Enzo Corretti is a monster. He runs the most powerful crime family in the world. Being ruthless and unfeeling is in the job description but nowhere in the handbook did it ever say how to deal with someone like Dylan. She may look like a saint but underneath her pretty doe eyes there's a monster in waiting. Dylan Monroe is a Saint. That's what everyone always said about her. Growing up in violence and tragedy, she managed to live a normal life despite it. Well, that was until eight men showed up in her house with seven guns aimed at her head and the most vicious of them all, Enzo Coretti claiming she had something that belonged to him. Maybe she did. But Dylan knew if she gave it to him, it wouldn't end well for her.
View MoreDylan Emilia strolls into my room later that day, and like always she looks as if she walked straight off the runway and found herself in my room. She's wearing a clean white suit that would've been modest if it wasn't for the white lace top hugging her breast and showing through the open lapels. Her hair runs down her shoulders in golden waves She looked sophisticated, beautiful. Emilia and I were like yin and yang. She was all gold and light. Polished and untouchable, and I was darker, rougher around the edges, lost. We couldn't be any different. I push away some books sprawled on my bed to make room for her in case she wanted to sit. She didn't, she stood by the door just staring at me. "You better be taking me to diner first with the way you're eye-fucking me," I said. She sighed, finally taking the space I made for her on the bed. "I need a favour." I sat up straighter, my interest piqued. "Wha
DylanThere might be over fifty people on the top floor of this luxurious establishment. In my opinion, I could risk going to jail for homicide if it would mean I don't have to see this infuriating man ever again.He sat there like a king, rocked back in his seat, a glass of liquor propped on his knee. He was enjoying seeing me squirm. That much was evident in the roguish flicker in his eyes and the small smirk on his lips. He was enjoying this a fucking lot.I was the kind of girl who can yap your ear of on any day, stranger or no. But put me up on a stage in front of a crowd and I'll freeze up like a deer in headlights. It's not something I'm It's something about standing in front of piercing gazes all honed in on you, that makes my skin prickle uncomfortably."Do I hear five thousand?" My jaw drops."Ten thousand!""Twelve.""Fifteen.""Twenty-five."All around me, men and women are shouting
DylanMy Louboutins met lush red carpet as Enzo helped me out of the escalade. I squinted through the bright lights of the cameras flashing all around me. I successfully climbed out of the car without tripping on my dress. Enzo led me to Nino, Vince, Malachai, and Emilia who were doing their best to ignore the shouts and questions from the paparazzi gathered.I jumped a little when Enzo intertwined his hands with mine. I looked down at our locked hands and then at him. He leaned down. "Remember we're putting on a show," he whispered.I frowned.I almost forgot.He guided me into the lobby of the posh building. Men and women in fanc
Dylan "HeyAbuelita! It's me, Dylan." I hear her gasp over the phone. "Mi rosa. How are you? Natalie told me you're on a field trip for school. Or was that just an excuse to shirk your responsibilities as Maid of Honour?" She sounded raspier than usual, tired and drawn really. I chuckled, but it lacked cheer. "A little bit of both, really. How is Mariana doing with the preparations?" "You know your sister. The house is beautiful but I think several of your cousins are planning her murder. She's more controlling than the wedding planner and that's his job." I laughed. "I'm sure it isn't that bad,Abuelita."
Dylan I stare up at the impending wall after my usual morning jog at the back of the Mansion, away from the coming and goings of the securities at the front. I ran alone today. Enzo had kidnapped Malachai and the rest of the guys to hash out a revenge plan for the Los Toros Cartel. And as expected, I wasn't invited. Not that I'm mad about it... Okay, I am mad about it and I know I shouldn't be. I'm not apart of the Famiglia, they are not compelled to tell me anything. But hell! I almost got shot yesterday, I deserve to know what befalls my would-have-been-murderers! Right? I shake my head, banishing all thoughts of Enzo and his stupid Famiglia away, foc
Dylan We were out before the police got there. As soon as we got home, Enzo marched to his office and locked himself in there with the guys without one word to me. He seemed to know something about the attack and he was deliberately leaving me in the dark. I stared at his dark mahogany office doors, the same doors being guarded by two dudes. Both look like they could floor me into hell if I got too close. Fed up of sitting on my hands, I squared my shoulders and got too close. I needed to talk to Enzo and if it means getting my ass handed to me by a couple of thugs so be it. They barely glanced over me as I stood before them. "Hello, criminals. I'm just going to cruise on by. Nothing to see here, gonna ha
Dylan I glide through the water, letting it clean my sweaty limps from this morning's run with Malachai. We've started running every morning. He'd come by my room and together we would sneak out through the back door in the kitchen and jog along the path. I looked forward to it actually. Compared to everyone else in the house, Malachai was a squishy toy. I mean, don't get me wrong, he could kill you in 0.5 seconds but when he wants to be, he's really easy to get along with. "I've been looking for you," Came Enzo's gruff voice from behind me. I pause, looking over at him at the edge of the pool. He was in his usual dark suit, looking down at me like I was the most annoying thing in the world. I grin swimming over to him. I folded my arms over the edge and ga
Dylan Our adventure wasn't over. After the nightclub, he took me to a candy factory. I quirked an eyebrow as I studied the impending structure. "Did you bring me here to meet Willy Wonka?" "I fired him last week. I don't tolerate snorting on the job." I feigned a gasp, "Did you-- Did notorious crime boss Enzo Corretti make yet another joke? You're on a roll this week, huh, Bossman?" "Dylan." "Yes?" "Stop talking." "Yes, sir," I saluted. With one last glare, he made for the factory. Stepping in the
Dylan My eyes flutter open. I look around the room and sigh. My sub-conscience wouldn't let me rest in this unfamiliar place. I miss my bed. I miss snacking on Doritos in said bed, then Natalie yelling at me for the mess. I sit up in my bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, only to almost jump out of my skin when I find someone leaning against my doorframe. I squinted through the dark and make out the outline of a man. He steps further into the room, where the moonlight filters through the balcony but my heart didn't stop racing even after I realised who it was. "Enzo? What are you doing in here?" I pull the sheet up in an attempt to cover myself. I was
Dylan "Watch where you're going, bitch!" A cabbie yells at me with a thick New York accent. I repaid his warm gesture with a more than enthusiastic gesture of my own. A stiff middle finger his way earned me several honks and a Starbucks cup thrown at my head. "Asshole!" I crossed the road with the phone still between my shoulder and my ear as I loosened the noose—Fine, tie— around my neck. I was exhausted, frustrated and I really needed to pee but thank god, I was nearing my apartment complex. "—and I need you to pick up your dress at the store. Dylan? Dylan... Dylan! Are you even listening to me?!" I flinched and quickly withdrew the phone from my ear,...
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