Hey, everyone. Just a quick reminder: Romance isn't just about the sexual tension—there needs to be a plot too. So, if you're missing that tension, hang in there, it's coming. I can't fit the entire story into one chapter—good things take time. Please, take a moment to go back to the first page and read the disclaimer carefully. It's important for you to understand what this book entails. This is a dark romance—always keep that in mind. Make sure to read the trigger warnings, as well as the notes on updates and POVs. These details are crucial, so don't skip them. Thank you. XOXO 💋
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ It’s rare for me to be at a loss for words. I’ve talked my way out of more trouble than most people even know exists. But then there are moments—moments like this—where words just fail me. When everything I’m feeling hits me so hard, I can barely breathe. It’s like a tight fist around my throat, and no matter how much I try to swallow it down, it doesn’t budge. Feelings have a way of messing with your head, making you second-guess yourself. Normally, I’d say screw feelings, and keep it moving. But when it comes to her? When it comes to Fliss, it’s different. With her, I don’t need to think. I don’t need to protect myself from my own instincts or worry about my judgment being clouded. She’s the one person in my life who I can let my guard down around, the one person I trust without needing a backup plan. And trust doesn’t come easy for me. Hell, I’ve never done it—not with my siblings, and definitely not with my parents. I’m a vault, locked up tight, and everyone’s o
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I don't like being pushed into a corner. It’s like having a noose tightening around my neck with every move I make. And I don’t do well when I’m boxed in. I start looking for cracks, any way to break free. I don’t panic, I don’t freeze. I start thinking and strategizing. And all I could come up with was Brandon Kane. "The Westies?!" Brandon’s voice boomed through the room, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear those words coming out of your little sister’s mouth? The sister I’ve spent my whole life protecting suddenly talking about taking down a criminal group like it’s nothing?" I met his gaze, trying to stay calm. "Brandon, I’m not the same little sister anymore. I have grown up, I know what I’m doing. I just need your help to keep them off my back, create a distraction, or something." His expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer. "And you think that just because you’v
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I had screwed up, and I knew it. Believe me, I was no stranger to mistakes—I had a whole history of them, a laundry list of times I’d royally messed things up. But this one? This one stung differently, hit harder. It was like I could feel the weight of every bad decision I’d ever made piling up on my shoulders, and yeah, it pissed me off. I was furious at myself for being careless, for letting things spiral out of control, for not being sharper, quicker, better. But the anger wasn’t just directed inward. It burned hot, flaring up every time I thought about the situation I was in. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting anyone—especially someone like Alessandro—see me as a failure, as someone who couldn’t handle her shit. I wasn’t one to back down or wallow in regret, but this? It gnawed at me, clawing its way through my thoughts, and I couldn’t shake the frustration, the annoyance. How the hell had I let it get to this point? Every part of me screamed to fi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Holy Shit! I rarely get this nervous. I hadn’t been that nervous since I was waiting for my final exam results. And even then, I didn’t feel as off-kilter as I did now. My whole body is buzzing, like I was hooked up to a live wire. It was that kind of feeling where I knew something big was about to happen, and I was caught between wanting to run toward it and bolt the other way. Every nerve in me was on edge, my brain working overtime trying to play it cool, even though all I wanted to do was roll my eyes at how ridiculous it was. Ghost’s text flashed across my screen: “Send me your address.” I had sent it to him hours ago, and he responded with his usual cryptic edge, warning that he wouldn’t tell me when he’d show up or give any other details. It was all part of his game—keeping me on edge, making sure I never felt too comfortable. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, re-reading his message as if it would reveal more than it did. But there was noth
Ghost ☩═☠︎︎═☩ I ripped off my mask as I stared down at the scene before me, a twisted work of art—her legs spread wide, blindfolded, wrists bound tight, and lips parted, waiting for my cock. It was almost perfect, almost—but not quite. The flaw in the picture? Too much fabric still clinging to her skin, hiding the parts of her I wanted to expose, to claim. Leaving her hair, I crouched down, moving slowly so she could feel every shift in the air as I did. Her head instinctively followed my movement, seeking out what she couldn’t see, but I caught her by the throat, forcing her back into position. My grip tightened just enough to remind her who was in control. Her neck strained, head tilted back, mouth still open and waiting. Desperate, almost like she knew exactly what was coming but was powerless to stop it. And that’s exactly how I wanted her—helpless, on the edge, and aching for whatever I decided to give her. I couldn’t resist. My hands found her breasts, fingers diggi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I’ve always been a locked box, the kind with a heavy-duty padlock and no key in sight. I don’t share my thoughts with anyone, never have, never will. My feelings stay buried deep where no one can find them. Hell, not even I know where they’re buried half the time. People don't like that. It makes them uneasy when they can’t put you in a neat little box, label you, or figure out what makes you tick. They don’t like the unknown; it scares them. And scared people? They’ll do whatever it takes to make themselves feel better, to feel like they’re in control. So, what do they do? They dress it up as concern, like they actually give a damn about your well-being. They start throwing around words like ‘mental health’ and ‘emotional support,’ like those words mean something like they’re magic spells that will somehow crack me open. They say it’s for my own good, that therapy will help me ‘unpack my trauma,’ ‘heal my inner child,’ or whatever the hell the buzzword of the
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I entered the candle lit chapel exactly as the witching hour started, the scent of incense still lingering in the air, mingling with the musty aroma of old wood and forgotten sins. The dim light of the flickering candles cast eerie shadows across the stone walls, giving the place a sinister, almost otherworldly feel, bathing the room in a twisted mockery of holiness. This was the sanctuary where Giovanni prayed for the lost and broken souls, a place where he preached about redemption and forgiveness. But tonight, it was nothing more than a stage for the devil’s work. My work. I dipped my fingers into the holy water at the entrance, feeling its coolness against my skin. I caught Giovanni’s eye, and with a slow, deliberate motion, I brought my hand up to my forehead. I made the sign of the cross, but deliberately wrong—touching my forehead, then my left shoulder, skipping the center of my chest entirely, and finishing with a half-hearted swipe to the right.
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I lounged on the couch, my arms draped over the backrest, one leg casually crossed over the other. My gaze was fixed on Giovanni, crawling naked across the cold stone floor of our warehouse. Sweat glistened on his skin, streaked with blood, while his knees and palms were raw, dragging a trail of crimson behind him. Whenever he dared to stop, gasping for breath, Kelly’s mother stepped in with a blank, almost serene expression, pressing a glowing hot poker against his flesh. Each searing touch was a grim satisfaction, a small revenge for what he’d done to her daughter. The sizzle of burning skin filled the room, acrid and sharp. Giovanni let out a choked scream, barely escaping his throat before he forced himself to crawl across the stone floor. Each breath was a struggle, wheezing and labored. His fresh, blistering burns flared with every touch of the hot poker, reigniting his agony. His eyes reflected a grim realization: there was no escape, only endless suffer
Hey, everyone! I know this might feel like it’s out of nowhere, but I did try to give you a heads-up a few chapters back that this book was coming to an end. If you’ve loved reading this first part, please don’t forget to leave a 5-STAR review. It really makes a difference, not just for me, but it helps other readers find their way to this story. Your support means more than you’ll ever know. And now for the exciting part… Mafia Men VI - Alessandro’s Ruin.is coming soon. It’ll be right here, waiting for you. As much as I wish I could get straight into it, I need to sort out some things on my end first. Life’s gotten a bit messy, and I need to tackle it before bringing A and V's story back to life. So, thank you again for every vote, comment, and moment you've spent with me in this world. I’ll be back soon... P.s. Don't worry, I'll be back in a few days. XOXO 💋
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ He had my attention, all of it. And yeah, I know how that sounds—stupid as hell. But there it was, pulling at me, sneaking up every time I tried to put my focus anywhere else. I told myself it was nothing. Just a phase. A momentary lapse of judgment because we were alone with nothing better to do. He’s not special, I kept repeating. But now that I am here, he still has all of my attention, that pissed me off more than anything. I clenched my jaw, forced myself to focus on anything—emails, documents, hell, even staring at the coffee stain on my desk would’ve been better. But every damn time I tried to get back on track, my brain betrayed me. A flicker of movement from him, a low hum in his voice when he was on a call, and I was right back where I started. "Viviane," his voice slid over me, smooth as sin, "What did you have on your desk today?" I forced myself to glance back at him after trying so hard not to, "The security breaches," I said, as if he didn’t a
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ When I walked into the office today, something was different. I felt it before I even crossed the threshold. It was surreal—me, actually smiling. And not the kind of smile that came from hacking, landing a deal or putting someone in their place. No, this was something else. Dom was the first to spot me. He froze, mouth half-open, and then, like a domino effect, everyone in the room followed his gaze. I watched as they all rose from their seats, shock and relief written across their faces. They looked at me like I had died, as if I’d been buried six feet under instead of just off the grid for a bit. Then came Calla and Ha-yoon, practically tripping over themselves in their rush to get to me. Calla moved like she was on a mission, she didn't even let Ha-yoon get close; instead, she practically threw herself into my arms, clutching onto me like I’d vanished forever. She smelled like vanilla and some kind of floral perfume, something I recognized from the countles
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The elevator doors slid open, and the second we stepped into Scott's penthouse, I barely had time to blink before Magnus shot across the room, launching himself at me. “Hey, bud,” I murmured, burying my face in his fur as he head-butted me, purring loud enough to drown out Allegra’s laughter. “Did you miss me, little troublemaker.” Allegra, who was waddling in right behind him, laughed softly, holding her belly with one hand. "Oh, believe me, he did. I’ve tried to keep him happy, but I think he’s been counting down the days till his ‘dad’ came home.” Scott gave me a dry look, walking over to Allegra, he pulled her into his arms, one hand cradling her belly like she was made of glass, "He could’ve fooled me. Little menace acted like I was a complete intruder in my own place," he muttered, half to himself, half to Allegra, who simply laughed at him, "And for the record, the little beast was living like a king here." I nodded, "Thanks, Allegra. Really, I owe yo
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ No one had ever killed for me—never for my honor, my safety, or anything at all. The blood was still fresh, still seeping through the cracks in the boat’s wooden floor. Sal’s body was nowhere to be seen, and here I was, wrapped in this strange sense of safety. I glanced around the boat. Nearly a dozen men, all of them tattooed and scarred, men with knuckles rough enough to scrape bone and eyes that didn’t blink twice at the sight of blood. I was strong, I have worked my ass off to be this strong, tougher than people usually guessed but against a group of men like this? Against the strength in their fists, I’d be crushed in seconds. But Alessandro alone made me feel safe around them, a barrier they wouldn’t dare breach. I felt safer with Alessandro than I ever had with anyone, safer than I probably had any right to feel in a place like this. He made me feel... soft, in the best, most terrifying way. With him, I didn’t have to be the strong one. With him there,
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Two days… Nikolai said he’d send a boat for us in two days. After that, everything became a haze. Time didn’t exist here, not in the way it did out there. Hours, days—it all blurred together, the lines between night and day erased by the way we drowned in each other. The sun had dipped lower, casting an orange glow over the beach as we swam in the ocean. The water was warm against our skin, the sound of our laughter echoing around us but then he stopped, eyes darkening as he pulled me close. His lips found mine, like he had no intention of rushing. Like we had forever. His hands traced lazy patterns on my back as we floated together, I wrapped my legs around him, and for a moment, we were weightless, suspended in the water and in each other. The setting sun became the perfect backdrop to our kiss in the ocean, the fading light wrapping around us like it was made for this moment. Alessandro wasn’t one to keep things gentle for long. We were barely out of the wate
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ If this is heaven, then screw everything else. I could throw my entire life away for this. This is the only thing that makes sense right now, and if I get to feel like this for the rest of my life, sign me the fuck up. His head was buried between my thighs, and the morning light spilling through the window made my bare skin glow. My nipples were stiff, the air teasing them, and all I could hear—aside from the waves crashing outside—was the sound of Alessandro’s mouth on me. My fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer, harder. His tongue moved in ways that had my head spinning, and every inch of my body felt like it was on fire. I let out a low moan, my back arching off the bed as I gripped the headboard like it was the only thing tethering me to reality. He was everywhere—teeth scraping along the inside of my thigh, tongue pressing against me like he was a man on death row savoring his last meal. His stubble burned deliciously against my skin. The way
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The day Viviane turned sixteen, her life split in two. According to her, that was the day everything changed—for the better. She sat on her bed, legs crossed, laptop propped up in front of her, while her family sang from miles away. Stella, John, and their daughter Felicity were huddled on one side of the video chat, Brandon on the other. The cupcake with a single candle flickered beside her. She wasn’t with them. She was here, in this empty house that barely acknowledged her existence. She blew out the candle, holding back the sting in her eyes. When she playfully pretended to feed them the cupcake through the screen, Stella opened her mouth wide in a theatrical "ahhh," and Brandon joined in with an exaggerated laugh. They were trying, but it wasn’t the same. It never was. Her siblings had sent gifts ahead of time, and after the song, they asked her to open them. Brandon’s was first. She didn’t bother with caution; she tore into the box like she was opening the
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ High School Graduation... Alessandro Costello was the guy every guy wanted to be. Good-looking in that unfair way—sharp jawline, blue eyes that seemed to pull you in, and a smile that made people weak at the knees. He wasn’t just popular, he owned the school. Captain of the football team, straight A's without even trying, and with a last name that carried power far beyond the hallways. The kind of name that made teachers look twice, that had parents whispering when he passed by. He drove cars that turned heads—sleek, fast, and expensive—cars that left everyone else staring in his rearview mirror. Girls flocked to him like he was the sun, orbiting his every move, waiting for just a glance or a smirk thrown their way. He didn’t have to chase anyone; they came to him. Alessandro didn’t need to try—he was it, the one everyone wanted to be close to, even if it was just to get a glimpse of what life looked like on his level. But that was just what people sa