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Lilianna »»»◈««« Kason swung by to pick me up, and we headed home together. Once we got there, I decided to unwind with a nice, relaxing shower. Afterward, I rummaged through Amy's wardrobe and settled on a pair of soft, comfy pajamas. They were a bit shorter on me, but they felt snug and cozy. I walked upstairs barefoot and made my way to the kitchen. There, I spotted my meal waiting for me on the counter. With a sigh, I pulled out a chair and settled down, glancing around the room. The kitchen was enveloped in silence, the only sound being the faint echo of my footsteps. Most of the lights were off, casting a shadow over everything. It felt eerily quiet, adding to the creepy atmosphere of the empty room. It's been a month, we had no source of communication. Amalia said that he doesn't even talk to them anymore. It seemed like he was shutting out everyone around him, except, of course, for Nikolai Costello. I speared the steak with my fork, ready to take a bite, when the soun
Lilianna »»»◈««« My jaw dropped in disbelief as I glanced at Kason, then at his battered knuckles, and then returned my gaze to his smug expression. It took me a moment to process the news. "I...I can't believe it. This is amazing! When do I start?" "We're excited to have you, Lilianna," Rachel continued warmly. "We'll need you to come in for a fitting next week. Can you make it on Tuesday at 10 AM?" "Yes, absolutely, I can be there," I replied, still in shock. "Great! We'll send you an email with all the details, including the address and what to bring. If you have any questions before then, feel free to reach out." "Thank you again, Rachel," I said, my heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and nerves. "Welcome aboard, Lilianna," Rachel said before hanging up. I slowly lowered the phone, my hands trembling. I looked at Kason, his battered knuckles and smug smile. "Tell me you didn't," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. He made an even smugger face. "If that's what
Marco »»»◈««« ONE YEAR LATER »»◈««««◈»»»»◈«« I stepped off the plane, my polished shoes making a muted thud against the jet bridge. The familiar, sharp scent of the city greeted me as he walked through the private terminal. It had been a year and a half in Rochester—time spent away from my home and my empire. I moved through the airport like a ghost. I glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds that I had missed in my absence. A line of black SUVs waited for me outside. So much for being discreet. I hadn't told anyone I was coming back. The only people who knew were Niko, Scott, and Lorenzo, and they were enough. But Scott always makes a fucking spectacle out of everything. I sighed and made my way to the lead SUV, where Scott stood with a smug grin on his face. “Welcome back, Asshole,” he said, opening the door for me. “Cut the theatrics, Scott,” I muttered, stepping in front of him. “I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile, especially with the FBI breathing d
Marco »»»◈««« "I'm furious with you," Mum seethed, her frustration palpable in her tone. "How could you not tell me, not call me, not even bother to send a message?" She paused, her voice cracking with emotion. "If it wasn't for Niko, I wouldn't have even known if you were alive. Do you have any idea what it's like to not know if your son is dead or alive? To have to rely on second-hand information?" I reached out and held her hand, "I'm here now." Mum squeezed my hand, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "Don't ever do that to me again!" Dad walked into the room, sparing me a disapproving glance before taking his seat in his armchair. "I know how important it was to go underground in the narcotics labs with no contact, but you could have said something before leaving," he said, lighting up his cigar. "I left in a hurry," I said, my voice subdued. "There wasn't time." He took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly. "In a hurry, huh? Or maybe too caught up
Marco »»»◈««« I stayed still for a few moments, annoyance creeping up inside of me. "I'm sorry," she slurred, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm and reaching out to clean my shirt. Her eyes were hazy, and her movements clumsy. "Stop," I said, my voice firm but low. She blinked up at me, confusion clouding her features. "I didn't mean to..." "I know," I interrupted, trying to keep my frustration in check. I held both of her wrists firmly and stood up, bringing her along with me. She felt so frail, as if she had lost all her weight. Was modeling sucking the soul out of her body? Bowing my head, I shut my eyes tight, trying to rein in my mounting frustration. Taking her along, I led the unsteady Lilianna to the bathroom. She stumbled with each step, her movements clumsy and erratic. How much had she drunk? "Careful," I murmured, steadying her with a firm grip. She glanced up at me, her eyes unfocused and glassy. Once in the bathroom, I guided Lilianna to si
Lilianna »»»◈««« I groaned, my head pounding even before I dared to open my eyes. Hangovers were the worst, but sometimes, you had to do things you'd never do for the sake of the job. Like last night, when I found myself indulging in celebratory drinks just because my casting director insisted on it. Rolling over in bed, I winced at the slightest movement, my stomach churning with every shift. The room spun slightly as I cracked open my eyelids, the harsh light searing through my skull. I reached for the covers, pulling them over my head in a feeble attempt to block out the world. My mouth felt like a desert, dry and parched, as I groaned softly, regretting every sip from the night before. But then, I realized something. I slowly pulled down the covers once more, and a sense of unease washed over me. The beige-colored ceiling looked vaguely familiar. I furrowed my brow, trying to recall where I was, but my mind drew a blank. I jolted up in a seated position as I recognized the roo
Marco »»»◈««« I never had to care about keeping someone close. My position, influence, and my bank account usually took care of that for me. The bartender approached with a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label and a rocks glass in hand. He set them down in front of me, and without hesitation, I poured myself a generous double shot. Downing it in one swift motion, I welcomed the burn of the alcohol as it washed away the bitter taste of her rejection, if only for a fleeting moment. Second chances? I've never bought into that nonsense. Trusting someone again, believing they'll change? That's nothing but wishful thinking, a waste of time and energy in ninety-nine percent of cases. Don't even get me started on the audacity of it all. It's like expecting a snake not to bite after it's sunk its fangs into you once. Lilianna is not a very trustworthy person. She'll do whatever she pleases as long as she thinks she's safe. The moment she realized I wasn't a threat to her or her b
Lilianna »»»◈««« We walked into a high-end restaurant, his hand firmly anchored to my back as he guided us inside. The maître d' greeted us with a nod, instantly recognizing Marco. We were swiftly escorted to a secluded table, the dim lighting casting an intimate glow over the polished silverware and crisp linens. Apparently, Mr. Costello here had reserved a table for us and planned the entire dinner. Typical. He probably planned dates with the same precision he used to run his counterfeit money empire. He pulled out a chair for me and guided me into it before seating himself opposite me. The server approached our table, and without missing a beat, he ordered their most expensive wine. "We'll call you when we're ready to order," he added, dismissing the server with a nod. I watched as the server hurried off, likely to retrieve a bottle that cost more than an average person's rent. Typical Costello—always making a statement. The wine arrived, and as the server poured it into o
Marco »»»◈««« My life had taken a wild turn, and I was loving every damn second of it. Ever since Lilianna got pregnant, her sex drive went through the roof. I was on-call two times a day, making sure my dick was ready whenever she needed it. Despite her long hours on set, she always had time for me, and I wasn’t complaining. She had this thing for spicy food now. She’d eat it, then cry because it burned, and I'd laugh my ass off while comforting her. Nights were the best. Sliding under the covers, I’d press my hand against her swollen belly, feeling our daughter move. Elena Rose Costello. I chose the name and had the nursery decked out with everything she’d need. I knew it was a girl; I could feel it in my bones. Lilianna would tease, “What if it’s a boy? Are you going to dress him up in all that pink?” I didn’t care. I knew it was my little girl. I was damn certain. Just like I was damn certain I was blessed. Just like I was damn certain I was in love. Just like I was dam
Dear Beautiful Readers, Thank you so much for coming along on this wild and emotional ride with the Costello family. Writing this book has been an incredible journey, and I'm thrilled to have shared it with you. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me. Knowing that you've connected with the characters and their stories keeps me going, even during the toughest writing days. I hope you've enjoyed every twist and turn, and that the story has left you eager for what's to come. Your feedback and love for the book are truly appreciated. Don't forget to leave a 5-STAR REVIEW on the book's main page. Please. Please. Please (In Sabrina Carpenter's voice) It inspires me to keep creating and bringing these complex, intense tales to life. I'm beyond excited to bring you one last wild ride with the Costello family in "Mafia Men VI: Alessandro's Games." Get ready for all the drama, excitement, angst, spice and dark twists as we dive into Alessandro's world. I can't wait to share
Lilianna »»»◈««« I stepped out of the limousine, the blinding flashes of cameras immediately assaulting my senses. The red carpet stretched out before me like a river of fire, leading to the grand entrance of the theater. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of excitement and nerves, as I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. This was it. My first movie premiere. I smoothed the skirt of my gown, a shimmering emerald green that Marco had picked out for me. It hugged my curves perfectly, making me feel like a Hollywood starlet from a bygone era. As I walked, the fabric flowed around my legs, giving me a sense of grace and confidence. “Lilianna! Over here!” “Lilianna, who are you wearing tonight?” “Lilianna, how does it feel to be here?” The voices of the reporters and photographers blended into a cacophony of noise, but I forced myself to smile and wave, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Marco was just a few steps behind me, his strong hand resting gently on m
Lilianna »»»◈««« I held Marcello tightly in my arms as we stepped out of the car, my heart pounding. I glanced nervously at Marco, uncertain how everyone would react to meeting Marcello. Samuele, Gabriele, Amalia, and Rio stood waiting inside our grand estate. Marcello's eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of the massive house. "Whose home is that?" he asked in Italian. I knew it would take time for him to learn English so he could talk with the other kids here. I was determined to teach him everything myself. Marco stepped up beside me, gently brushing his hand against his cheek, "It's ours," he said. "You live here?" Marcello's eyes were filled with disbelief. I nodded, trying to infuse my voice with as much softness as I could muster, "We do, and from now on, this will be your home too." The way Marcello stared at the estate broke my heart. The images of his previous life flashed through my mind. I vowed to erase those memories, to give him a fresh st
Marco »»»◈««« The limo came to a halt outside Cala del Leone, the final surprise I had planned for her. The secluded private beach lay just outside Florence, hidden away from the world. We stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the waves crashing softly against the shore. A table was set up near the water’s edge, decorated with flickering candles and fresh flowers. The ocean stretching out endlessly under the moonlight. Lilianna turned to me, her eyes questioning. "What’s this?" I took her hand, guiding her to the table. "Our honeymoon," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down, her gaze never leaving mine. We were greeted with a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne, a private Michelin-starred chef preparing our dinner, and a live orchestra playing beautiful pieces just for us. As we settled in, I poured the champagne, the bubbles rising in the glass like tiny stars. The first course was served, and we began to eat.
Marco »»»◈««« I held her hand, her delicate fingers interlaced with mine, and on her face was a happiness I had never seen before. She seemed truly happy and at peace. And honestly, so was I. After such a long and excruciating time, I finally felt at peace, like I was finally back home after I had been missing for years. Even though I had just met Marcello, I felt an intense connection to that little man, a feeling stronger than anything I had ever experienced. The last time I felt this enchanted by someone was when I first met his mother. He had the same captivating charm, the kind that draws you in, just like his mother. I’m a father. Damn, I’m a father, and I have been for the past five years, almost six if you count Lilianna's pregnancy. And I never knew. All this time, even without knowing about him, it doesn't change the fact that I was a father. An adorable boy, carrying my father's legacy, my legacy... I couldn't wait to teach Marcello everything I knew, guide him, an
Lilianna »»»◈««« The sight of him hit me like a punch to the gut. His small frame, fragile and vulnerable, the wide eyes full of innocent fear that twisted my heart. Those same blue eyes, unforgettable and haunting, locked onto mine after a quick, seeking glance at Betty. Each heartbeat felt like an eternity as I watched him take tentative steps forward, clutching a stuffed giraffe as if it were his only shield against the world. His eyes, flickering between Betty, me, and Marco, scanned us up and down. Betty knelt before him, her grip firm on his small arms. "Francesco," she said gently, "this lady and her husband are our friends. They are here to take us away, to help us. Now go, greet them while I pack a bag, she told him and he nodded. As he walked closer to me, every instinct screamed at me to scoop him up, to hold him tight. Tears welled up, blurring my vision. I fought the urge and knelt down, forcing a smile. "Hello, Francesco..." For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a
Lilianna »»»◈««« I knocked on yet another door, each impact sending sharp stings through my bruised knuckles. My fingers throbbed, raw from the relentless pounding, but I couldn't stop. Marco and I had vowed to scour every house in this neighborhood. The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with suspicious eyes. Her frown deepened as she took me in, "Cosa vuoi?" she demanded. ("What do you want?") I held up a photograph of Beatrice Berlusconi, my voice trembling with hope. "Hai visto questa donna? Sai dove abita?" I asked. ("Have you seen this woman? Do you know where she lives?") She squinted at the picture through her glasses, her gaze sharpening as she continued talking in Italian, "Oh, that's Betty..." Relief washed over me, a powerful tide that nearly knocked me off balance. Marco stepped forward, his presence grounding me as he placed a steadying hand on my back. "Can you tell us where she is?" His voice was calm, but the tension in his grip showed his impatien
Lilianna »»»◈««« "We're never going to find him, are we?" I murmured, my voice barely rising above a whisper as I leaned heavily against the crumbling wall of the grimy alley in Le Piagge. I scanned the filthy surroundings, the stench of decay and neglect assaulting my senses. Trash littered the narrow passage, and the flickering streetlights cast eerie shadows that danced on the graffiti-covered walls. A rat scurried across my path, disappearing into the darkness. My heart sank further. How could a child survive here? The thought gnawed at me. While I lived in my mansions and penthouses, my son was out there, walking these streets. Fear clutched my heart. Marco's fingers brushed my cheek, and I flinched, recoiling from his touch. Since that night with Kason and Anna, a chilling dread had settled deep within me. Any contact from Marco now made my skin crawl, dragging me back to those moments of utter helplessness. I couldn't forget how powerless I felt as Anna ruthlessly ended