Richard’s POV The moment I step into my mansion, I feel it; the storm brewing, waiting for me. Antonella stands in the middle of the room, with her arms folded, and fire burning in her eyes. She’s not holding Isabella this time, which means she has both hands free to throw at me if she gets reckless enough. Not that I’d let her. “Where the hell were you last night?” she seethes. “I waited for you, Ricardo. Even if you told me you weren’t coming I still waited like a fucking idiot. I waited for you to come home, but you never did!” I exhale, dragging a hand down my face. I do not have the patience for this. Not today. Not ever. I don’t stop walking. I don’t even look at her. I shrug off my jacket, tossing it onto the couch, ignoring the accusations flying at my back. “Where the fuck where you last night Ric?!” She yells, stepping into my path with her small frame. I brush past her, making my way towards the stairs. I’m done here. She steps in front of me again, blocking
Richard’s POV I need to get the fuck out of here. My hands are still shaking from the argument, and my jaw is aching from how hard I’ve been clenching it. Antonella started this shit. She pushed and pushed until I snapped. Now my daughter looks at me like I’m a monster. Like I’m the reason her mother is crying. Maybe I fucking am. I storm down to my wine cellar to grab my favorite whiskey—the one I only touch on special occasions. Apparently, my wife reminding me what a fucking failure I am counts. I don’t bother with a glass. I take a deep swig straight from the bottle.I need to fuck this anger away. And I know exactly where to go. I take my jacket from the chair I tossed it onto earlier.“Get the car ready, we’re leaving.” I bark at my driver as I step outside. “Take me to the other house.” The secret mansion. The place only a few know about. And the place where Lana is. As we drive, my thoughts spiral. I remember my last words to her. “Women like you don’t get to
Richard’s POV The walls take the bullet, not her. Never her.But Lana doesn’t know that. Not in the moment. Her whole body flinches, and her hands trembles as she presses herself further against the wall. Her breathing is ragged, and her chest is rising and falling like she can’t get enough air. Then the tears come, slipping down her cheeks, and I know, I fucking know she thinks I almost killed her and I don’t like it. Not the tears, not the way she shakes, not the way her lips tremble when she whispers, "Please don’t shoot again. I’ll dance, I’ll dance for you."A part of me is sickened by it. I don’t want her to do it because she’s scared. I want her to do it because she wants to, because she craves my attention, my control. But this isn’t what I wanted.I drag a hand over my face, rubbing my temples. "Stop crying, Lana."But she doesn’t. Her whimpers bothers me and I hate that it does. I step towards her, and she flinches. That makes me stop. Not because I’m afraid of what I’ll
Charles’s POV Lana is gone. Vanished into thin air, like she never existed. I’ve turned over every rock, searched every lead, and I still have nothing. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth. I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. I can’t keep obsessing over this. Days have passed, and I’m no closer to finding her. My job, my entire career has been slipping through my fingers while I’ve been chasing a ghost. My office, once buzzing with fresh cases and new assignments, has gone silent. Nothing from my superior, Martin. No major investigations landing on my desk. It’s as if I don’t exist. Is it because they don’t believe in me anymore? Or is it something more sinister? The Borrellis… the Inzaghis… Those two families have their claws in everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a hand in this, keeping me sidelined, making sure I stay out of their business. That won’t happen. If I can’t find Lana, then I’ll do the next best thing; I’ll bring those
Ricardo’s POVThe Wet n’ Wild club. Inside, I hear music and see bodies moving together under flashing neon lights. It’s the kind of place where power and indulgence collide, where men with too much money spend it on women who pretend to love them. And it belongs to Bianca Luigi. A woman of class and style. On the surface, she’s the epitome of elegance, the kind who dines with politicians and graces the covers of luxury magazines. But beneath that exterior, she’s just like the rest of us, doing dirty business in the shadows. I step inside, and within seconds, she spots me. From across the room, her hazel eyes meet mine with a smirk on her lips. She doesn’t wave or call me over, she just tilts her head slightly. I cross the room, brushing past barely clothed women, businessmen, and men who think they own the world simply because they paid for a table. Bianca remains seated, wearing an emerald silk dress that clings to her like it was made for her body alone. “To what do I owe t
Ricardo’s POVI watch as Lana's eyes dart around the private plane. She's a beautiful woman, there's no denying that. But there's also no denying the disdain in her eyes, like she's plotting her escape as we speak. I smirk as I take a sip of my whiskey still staring her down. She sat opposite me with a table dividing us.It’s the first time she’s left the secret mansion. The first time she’s stepped outside since she became mine. I knew she didn’t want to come, but what she wanted never mattered. She belongs to me, and if I decide she’s coming to Mexico, then she’s coming to Mexico.Still, she looks at me like if she had a vial of aconite in her hands, she wouldn’t hesitate to poison me. The thought of it makes me smirk. She’s always had fire, even when she was shackled in my world. And here? Outside my secret mansion, she’s burning hotter than ever.I take another sip of my drink, waiting to see if she’ll break the silence. But she doesn’t, so I do it."You know, Lana," I say. "I did
Ricardo’s POVThe suite is extravagant, the kind of luxury I am accustomed to. But I barely glance at it as I toss my jacket onto a chair and loosen my cuffs. It’s evening, and Lana has been silent since we got to Mexico. She sits on the vanity, pulling her hair free from its tie and brushing through it slowly. I watch her reflection in the mirror, I know what she’s thinking.I smirk. She hates being here with me. Hates being anywhere with me. But it doesn’t matter. I pull out my phone and dial my brother. "Hello, brother," Angelo greets. "Angelo," I say, "I’m in Mexico." "What? For what, Ricardo?" "I’ll fill you in later," I reply casually. "But tonight, I have somewhere important to be." "What is this about? I hope you’re not in some kind of trouble." I chuckle briefly. "No, brother. Don’t worry about me, okay?" My eyes shift towards the window. Then, I lower my voice. "Worry about the person following us." Angelo inhales. “Ricardo fucking Borrelli.”I smirk. "I want
Ricardo’s POVThe Marino Tigress Casino.The sound of chips clinking, dice rolling, and voices shouting in Spanish fills my ears as I adjust my cufflinks. I’m dressed in my finest suit. I have the envelope in my hands, the one containing the photos I’ve studied all damn day. Enzo. The places he stood, the games he played, the faces that were around him. Every detail has been plastered into my memory. Beside me, Lana looks exactly how I like her; hot, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. A dress that hugs her curves, heels that make her legs look even longer, and hair cascading down her shoulders. She is a woman built to tempt and ruin men. I grab her hand. "Come," I tell her. "Pretend like you’re happy to be here." “Oh and remember the plan. I walk, then you follow me afterwards. Copy?” “And what if I decide to run?" I smirk. "Ouu, I would love for you to try that." Lana exhales sharply, knowing she has no choice. She’s smart enough to know what’s at stake. I move through
Ricardo’s POVThe morning sunlight barely rose when I slide out of bed. Antonella is still asleep, tangled in the silk sheets, with her mouth slightly parted, and one arm stretched towards where I used to be. I don’t look back. I leave the house before the rest of the estate fully wakes. The guards outside are already alert. A few guards nod as I pass by, murmuring “sir,” but I give them nothing. My driver, a scrawny man with jittery eyes, pulls up just in time.“Sir,” he says breathlessly, stepping out of the car. “I came as soon as I could.”“Good,” I reply, already heading for the vehicle. “I need you to drive me somewhere.”“Where to, sir?”“My secret mansion.”He gives a tight nod. “Alright, sir,” and moves quickly to ready the car.Before I can reach it, one of the security guards rushes up to me, holding something out. An envelope. His face is pale, like he’s unsure if he should even be handing it to me.“Sir,” he calls out, slowing as he reaches me. “This was dropped at the f
Ricardo’s POVThe moment I step through the front doors of my mansion, I hear small noises, and the place is properly lit. Then, a soft pitter-patter races down the hallway.“Papà!”Gianna’s voice rings out before I even see her. She comes flying into my arms like a bullet wrapped in pink silk pajamas. I crouch slightly, catching her mid-air, lifting her high above my head.“There’s my Gianna,” I say, twirling her once.Her laughter fills the foyer, and for a brief second, everything ugly fades away. I pull her close, hugging her tight.Antonella watches from the archway, with her arms crossed, and her brows arched like daggers. She scoffs under her breath, loud enough to make her presence known.Then, the grandfather clock chimes eight times. “Alright, baby,” Antonella says, brushing invisible lint from her sleeve. “Bedtime. Off you go with Rosa.”Gianna’s face falls. “But I don’t wanna go to bed early…”I kneel slightly and smooth her hair back. “Oh, sweetheart,” I say gently. “I un
Charles' POVI toss my keys onto the marble counter and walk straight to the bedroom, not even bothering to take off my shoes. My body feels like deadweight, but it’s not just physical exhaustion, it’s everything else.Alma didn’t follow me back to the condo. I didn’t ask her to. She wouldn’t understand anyway. Not this.I drop onto the bed, with limbs heavy with fatigue, and my back flat against the mattress. The ceiling above me stares back blankly, just as silent as the thoughts swirling in my head. I can't stop replaying it, Lana. Her face when she looked at me. The embarrassment, fear and shame in her eyes. I need to get her out of that monster’s grip.No one would get it. Not Alma, no one. Only I know why I need to get Lana away from that monster. And it’s not even about her being my secret weapon. That bastard touched my tail the day he had me suspended from the force and smeared my name. He thought he won. But he hasn’t.I close my eyes. No—he won’t.I’ll get Lana back. I’ll
Ricardo’s POVThe private restaurant’s half-empty. I spot Angelo tucked in the far corner, already seated with a half-full glass of red wine in front of him. His shoulders are relaxed, too relaxed, which tells me something's up. I slide into the seat across from him and clear my throat. “What’s the matter?” Angelo raises a brow and smirks sarcastically. “Hello, brother. Thank you for asking how I’m doing this fine afternoon. I’m great, how are you doing?” I chuckle. “Oh, come on, Angelo. We just saw each other in Mexico. Do you really need me to roll out the pleasantries every time?” He shrugs and mutters, “No, but you could stop acting like the world’s ending every time we meet.” I shake my head. “Oh come on brother, isn’t the world already ending?” I give him a smirk, then I continue. “What’s the matter?” Angelo takes a slow sip from his glass before setting it down. “You remember that guy I told you about? The one that’s been following me?” “Yeah,” I nod. “You finally
Ricardo’s POVI finally get myself together. The dull pain in my groin reminds me that Antonella has no limits when she’s pissed. I straighten my blazer, wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb, and step out of the car.I step through the front doors, and the first sight that greets me isn’t one I expect. Antonella is seated on the couch, holding Isabella in her arms; our youngest, sleeping peacefully like she has no idea her parents are inches away from destruction.Beside her stands the maid, looking awkward as hell, and across the room, standing near the staircase, is Gianna. My Gigi.She doesn’t run to me. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t light up like she usually does. She just stares at me with those big eyes like she’s looking at a complete stranger.Something inside me snaps quietly. Antonella’s eyes find mine, and her stare says everything. Of course. Of course this is happening. Of course my daughter looks at me like she doesn’t know me.Antonella’s gaze is full of disdain, a silent
Angelo’s POVThe warehouse smells like rust and old blood. It always does. This is the same warehouse where I kept the guy who murdered our loan shark. Back when he was crying about keeping all his fingers. I step inside to see him already waiting, shifting on his feet like he is standing on hot coals. He gives a weak smile when he sees me, then straightens up and puffs out his chest like it would help.“Mr. Angelo,” he says,with his hands twitching nervously. “I—uh—I did what you said.”I cross my arms. “Go on.”He pulls a folder from his coat and hands it over. “You asked me to multiply by five half of the 570 million. I turned that into 855 million.”I flip through the file. Numbers, transfers, dummy corporations. The man has done his homework. I whistle low. “You tripled it.”He nods whilst swallowing hard. “Yes, sir. I—uh—wanted to impress you.”I look up, smirking. “You did good, man. But it’s not enough.”His face drops like I had slapped him. “I—I know. I know,” he stammers.
Charles’s POVWe’re in the car, heading to the airport. My thoughts have been looping, clawing at the same image. Lana with Ricardo Borrelli, dressed like a slut.Alma speaks first. “I still can’t believe you saw Lana with Ricardo.”I shake my head. “I still can’t believe it myself. A part of me hates myself, Alma. For being so fucking lackadaisical in the search for her. I should’ve put in more effort. I should’ve known she was with the enemy.”Alma reaches across the seat and rubs my shoulder gently, like I’m some wounded animal. “It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known. No one would have guessed.”I lean into the headrest, staring out at the traffic like it’ll give me answers. “I should’ve. You know, if Davida’s men hadn’t screwed up, if those bullets had gone through that door like they were supposed to, Lana would’ve been dead. Gone. And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”“But she’s not,” Alma says quickly. “She’s alive.”“You don’t get it,” I snap. “And I’m not ready
Angelo’s POVThe next morning, Lana and I drive in silence. The kind of silence that isn’t peaceful, just filled with everything neither of us wants to say first.I keep my eyes on the road. The jet isn’t far now. Twenty minutes, give or take. After that, I don’t know what comes next. Hell, maybe I don’t want to.She is the one to break it, the silence. Of course she is.“What are you gonna do?” Her voice is soft.I don’t answer.“What’s your brother planning?”I suck my teeth, annoyed, and keep my eyes forward. She doesn’t back down.“Please, Angelo,” she says, “tell me. I heard him last night, talking to that cop guy—Charles. He told him to let Señor Davida know he owes him. And he wasn’t talking about money.”Still, I say nothing. Her voice is starting to grate, and not because it is loud but because it is right.“You already know what he’s gonna do,” I mutter.“No,” she says firmly, “I don’t.”I tighten my grip on the wheel. “He’s going to kill someone.”The car goes even quieter,
Charles’s POVAs I walk through the foyer of Señor Davida’s mansion, my mind is on a spiral. My hands clench at my sides, and my jaw aches from how tight I’m holding it. Lana’s alive.All this time, she’s alive and well. And Ricardo fucking Borrelli has her. After all this time, the worry, the guilt… she’s been alive. For months. Months that I could’ve had her back. Months that that bastard Ricardo Borrelli had her.I feel sick. I don’t even want to imagine what he’s done to her. He’s got her dressed up like a slut, parading her around like a possession, calling her his slut like she’s nothing more than a goddamn toy.That image of Ricardo touching her, owning her, breaking her, it makes me want to kill something. I wonder how many times Ricardo has fucked her. How many times he’s laid claim to what was never his to take.I am pissed. How the fuck did Ricardo get his hands on Lana? There was no way, no fucking way, Ricardo could’ve linked Lana to what happened to him. I was careful. I