he was memorizing a masterpiece. Dysis lay beneath him, her body still damp, glistening in the sunlight like she was made of moonlight and fire. Her red bikini clung to her skin like a second layer, the strings slightly loose now from their kiss. She was breathless.She shook her head back a
"Do you think your tears are important to me?" I knelt in front of my father, shaking, the cold cement floor soaking into my knees as I attempted to swallow the sob that had stuck in my throat. As usual, his remarks pierced me deeply. His words filled the little, darkened room, brimming with disdain. For as long as I could remember, I had been forced to live this existence, and every beat of my heart served as a reminder of it.I didn’t look up at him. I couldn’t. His cruel eyes were too much to bear. Too much to endure. “Answer me!” His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my hair and jerking my head up. The pain stung, but it wasn’t new. Nothing he did was new anymore. He’d punished me in ways I couldn’t count, but today was different. Today, it wasn’t just my body he was angry with; it was my existence. “Why won’t you ever listen?” His breath reeked of whiskey, and his fingers tightened, pulling me painfully closer. “You’re worthless, just like your mother. A disappointment. A bur
Like a drumbeat marching towards my demise, the sound of heavy footsteps reverberated in the confined hallway, methodical and harsh. Something like panic replaced my father's customary arrogant confidence as his gaze darted towards the doorway. I saw a small tightening of his jaw, although it was subtle. The man who walked into the room caught me off guard. He was tall, and his broad shoulders were encircled by a sleek black suit that radiated might and riches. The way his icy-blue eyes scanned the room made me feel vulnerable, like if he could see into every dark corner of my life in an instant. His presence filled the room like a rising storm, and not a single strand of his dark hair was out of place. Levi Alexander. Although I had heard the name, I didn't know him. Everybody had. He was more than simply a man; among the city's shadowiest nooks and crannies, he was a legend. A mafia boss who used brutality and terror to establish his empire.And now, he was here. “Mr. Levi,” my fat
“You’ll like her,” my father said, his voice a blend of forced confidence and desperation. “She’s obedient. Quiet. A real prize, Mr. Levi.”My ears rang, his words fading into noise as the room closed in on me. My claws pushed into the tattered fabric of my skirt, and my pulse raced like a frantic drum in my chest. Obedient. Quiet. I felt like I was just a commodity to be weighed and exchanged. Alexander Levi did not respond soon away. He stood in the centre of the room, his back straight and his posture tight, emanating might and danger. His icy-blue eyes moved between my father and me, appraising the situation with a coolness that made him even more horrifying. "Is that what you think of her?" he finally questioned, his tone distant. He didn't look at me as he talked, as if I didn't deserve to be addressed directly. “A prize?”My father chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands together. “She’s young and strong. She can be molded, taught. Whatever you need her to be.”A wave of nausea h
My frantic breaths were drowned out as the sleek black automobile rushed forward, its engine roaring to life. I was now flanked by the men who had pulled me from the house, their features blank and austere. My heart hammered so fiercely I thought it may bruise my ribs, and my wrists hurt where their clutches had been too tight.My father’s house, my prison, disappeared in the rearview mirror. I didn’t look back. What was there to see? The only home I’d ever known had betrayed me, just as its walls always had. But this wasn’t freedom. This was something worse. The man sitting to my left adjusted his cufflinks, his silence unnerving. “Where are you taking me?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I expected given the panic roaring through me. Neither of them answered. “Hey!” I forcefully pressed my hand against the partition that separated us from the driver. "Where are we heading?"The driver didn’t so much as flinch. My pulse thundered. I looked between the two men and swallowed hard
I stood at the entrance of the Levi mansion, the towering structure casting a shadow over me that seemed to swallow every ounce of light. The grandiose double doors that had once seemed to promise safety now felt like the mouth of some deep, hungry abyss, waiting to consume me whole. As Vee led me through the grand hall, I couldn’t help but notice the stark difference between the mansion’s imposing exterior and its lavish interior. The floors were polished to a mirror finish, gleaming in the flickering light of a dozen ornate chandeliers. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and priceless works of art, but none of it made me feel safe. It all felt… wrong. Every inch of it screamed power, control, and isolation.Vee walked ahead of me without looking back, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her silence made my pulse race. I wanted to speak, to ask questions, but what was the point? What could I say that would change anything? The door to my new room wa
The massive doors of the Levi mansion creaked open, echoing through the vast area. A shiver ran through me as I entered, with Alexander's figure trailing behind me like an inescapable specter. As I absorbed the magnificence of the scene—tall ceilings adorned with intricate mouldings, marble floors shimmering in the gentle glow of chandeliers, and walls featuring dark wood paneling that radiated affluence and authority—my heart tightened. However, the luxury did not comfort me; it stifled me. This was more than a mansion—it was a golden cage. “Come with me,” Alexander's voice was deep, nearly a growl, as he motioned to the grand staircase. His voice was authoritative, not a suggestion. I felt uncertain. The thought of trailing him anywhere seemed like yielding to his power, which I wasn’t prepared to accept. My legs felt anchored to the marble floor. He paused in his stride, his sharp icy-blue gaze fixating on me. “I don’t say the same thing twice, Dysis.” My name felt odd when h
Sunlight flooded the room from the large windows in golden beams that softly painted delicate patterns on the white blankets. Like a pulse resonating through the villa, the ocean murmured far away, slow and steady. A breeze swept the flimsy drapes, and the air smelt of sea salt and vanilla, mixed with the subtle warmth of skin and something else entirely fresh and electrifying. Alexander hovered above her, muscles taut, breath shallow. He was no longer the untouchable man she first met. Right now, he looked raw, almost undone. It was dark and wet, and his navy swim shorts stuck to his hips. They showed every bit of stress in his body. He didn't blink or move his eyes.They were locked on her like he was memorizing a masterpiece. Dysis lay beneath him, her body still damp, glistening in the sunlight like she was made of moonlight and fire. Her red bikini clung to her skin like a second layer, the strings slightly loose now from their kiss. She was breathless.She shook her head back a
The sun had hardly risen beyond the horizon, leaving golden lines like spilled honey across the sea. A gentle breeze fluttered the white linen drapes of the villa and ruckled the palm leaves over the island. Barefoot, Dysis stood at the brink of the balcony, her honey-brown hair falling in loose waves down her back. The air smelt seawater and orchids, combining with the warmth of sun-kissed stone. Her eyes shining with mischief and sunset-colored wonder, she turned towards the sea.She’d found a red bikini tucked neatly inside a drawer packed by Alexander, though he’d claimed otherwise and without hesitation, slipped it on. Rich and strong on her soft, brilliant skin, it hugged her body as if it had been designed for her. Her contours shined like sun-lit polished pearls. Her hips swung softly as she strolled down to the shore, feet sliding into the warm, powdered sand. She laughed as she walked further into the sea; it lapped at her toes, chilly and mocking. There was no one else he
The private estate was cloaked in silence, the kind that warned of danger long before it arrived. Cormac Carter stood before the large fireplace, the flames low as shadows moved along the stone walls. Under his fitted suit, his broad shoulders were stiff; his silver-streaked hair slid back precisely. From his fingers, unbroken, a crystal glass of aged bourbon hung. One of his guys stopped at the threshold behind him and started to shift uneasily. “Say it again”, Cormac said, his voice low and icy, slanted with poison. The man swallowed. “Dysis Salmon... She's the heiress to the Everhart bloodline. Confirmed. The Levi heir married her. She’s with Alexander now.” Cormac turned slowly, his eyes glinting with restrained fury. “So,” he muttered, stepping toward the man, “the girl promised to my nephew… was stolen. Claimed. Not just by anyone but by Alexander Levi.” He crushed the glass in his palm, shards falling like ice. “And he killed Max.” The words hissed from his mouth like
Dysis lay curled into the curve of Alexander’s body, the steady thud of his heart on her cheek grounding her in a moment that felt much too delicate for the world they lived in. Her waist had slipped the blanket, and the silky sheets twisted around them while the storm outside murmured against the windows. Her voice broke the silence. Soft. Hesitant. “Where’s my mother?” Alexander’s fingers paused where they were threading gently through her hair. “I told her to leave,” he said calmly. Dysis pulled back just enough to look up at him, confusion flickering in her tired eyes. “What? Why?” “I thought you wouldn’t mind me sending her away,” Alexander said, watching her reaction closely. “She was the reason you passed out.” Her breath hitched. “But I just…” “Don’t cry again.” His voice became light-hearted, his lips curving slightly as he looked away from her. "I was only kidding." "I wasn't going to cry," She said, but her pink cheeks backstabbed her. He mocked, his tone lamp
Back to the Present For hours the rain had not ceased. From outside, the heavens softly wept against the windows, drops on glass-like fingers. The polished floor had a muted orange glow as the fire in the sitting room burned to embers. Dysis folded her legs under her and laid a blanket sloppily across her lap on the velvet chaise. She was not warmed by it. Not really. Her mind was too full, too heavy. Adam sat across from her. No longer the towering, untouchable patriarch. Just a man with tired eyes and a voice thick with regret. “So,” Dysis said quietly, almost afraid to say it aloud, “you knew Lili tried to have Alexander killed?” Adam’s eyes dropped to the rug. His jaw clenched. “Yes.” Dysis sat up straighter, her heart suddenly pounding. “And you did nothing?” “I confronted her,” Adam replied. His voice was hoarse, rough from unsaid things. “I let her know I was aware of her schemes. I spared her… for Silver and Giselle’s sake.” Dysis blinked. That was it? "That's all
The room still hadn’t moved. Not really.Time seemed to bend under the weight of what it signified as Adam Levi announced his second son the successor to the empire. As if the house had stopped to listen, dust particles floated slowly through a shaft of afternoon sunlight, and the crackle of the fire in the hearth got louder in the silence.But the true silence came from Lili.She had said nothing at all. Her fingers, coated in a frost-toned gloss, shook slightly on the stem of her crystal wine glass. It was still full. She hadn’t taken a single sip all evening.She couldn’t.Not with him in the room.Not with Alexander sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, draped in that black wool coat with silver stitching like it had been sewn by ghosts. The candlelight danced across the crest on his hand—the Levi sigil, glinting ominously with every breath he took.He didn’t speak.Didn’t gloat.Didn’t even flinch when Silver stormed out of the boardroom, his footsteps echoing like gunsh
Another year passed.And then another.Fourteen winters had clawed their way across the cliffs of the North before the gates opened again. The iron doors groaned like beasts roused from slumber, spilling out a silhouette wreathed in morning fog and silence.He walked like he owned the ground beneath him.Not like the boy who had entered.No—he was something else now.Alexander Levi’s hair had been trimmed close to the scalp, the inky black strands now neat, severe. His jawline cut clean, cheeks hollowed by years of discipline, hardship, and war. The softness of his childhood had been carved away, chiseled into something sharp. Lethal. Beautiful in a cold, brutal way.He wore a long black coat, the kind lined in silver thread at the collar, shoulders squared with the weight of command. His boots struck the earth like thunder. A ring glinted on his right hand—a crest of the North carved into it. The mark of survival.Not everyone earned it.But Alexander hadn’t just earned it.He’d owne
Adam Levi's office door creased as it swung open. The room was dark, only the orange glow of one desk lamp lighting it. From a half-burned cigar in a crystal ashtray, smoke coiled sloppily. Towering and loaded with ancient leather-bound volumes that smelt of dust, conflict, and tradition, bookshelves ran down the walls The air smelt strongly of cedarwood and ash, swallowing the faint winter trace coming from the window crevices. Silent Alexander entered, his bare feet soft against the smooth hardwood floor. He wore a big jumper that hung off one shoulder with sleeves engulfing his hands. He felt a breeze from the slightly ajar window, but he did not react. His experience with cold was one of adaptation. Adam turned his back on him. He stood behind his desk, wide back stiff under a dark suit. Under low light, the grey in his hair stood more clearly. With one hand he clutched a glass of bourbon, the ice clicking softly as he spun it. His other hand rested on a hefty, sealed, crimso
One Year Later The Levi estate stood silent, wrapped in fog and frost. The mansion, once alive with Rosie’s laughter and sunlight spilling through open windows, had grown cold—like something sacred had been buried inside its walls. A clock ticked softly somewhere in the distance. The fire in the parlor crackled, but it gave no warmth. Adam sat at the edge of his office desk. His hands were stained with oil and blood—both recent. Though the air was cold, his black shirt fit his back and hung with sweat. His tie disappeared from view on the floor next to a broken whisky tumbler. A long gash stretched across the side of his palm, still bleeding. He hadn’t spoken in hours. Not a word. The leather chair behind his desk remained untouched, like a throne he no longer deserved. He no longer ruled with strategy or calculation. He ruled with silence. With steel. With the kind of violence that didn’t end when justice was served—but hunted until it bled out everything. Every na