"Where are you, Francis?" Max inquired, a hint of impatience in his tone. Francisco's response was unexpected, and Max's eyes grew heavy and droopy as he tried to process it. "I'm lying in bed," came the answer, the words tinged with an unusual weariness. Max was bewildered. "In bed? Aren't you coming here?" He asked, his confusion apparent. "What?" Max muttered in a startled manner. "Are you alright?" His voice trembled with a mixture of surprise and worry, unable to fathom the sudden change in Francisco's demeanor. Francisco remained silent for a moment, leaving Max hanging in suspense. Then, in a voice that was unsettlingly calm, Francisco revealed his disturbing instructions. "Push him anti-seizure drugs before tossing him in front of his boss's house." "I know what to do now," Max replied. "But are you okay, or are you with Emily now?" He sought some clarity, hoping to understand the source of this disturbing change in his friend's character. Francisco's response was t
Diana turned her face away from Max, her gaze avoiding his. The aftermath of their intense moment had left them both emotionally charged, and she couldn't bear to look at him. In a calm yet resolute tone, she spoke, "Max, you have blood all over you. Don't touch me." Max, realizing the gravity of her words, slowly released his grip on her waist, allowing her the space she needed to gather herself. Diana began to dress and fix her hair with meticulous care, trying to regain her composure. In a moment of vulnerability, Max couldn't help but voice the question that had been gnawing at him. He asked, his voice quiet, "Why are you torturing me like this?" The intensity of his feelings was evident, and he longed for clarity and understanding. Diana, her emotions still swirling beneath her composed exterior, breathed deeply and responded with a hint of haughtiness. "You know what I want. If you can do it, I will come back into your life." Max absorbed her words in silence, his eyes betray
The sleek black car came to a sudden halt in front of a magnificent gate, its intricate craftsmanship a testament to the opulence that lay beyond. This was the mansion of James, yet another titan of the business world who, like Francisco, concealed a hidden identity. Behind his public façade, James was an underworld mafia figure, expertly shielding his criminal persona behind the veil of his legitimate enterprises. As the car pulled up, the tension inside the vehicle was palpable. The mansion's guards, dressed in sharp suits and vigilant as ever, immediately noticed the intruder. Bruce was thrown out of the moving car. Their eyes narrowed in suspicion as they realized a disheveled and injured man was sprawled at the gate. Before they could spring into action, the car abruptly accelerated, leaving Bruce behind in its dust. One of them shouted, "Mr. Bruce!" The guards approached, their concerns mounting as they noticed the visible signs of physical trauma etched across Bruce's body.
In the heart of the police station, Freddie dashed into Rafael's chamber, his breath ragged and anticipation in his eyes. He clutched something that seemed to be a treasure, and with a sense of urgency, he presented it to his superior. "Sir, we located this nearby," Freddie explained, a hint of excitement in his voice. Rafael, the seasoned detective, raised an eyebrow and accepted the item Freddie handed him. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the image or document presented before him, searching for clues or context that might explain its significance. The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension as the unknown secret within the document loomed large. Freddie leaned closer to Rafael, his voice lowering in a conspiratorial tone. "But, sir, there is top-secret information," he emphasized. Rafael, his curiosity piqued, wiggled his eyebrows, and asked, "What is this top-secret information?" Freddie hesitated for a moment, building the suspense, before finally revealing the revelat
In the dimly lit bedroom, the air was heavy with the acrid scent of cocaine as James and two girls indulged in their vices. The illicit drug coursed through their veins, creating a momentary illusion of ecstasy. As James snorted a line of cocaine, he closed his eyes, lost in the euphoria of the moment. For a fleeting instant, it felt as if he had ascended to heaven. The room was designed for indulgence, with a carefully curated atmosphere. Soft, soothing music played in the background, and the dim lighting created an ambiance of decadence. The girls, with their own eyes half-lidded and bodies swaying, were captivated by the hedonistic escape. But the illusion was shattered abruptly by an insistent knock on the door. James' eyes snapped open, and his expression transformed from one of bliss to one of irritation. The grating voice that accompanied his narrowed eyes cut through the intoxicating haze that had enveloped the room. "What?" James asked with a sharp edge to his voice. He gla
"Actually, we need to ask questions regarding..." Freddie found himself on the verge of revealing the true reason for their visit. He began to speak, his words teetering on the edge of disclosing the incident they were there to discuss. But at that crucial moment, Rafael intervened with a firm command, "I am talking, Freddie." Rafael's interruption was a calculated move, a recognition of the need to tread carefully in the presence of James, a man known for his cunning and astute nature. James, for his part, responded with a sidelong glance but remained silent, his eyes revealing nothing. Rafael, taking control of the conversation, chose to unveil the true purpose of their visit. "Actually, we are here to discuss a case of women's trafficking," he declared, his words direct and unambiguous. The room held its collective breath, the weight of the accusation hanging heavily in the air. James responded with a mask of sadness. His expression was one of disbelief as he questioned the imp
Max was about to say, "But, Francisco..."But Francisco halted him with a stern look and said, "Max, it has to be done now." The tension in the room was palpable, and all the other members were anxiously watching the exchange.Then he looked at the other members, everyone quickly shook their heads in agreement. Liam spoke up, "Yes, Mr. Hilton is right. We are capable of doing it." He, too, shared Francisco's urgency.Francisco, their team leader, rose and spoke with a sense of determination, "Max, we need to go in order to inspect the chemical factory."Max, understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded before standing. They were on the brink of a crucial mission, and they couldn't afford any delay.But suddenly, the room was disrupted by a girl's voice, a voice that did not belong to anyone from their team."May I come in, sir?"The unexpected interruption startled everyone in the room. Francisco turned his attention to the door, and as he spotted the girl, he just froze in his
Hazel's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden directive. Without hesitation, she noticed the other team members swiftly exiting the room, leaving her alone with Francisco.Max interjected before he left, "He will do your interview, Ms. He only asked us to depart."Max's parting words left Hazel slightly perplexed. As he left the room with a confident smile, Hazel turned her attention back to the CEO, who remained focused on her.The door closed, leaving them in a silence that hung heavily in the air.The situation was undeniably awkward. Hazel offered a small, nervous smile but remained silent, unsure of how to navigate the strange circumstances.Suddenly, without warning, Francisco moved forward, slowly closing the distance between them. Hazel's heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. She couldn't comprehend what was happening or what Francisco had in mind.The man standing in front of her exuded an aura of charisma and allure, like a Greek god brought to life. Hazel's e
The room fell silent again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Dimitri, unbothered by Hazel’s sharp retort, simply smiled at her, his composure as smooth as the wine he swirled in his glass.“Ah, then it must be the sweetest regret for you,” Dimitri said, taking a sip of his drink. His voice carried a mocking lilt. “Just imagine—you’re sleeping with one of us every night.”Hazel’s expression hardened, her face a mask of controlled fury.Dimitri leaned back in his chair, sneering, “How helpless you are. Isn’t it fascinating?”The words struck a nerve, driving home the oppressive reality of her situation. Dimitri had skillfully highlighted her vulnerability, reminding her of the sheer powerlessness she felt among people who thrived on corruption and violence. Hazel could feel the weight of every eye on her, and the humiliation was almost unbearable.Without a word, she yanked her hand free from Francisco’s grip. Her voice was firm, yet laced with barely concealed frustration,
Francisco didn’t react immediately. His sharp gaze fixed on Dimitri’s hand for a long moment, as if calculating every possible outcome of this exchange. Then, finally, he reached out and clasped Dimitri’s hand in his own. The handshake was firm, neither man willing to back down, their locked hands a silent battle of wills.“I am sorry for my unprofessional attitude,” Dimitri said smoothly, his tone carrying a hint of insincerity as their hands finally parted. His smirk never wavered."So, how are you?" Dimitri asked, his voice light, though his eyes glinted with something sharper. "How’s life been treating you all these years?"Francisco pressed his lips together briefly, raising his brows in acknowledgment before answering curtly. "It’s going well."Dimitri nodded, his smile remaining as he leaned forward slightly, folding his arms.“I see,” he said, his voice casual, though the room seemed to tighten around his words.“Yeah, normally it would be good. After all, you’ve been... killi
They soon reached a secluded area where several high-ranking clan members were gathered around a grand table, each one deep in conversation. James, Lilith, and Ron—son of the Wolf Clan boss—sat among them, each turning their attention as Francisco and Hazel approached. The atmosphere here was different; there was a tension woven into the room’s decor and the careful way everyone held themselves. Conversations halted momentarily, eyes shifting toward them with mixed expressions.Francisco’s gaze swept over the group, searching. He noted familiar faces, but one key figure was missing.Dimitri!The room fell silent as Francisco and Hazel stepped into the circle. The clan members’ conversations came to an abrupt halt, their gazes shifting toward the pair.Francisco eased into a seat on the plush couch, pulling Hazel down beside him. His expression was calm, but Hazel could feel the undercurrent of tension in his movements.Lilith, seated nearby, took a sharp breath, her face hardening. He
Without a word, Hazel opened the car door and slid inside, leaving the two men standing in a charged silence. Francisco took a slow step closer to Arthur, his gaze flicking to the car window where Hazel sat, her eyes cast elsewhere. Then he turned back to Arthur, his tone low and deliberate.“Arthur,” he said quietly, “I trust you’ll remember your boundaries.”The statement was calm, almost conversational, but laced with an unmistakable edge.Arthur swallowed, feeling the weight of Francisco’s gaze.“Boss, I…” He stammered, struggling to explain, though he knew words wouldn’t change what Francisco had seen.Francisco’s gaze sharpened.“I saw everything, Arthur. Now consider, what if it happens again next time, then?”His tone was laced with an unspoken warning, leaving no room for misinterpretation.Arthur’s throat went dry, and he forced himself to respond.“I… understand, sir. And if there’s any punishment…”He hesitated, glancing up briefly before returning his eyes to the ground.
Francisco seemed to hesitate, just for a moment, before his face softened, and an almost imperceptible shift took place in his demeanor. He touched her cheek with his nose, slowly, gently.Then, he moved closer, pressing his lips against her skin in a slow, almost tender gesture.The moment was brief. As quickly as it began, Francisco released his grip, pulling away from her body. He stood there, staring down at her, his chest still rising and falling with quick breaths.Hazel took a steadying breath, shifting her gaze away from Francisco as she wrestled with the storm inside her. His words, his actions—everything about him sickened her, and she knew she could never forgive him. He had taken everything from her, shattering the life she once had. Now, she was nothing more than a prisoner in his world, bound by his relentless will.He wanted her to bear his child, to lock her in this prison forever. That, she vowed, would never happen. She would find a way, at any cost, to make sure she
Francisco and Hazel were close, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Hazel traced her fingers along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. She moved with confidence, leaning in to press her lips to his earlobe and then sliding her hands down to his abs, pushing his shirt aside. Francisco let her take the lead.Settling onto his lap, Hazel wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips pressing softly along his jaw and then his neck. She took her time, her fingers exploring his chest, tracing lines along his muscles as though savoring every detail. Francisco watched her, feeling his heart race as she kissed him, giving him a playful bite on his lower lip. She was in control, and he was okay with it.Francisco closed his eyes, exhaling a low sigh as she brushed her hand over his chest, her fingers teasing against his skin. He threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her closer, a silent invitation for her to continue.She moved slowly, her kisses trailing down his chest as sh
Francisco stood behind the sofa, watching Hazel as she lounged comfortably, legs stretched out to claim the entire space. Her silent message was clear—she wasn’t giving him any room, and she wasn’t going to make this easy.He took a slow, steadying breath. Hazel’s defiance was like a game to her, a dance of control and challenge, and while it was often silly, it sometimes gnawed at his patience.Without a word, he stepped around the sofa, his presence looming close, yet she didn’t so much as glance his way. Instead, her attention remained fixed on the TV, as if he were merely part of the scenery.With a firm but gentle grip, Francisco took hold of her legs, the unexpected touch finally drawing her gaze up to him. He didn’t hesitate, lowering himself onto the sofa and placing her legs across his lap, his fingers grazing over her skin, smooth and warm beneath his touch.Hazel took a deep breath, keeping it measured, as if not wanting to reveal any reaction. They sat in silence, the soft
“Are you having a meeting?” Hazel’s voice was light, feigning innocence as she tilted her head and looked at Francisco.Francisco’s grip on the edge of the laptop tightened, his knuckles whitening. His expression was steely, though he nodded curtly, lips pressed together. “Yes,” he replied, his tone clipped. “But I think it’s best I end it.”Hazel’s hand slipped over his, her fingers tracing gentle patterns as she let out a low, teasing laugh. “Oh, no need,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Leaning in, her lips barely an inch from his ear, she whispered, “We can pick up where we left off… after your meeting, honey.”Then, without warning, she brushed her lips across his jaw, lingering there before flicking her tongue against his neck in a swift, provocative gesture. Her breath was warm against his skin, leaving him stunned. She straightened, smiling at his speechless expression, and sauntered off without a backward glance.The meeting room on the laptop had fallen int
“Let’s get this over with,” Lucas muttered, his hand resting on the gun beneath his jacket.Max scanned the area with a quick, calculating glance. His gaze lingered on the shadows stretching under the skeletal beams of the half-constructed building. He nodded to the men they’d brought along. “Time to make this quick. We’ve got another job lined up after this.”They climbed the stairs in silence, the distant hum of machinery barely muffling the echo of their footsteps. The building rose fifteen stories high, though most floors were little more than concrete and rebar. On the third floor, they found a dimly lit corner where a yellowish bulb cast a sickly glow over a makeshift table. Around it stood four men, their faces shadowed, expressions hidden. One man, however, sat in the center, his face partially obscured by the dark.Max and Lucas walked to the table. Max took the empty chair across from the man, settling in with a practiced ease, crossing one leg over the other. Lucas remaine