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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 ☩═✦═☩ The warehouse was cold, and the air was filled with the smell of salt and iron. I kept my face still, breathing evenly as I took in the scene in front of me. Pallets stacked with bricks of cocaine stretched toward the ceiling, row after row of neatly wrapped product, each one stamped with a symbol I’d come to recognize too well. It was enough to drown the streets in a storm of white powder, and the thought twisted in my gut. I could see it so clearly, people slumped in alleyways, overdosing without a soul to care. Kids pushing limits they didn’t even understand. Men and women chasing an escape like they weren’t feeding the same monster that was killing everyone else. Drugs didn’t discriminate. No one was safe. Tomorrow, every ounce of this would be out there, touching lives, ripping through neighborhoods like a fire set by men who didn’t give a damn about the damage. Nikolai stood at the center with arrogance that he wore like a crown. He moved with such confi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I have always been cold. The day I found my mother swinging from the ceiling something inside me just... broke, cutting away all the things that made me human. My mom and I weren’t close. Not in the way people mean when they talk about family. She didn’t hold me when I was scared, didn’t kiss my scrapes when I fell, didn’t braid my hair or tell me I was beautiful. She spent most of her time trying to pretend I didn’t exist, like if she ignored me long enough, I’d just disappear. It took me years to figure out why. By the time I pieced it together, she was gone, and I was standing in the ruins of her life, wondering why it didn’t hurt more. This kind of coldness doesn’t just happen. It’s made. It’s earned. And I earned every jagged edge. But then Alessandro Costello came crashing into my life, all suits and beautiful blue eyes, a smile that would make any woman's panties fall to the ground and those walls didn’t stand a chance. I hate him for it. God, I hate
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. They were too bright, too sterile. The hum wasn’t just background noise, it echoed in my head and that pissed me off. I sat at the table, my badge and gun placed neatly in front of me. I stared at them, those symbols of authority, of loyalty. Of everything I was supposed to be. But right now, none of it felt right. My mind wasn’t in this room. It was with him. Alessandro. The man I’d spent years chasing, fighting, and falling for. The man I just put behind bars. A man who was everything I should hate—but everything I couldn’t. Because love didn’t belong here. Not in this place. Not in this world. I lifted my eyes, scanning the room. It wasn’t just the job—it was the weight of knowing that no matter what side I was on, I was losing something. Someone. Still, I straightened in my chair and squared my shoulders. I had a role to play. A duty to uphold. This was my life. This was where I belonged. Even if it meant breakin
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.