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
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 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
They say everyone has a debt to pay. Mine just happens to be my life. My name is Lana Denver, and for the past six years, I’ve lived in the shadows, gathering secrets, playing roles, and finding my way into the hearts of dangerous men. I’m not a cop, not a hero, and definitely not someone who sleeps easy at night. But what I am is a survivor—a survivor indebted to one man: FBI agent Charles Gregory.I remember flipping open yesterday’s newspaper, with my coffee on the counter. As always, his name was splashed across the headlines in bold letters.“FBI’s Golden Detective Cracks Another Case: Charles Gregory Stays One Step Ahead of Crime”I recall skimming through the article, already knowing what it will say:"Gregory’s instincts and exceptional dedication have once again led to a major breakthrough in a case that baffled authorities for months. Insiders at the Bureau describe him as a force to be reckoned with, a man who sees what others don’t. His latest victory is evidence of his u
Charles calls me his secret weapon, his golden ticket to taking down the worst criminals this city has to offer. They think he’s a genius, always a step ahead, but they don’t know it’s me who does the dirty work. The music in the car is barely audible over the sounds I’m making. Ricardo’s head is buried between my thighs, with his hands gripping my hips like he owns me, he is eating me out, leaving me gasping for air. My back arches against the seat, with my fingers tangled in his dark hair. I can’t stop the moans spilling from my lips, they were loud and shameless. Up front, the driver is uncomfortable, his eyes are fixed on the road, but when I let out another cry, he fumbles for his earbuds and jams them in, pretending we’re not even here. When the car slows and pulls into the driveway of a five-star hotel, my legs are trembling. Ricardo sits up, straightens his jacket like nothing happened, and steps out of the car. Cool. Composed. Utterly infuriating. I follow, adjusting m
Ricardo’s POVThe wail of sirens jolts me awake. My eyes snap open, and I sit up, the events of last night are still hazy in my mind. “Felicity,” I mutter, glancing at the other side of the bed. Empty. Fuck. I rake a hand through my hair, with the gravity of the situation settling in as the sirens grow louder outside. My jaw tightens, and my fists clench as I swing my legs out of bed. “That fucking bitch!!!”With anger, I throw the bedside lamp across the room and it shatters against the wall. My fists slam against the dresser, and the wood splinters under the force. The door to the bedroom opens up, and one of my men—Luca—rushes in, his face is pale and panicked. “Capo,” he says. “The police are here. They’ve surrounded the building. We need to evacuate you now.” I freeze for a moment, then I start thinking. Running? Like a pussy? No. That’s not who I am. “No,” I say. “I’m not running.” “But Capo—” I cut him off with a glare. “What do they want?” “They want to a
Ricardo’s POVThe next morning, the cell door opens, and I look up to see José, my lawyer, stepping inside. I motion for him to sit across from me at the small table bolted to the floor. The guards step out, giving us privacy, yet we keep our voices low. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “The walls are closing in. Tell me, José. What the fuck am I supposed to do?” José leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Ricardo, listen to me carefully. The only way out of this mess is to redirect the blame. Someone needs to take the fall.” “Redirect the blame? You want me to pin this on my fucking father-in-law? Are you out of your fuckung mind?” José doesn’t flinch at my hushed outburst. He meets my eyes. “Yes. It’s the only move we have. Ricardo, you’re innocent in this, remember? This entire kidnapping and trafficking operation belongs to your father- in- law, Mr. Inzaghi. He’s the one who pulled you into this shitstorm after that deal went wrong and you pissed him off. Thos
Charles’s POVI sit at the end of the conference table. Martins, my superior, leans back in his chair. He’s never been one to lose his temper with me, but today he looks like he’s seconds away from erupting. “We lost the grand jury hearing, Charles,” Martins says flatly. “Do you have any idea how much damage this does to our reputation?” I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay composed. “With all due respect, sir, we didn’t lose because of a lack of evidence. We lost because Ricardo Borrelli’s lawyer manipulated the system and bribed—” “Stop.” Martins raises a hand. “Do not make baseless accusations. We don’t have proof of bribery, and you know it.” Baseless accusations? I slam my fist on the table before I can stop myself. “We have everything we need, Martins. Surveillance footage linking Borrelli’s vehicles to the safe house. Financial records showing cash drops that don’t match his business earnings. Witness testimony from all 35 girls who pointed to his father-in-law, Inza
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
Lana’s POVCharles still has his eyes on me. The disbelief on his face is unmistakable, like he’s trying to piece together whether I’m real or some cruel trick his mind is playing on him.I snivel as I quickly dry the tears from my eyes and look away, willing myself to appear unaffected. I can't afford to let Ricardo see me like this.But Ricardo notices. He notices everything. His eyes flick from me to Charles, studying the way Charles is looking at me. He turns to face me, then back to Charles, and I see the suspicion in his eyes. "Angelo," Ricardo calls out. "Can you take Antonella back to the car and drive her to the hotel?” Antonella’s brows knit together in confusion. "You’re not coming?" Ricardo’s voice turns cold. "Someone tried to assassinate us tonight, honey. I’m coming, just not right away." She hesitates for a moment, then sighs before leaning in and kissing him on his lips. It’s the second time tonight I’ve seen them kiss, and even though I refuse to acknowledge