I just want to take a moment to appreciate each and every one of you. It’s your kind words and encouragement that push me to keep writing more and more, and for that, I’m so incredibly grateful. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy the chapter! XOXO 💋
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I'd never felt the urge to stomp someone so hard I’d leave an imprint, but this bitch? She was testing my patience like no one else ever had. There were a lot of things I could handle, but watching her perfectly manicured hand reach out, to touch Alessandro’s tux? Yeah, that wasn’t one of them. Her smile was all sweetness and sugar, but I could see right through it—she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all me. She leaned in, eyes lingering on him in a way that made my blood simmer, fingers brushing his lapel. “Can we talk for a moment... alone?” she asked, voice dripping with a little too much familiarity as she toyed with his collar. A heat rose up in me, a possessiveness I’d only felt for Fliss but somehow ten times more potent. In the span of a second, my mind was made up. I didn’t think, I just acted. My hand shot out, and I slapped her hand away from him—not a gentle brush-off either, but a smack that echoed in the space around us. Francesca jerked her hand b
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ From the corner of my eye, I watched Viviane—laughing, head thrown back, that carefree sound spilling out of her like it belonged in a different world than mine. What really got me was that even Bianca was laughing along with the rest of them. Bianca, who I expected to pull her usual crap, throw a snide remark, stir up trouble, or worse, drop some comment meant to chip away at me in front of Viviane but none of it happened. She was smiling like she wasn’t the viper I knew her to be. And it twisted something dark in me, this realization that Viviane fit here more easily than I wanted her to. I hated it—seeing her at ease with people, people who shouldn’t get to know her, who shouldn’t get to see her this relaxed. That laughter, those little smiles... They weren’t for them. They shouldn’t be. I realized it in that moment: Viviane wasn’t someone I could just share. Not here, not with them, maybe not with anyone. She’s mine. And the thought of anyone
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I stormed out of that suffocating mansion, cursing under my breath, every step harder and faster than the last. The the weight of all their judgment and bullshit pressing down until I could barely breathe. I had to get out. Alessandro was right behind me, his hand in mine. He didn’t say a word, didn’t try to stop me. For once, he just followed, letting me lead the way without a fight. The second we stepped outside into the biting cold night air, I dropped his hand and sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t enough to calm me down. Not even close. I clenched my fists, trying to force myself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Come on, Viviane. Inhale and fucking exhale. My pulse was racing, my blood boiling from the crap I’d just dealt with in there. Those self-righteous assholes. Acting like I was the one out of line. Like they haven’t let Bianca run wild for years, making excuses for her tantrums because Daddy broke her precious heart. I let out a bitter laugh, my bre
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “It’s been six months,” Elijah Bolton’s voice echoed, as one of the Capos, he’d been in this business long enough to recognize a lost cause. “Six months, and we’ve found nothing. Whoever planned this was ten steps ahead, covered every angle. No trails, no witnesses, nothing. Face it—we may never see Vito again.” Luciano Costello, father of Nikolai and former head of the family, clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, and then slammed one down on the table with a crack that echoed around the room. “That’s my brother you’re talking about, dammit!” he thundered, anyone could hear the fury and grief that bordered on desperation in his voice, “I can’t—no, I won’t accept that. I’ll burn through every last cent I’ve got if that’s what it takes. Dead or alive, he’s a Costello, and he deserves a proper funeral, not to be some ghost everyone’s forgotten.” The men shifted uneasily, their eyes casting wary glances at each other, knowing that Luciano’s anger cou
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The rest of the night went on without much drama... At first, Alessandro stuck to my side, but now, as the hours dragged on, the dynamic shifted. Somewhere between the stolen glances and the meaningless conversations, I found myself clinging to him instead. Protective of him. And that feeling... that wasn’t like me. That wasn't like me at all. We were steps away from leaving when Evangeline’s voice stopped us. “Wait, Viviane, can we talk,” she approached us, her gaze darting nervously between me and Alessandro. Alessandro leaned closer to me and whispered, “I'm waiting for you outside.” I nodded at him, and turned back to Evangeline, “Tonight didn’t go as planned,” she let out a laugh, "I’m sorry—for everything that happened. You were right about her. I’ve tried to stop Bianca before, so many times, even in the past, Viviane, but she doesn’t listen to anyone—not even me. And Nikolai treats her like his little sister. I’ve never seen him raise his voice at
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ “I need you to trust me too, Alessandro. Who is Sofia?” I whispered. His body tensed slightly under mine, the shift was so subtle but I noticed it. I could feel him about to pull back—not physically, but in that guarded way he always does. His eyes flicked to the side, avoiding mine. Oh no, not this time. I grabbed his face gently forcing him to look at me. “Tell me about the burns on your chest,” I pressed, “When did it start? How did it start? Who is she?” I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. The burns. Every time I thought about them, it sent a wave of disgust crashing over me. And no one had protected him. No one had stopped it. Not even him. He took my hand off his face, “I want you to promise me something first,” he said, “If I tell you, you won’t tell anyone. You won’t act on it. And you sure as fuck won’t go after her for revenge or any of that. Whatever I tell you stays between us. Do you understand me, Freckles?” My stomach twisted at hi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Love... It's a foreign concept for me. What even is love? Honestly, I’ve never figured it out. Not the romantic kind, at least. The only kind I’ve ever known is what I feel for Felicity, Stella, and Brandon. That fierce, protective bond you share with the people who share your blood—the people you’d burn the world down for. But what I felt for him wasn’t like family—it wasn’t safe or comfortable. It was all-consuming. The kind of thing that worms its way into your veins and refuses to leave. Being close to him wasn’t a choice. It was magnetic, inevitable, like I was pulled into his orbit and couldn’t fight my way out even if I’d tried. Every time I thought I’d find a moment to breathe, he was there, invading my thoughts. In the shower, I’d catch myself thinking about the way his hand slid down the curve of my body. Eating breakfast, I’d remember the way his lips curled into that sly smile that made me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. Even pick
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I watched Viviane pace the room, arms folded across her chest, the slight furrow in her brow that said she was already two steps ahead, calculating every angle. Smart. Prepared. Just what I needed at my side. I have never admitted it out loud, but her mind was something else entirely. It drew me in more than anything else. It wasn’t just the way she picked up on everything I said, it was how she pieced things together, how she challenged me without even trying. Every conversation with her felt like a match I didn’t mind losing. Her intelligence was a turn-on. I was proud of her in a way I didn’t even know I could feel, like having her by my side made me sharper, better, more alive. She paused by the window, the sunlight hitting directly into her hazel eyes and setting them aglow, turning them a shade lighter, like molten gold melting into green. "Our decoys are in place, right?" she asked, her voice holding an edge of excitement. I leaned back, f
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ We stood outside the courthouse, my FBI badge clipped to my belt. I forced myself to appear calm. The world was watching, even if I couldn’t see the cameras. Logan stood beside me. The faint smell of coffee clinging to him like always. “Viv,” Logan said softly, leaning closer so only I could hear. “We’re going to find her. You know that, right?” “I know,” I replied. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve got everyone on it, Viv. We’ll get her back.” I nodded stiffly, though I avoided looking at him. He meant well, but his words scraped against the rawness inside me. If only he knew. I didn’t need them to find Felicity, I’d made sure she was out of their reach. I needed them to believe me. And if I cracked, even for a second, it would all come crashing down. The faint rumble of engines pulled my attention, and Logan turned his head, squinting down the street. A line of sleek black SUVs rolled up, gleaming under the harsh midday sun. “Costello,” Logan muttered, his
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The front door slammed behind him, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. My whole body flinched, and I gripped the sheets tighter, holding onto them like they were the only thing that was real around me. My chest felt hollow, like he’d ripped something out of me on his way out. And no, it wasn’t the physical part...I could live with that. It was the words he’d left behind, cutting me open and leaving me bleeding in ways I couldn’t see. I still smelled like him—whiskey and his cologne. I let out a shaky breath, but it felt like it wasn’t enough, like I couldn’t get enough air. He was gone. My throat burned. I thought I was done crying, but the tears were there again, stinging my eyes. I looked around the room—his room. The bed was a mess, the black sheets wrapped around me. His glass was still on the nightstand, empty now, just like the bottle beside it. The faint morning light from the window stretched across the floor. I ran a hand through my hair, m
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I swirled the whiskey in my glass, watching it catch the dim light from the rising sun. The bottle was empty now. I downed the last of the whiskey and set the glass down. I glanced over my shoulder. Viviane was still there, half-buried in my sheets. Her pale skin almost glowed against the black fabric, fragile like porcelain, like something I could shatter with the slightest pressure. Her breathing was shallow, the faintest hitch in each exhale told me she was alive. She wasn't crying anymore, but I’d felt her tremble once in a while. Now, she was still, too still, except for her fingers. They were curled into the sheet, clutching it like a lifeline. I turned back and stared at the wall in front of me. My shirt hung open, the buttons undone, the whiskey burning its way through my veins. I wasn’t drunk, not nearly. I wanted to feel every second of this. Loyalty was sacred, and she had none of it—neither professionally nor personally. She betrayed the FBI for
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ His tongue darted out, licking a tear from my jawline all the way to my cheek. The wet heat of it made me shudder. "You're such a pretty crier," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, "You should cry more often. It suits you." In an instant, coldness coursed through my veins. My chest tightened as I tried to blink through the haze of fear and disbelief, struggling to make sense of what I was hearing. I have heard these words before, haven't I? His head tilted slightly to look into my eyes, his lips curling into a harsh, twisted smile that made my stomach churn. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. I searched his face, desperate to convince myself I’d misunderstood, that I was imagining it. But then, his voice drove a spike of ice through my heart. “That’s it, Red,” he murmured, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to make me gasp for air, “Let me see it. Let me see all that pain you’ve been hiding.” My insides froze, the words slammed into me so
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The words snapped something inside me. My blood boiled, my fists clenched, and before I could stop myself, I stepped right into his space and yelled, “The only reason you’re going to win is because of me!” His eyes flicked to my lips, just for a second, before snapping back to mine. The movement was so quick I almost missed it, but it was there, like a chink in his armor. And then, just as fast, his expression shifted back to cold indifference, like whatever I had to say didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter. My chest rose and fell with the force of my breathing, adrenaline pounding through my veins. “You want the truth, Alessandro? You want to know what I’ve risked? What I’ve done for you?” I pursed my lips, trying to hold my tears back but failing. “The truth is, without me, you wouldn’t even know the FBI’s next move. Without me, you’d be in the dark, still trying to figure out who’s feeding them intel, who’s planning what.” I stepped closer, “You’re winning thi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Alessandro stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out the faint light spilling in from the foyer. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights; the dim glow from the corner lamp was enough to show his sharp, chiseled features, which were set in an expression so dark it felt like the temperature dropped several degrees. He didn’t speak at first, just stood there, his cold, penetrating gaze slicing through me, making my stomach twist into a knot. When he finally did speak, his voice was deep, and smooth, not rage-filled like I had expected, no, it was like velvet dipped in acid. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I—” “Don’t,” his gaze pinned me to my spot, silencing me with nothing but his eyes, “Don’t insult me by pretending you have a reason I’d want to hear.” He moved further into the room, pulling off his tie like it irritated him. Tossing it onto the back of the armchair, he kept his eyes locked on mine, un
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The dining room in Nikolai’s penthouse wasn’t designed for comfort. The long oak table stretched the length of the room. We sat around the table for hours, picking apart the trial with the lawyers, dissecting every move the prosecution might make. The room reeked of stale coffee and stress. By the time the lawyers finally packed up and left, I was one wrong word away from losing it. Then Grayson walked in. My control was slipping...had been since the moment Francesca’s name came up in the news. Every instinct screamed to get up, to demand answers, to start breaking things until someone gave me what I wanted. But the real fucked-up part was that my first thought wasn’t about whether Francesca was alive. No, my mind went straight to Viviane. To what she might be planning. To whether she’d use... that against me. The thought of her dragging my darkest secrets into the light made my stomach churn. The kind of secrets you don’t even whisper to yourself. The k
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I had a checklist. A short, brutal little plan to tie up every loose end before midnight. The first item? Another piece of proof. Ethel Harrington’s testimony was a disaster. It reeked of theater, every stutter and hesitation felt staged, she was probably paid by the Costellos or maybe threatened to change her testimony. But Jonathan Cross didn’t lose control of a witness like that unless he wanted to. He’s a shark, and sharks don’t flail. He did it on purpose, they were throwing me under the bus purposely... I sat at the desk, staring at the thick transcript in front of me. The Bureau’s official seal glared up at me. I flipped through the pages, my fingers trembling slightly, scanning lines. “…Pursuing prosecution risks destabilizing ongoing operations. The Bureau’s priority is to integrate Costello resources into covert national initiatives…” I flipped to the next page... “…Agent Kane’s current actions jeopardize the Bureau’s objectives. To protect long-t
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Do you know what it feels like to be surrounded by people and still feel like you’re stranded in the middle of the ocean with no lifeline? That’s what it felt like sitting at the defense table today. Fitz, Logan, and Warren were right there, close enough to touch, close enough to remind me of all the bridges I’ve burned but no one spoke to me. They didn’t have to. Their silence said it all: I was disposable, and if I weren’t crucial to this case, I’d already be a footnote in someone else’s report. My stomach churned, but my face stayed neutral. Years of training couldn’t prepare you for this. My eyes betrayed me, flicking to him against my better judgment. Alessandro. He was sitting there with that smug confidence he always had. He leaned toward Goldstein, listening intently, but then, for the briefest second, his gaze shifted. And it landed on me. My heart stopped. His eyes narrowed, not with warmth or familiarity, but with something colder, harsher.