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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 ☩═✦═☩ They say when you love someone, every little thing about them starts to matter in ways you never expected. I didn’t believe that until now. Because if you’d told me six months ago that I’d be standing here in the middle of my shattered life, worrying about a cat that doesn’t even belong to me, I’d have laughed in your face. But here I was. Magnus's silvery fur brushed against my fingers as his bright amber eyes darted around. He probably didn't like being outside, not without Alessandro. I could feel his small body tense as I adjusted my grip on him, but his purr vibrated against my chest. He trusted me. Too bad I didn’t trust myself anymore. I approached the nondescript building, its bland gray exterior concealed by the vast, featureless horizon. No signs, no windows, just a block of concrete with a steel door and cameras discreetly planted along the perimeter. The sun was almost up, and my boots crunched on the gravel as I walked toward the site. Each step f
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I’m not the type to lose track of things. Misplacing something, forgetting about it long enough for it to disappear? That’s not me. My life, my job, doesn’t allow for those kinds of mistakes. I couldn’t stop running scenarios in my head, trying to retrace every step. The address wasn’t just missing—it was gone, and that fact itched under my skin like a splinter I couldn’t reach. I replayed the last time I saw it: the way I folded it neatly, the exact spot I’d tucked it into. My thoughts kept circling back to Alessandro. No. There was no way. If he’d found that address, this entire operation would’ve imploded before it even began. Still, doubt crept in. He never stayed at my place long enough to come across something that incriminating. Not to mention, if he had, I’d already be dead or worse. I shook my head, dismissing the thought, though it didn’t fully leave. Something else had to have happened. The missing motel address wasn’t just a loose thread—it was
And just like that, we’ve reached the end. I can’t begin to express what this journey has meant to me. Nearly three years ago, I started writing this series, pouring my heart into every page, every twist, every broken character working their way toward redemption. What started as a single story turned into a world of love, betrayal, sacrifice. A world that, for so long, felt just as real to me as the one outside my screen. This series has been my constant companion, my late-night obsession, my endless battle between frustration and joy. I’ve spent years with these characters, watching them evolve, break, heal, and fight for the love and survival they never thought they deserved. Letting them go feels like saying goodbye to a piece of myself. To those of you who have been here since the beginning—to those who joined somewhere along the way—thank you. Your comments, your excitement, your passion for these characters kept me going when the words refused to come. Every time
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I had never been a big emotional crier. Not when I got shot. Not when I faced down criminals twice my size. Not even when I was in labor with both of my children. But watching Felicity walk across that stage in her cap and gown? Yeah. I was losing it. Sixteen years old. Valedictorian. Just like me. I squeezed Alessandro’s hand, trying to keep my emotions in check as she reached the podium. She looked so grown up, standing there, her red hair shining under the stadium lights, her eyes scanning the massive crowd like she still couldn’t believe this was happening. I still couldn’t believe it was happening. I remembered the tiny girl who used to curl up next to me in a hospital bed, hooked up to dialysis, her body too small for the battles she had to fight. I remembered the way she clung to me after Stella died, the way she had once been so fragile and now? Now, she stood before thousands, confident, brilliant, with the whole world waiting for her.
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ FOUR YEARS LATER •───⋅────⋅───• The pregnancy test lay on the counter. I stared at it. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting… Until— Two bright pink lines. My pulse slammed into my throat. My fingers trembled as I snatched the second test, my breath stalling in my chest. Bold, capital letters burned into my vision. Pregnant. I swallowed, my mouth dry as I reached for the third one, hoping, praying, begging for a different result. Pregnant. A hollow, gasping breath left me as I staggered backward. My legs barely held me up before I sank to the cold tile floor, pressing my knees to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. My body was a time bomb, the life inside me a ticking fuse. I had read the statistics, spoken to the doctors, heard the warnings whispered like a death sentence. Fifty-fifty. A chance to survive. A chance to die. And the baby, God, the baby. My mi
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The mirror reflected back a man I barely recognized. I was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, the white of my shirt against the deep charcoal vest, I looked every bit the groom. My cufflinks were made of gold, engraved with my family’s crest. The tie was perfectly knotted, not a single wrinkle in sight. So why the fuck did my pulse feel like a war drum in my chest? “She’s not running, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Nikolai drawled from the couch, glass of whiskey in hand. He looked as put together as ever, but there was amusement in his eyes. “The only person who might run is you.” I shot him a dry look, fastening the last button of my jacket. “I’d rather be shot between the eyes.” Nikolai smirked, “That could be arranged.” I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my jaw. “You ready?” I asked him. He lifted his glass in a silent toast. “To your last few minutes as a free man.” I rolled my eyes heavenwards, adjusting my cuff. “Let’s g
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The second we stepped inside, Alessandro had me against the wall, his body pressing into mine like he couldn’t stand the space between us. I moaned into his mouth, clawing at his jacket, shoving it off his shoulders. My fingers worked fast, unbuttoning his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of muscle beneath as I slid my hands down his chest, nails raking lightly over his skin before pausing over the bandages where he’d been shot. The wound was nearly healed, but I still handled it with care. My fingers trembled there, hesitation flickering through me for the briefest moment. His hands tore my shirt over my head, his fingers finding the clasp of my bra, snapping it open with a single flick. It slid off, leaving me bare. His mouth never left mine, but his hands moved lower, unbuttoning my jeans, pushing them down my hips. I arched into him, needy, aching, tugging at his belt, pulling it free, hands sliding under the waistband of his pants. He grabbed my wrists, slammi
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The waiting room felt like a prison. The sharp scent of antiseptic burned my nose, and the cold, sterile lighting overhead made everything feel like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. My fingers were clenched so tightly around the arms of the chair that my nails dug into my palms. My entire body was trembling, my lungs struggling to pull in air past the lump in my throat. Brandon sat beside me, his hand on my shoulder. On my other side, Felicity clung to my arm, her small fingers digging in. Across from us, Alessandro’s family filled the space. Nikolai stood with his arms crossed, his jaw locked so tight I swore I could hear his teeth grinding. Scott was pacing, his usual cheerfulness was gone, replaced by a dark look. Lorenzo sat with his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, staring at the floor. Marco leaned against the wall, his head tipped back, eyes closed, but I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw. Bianca was holding onto Stefano, her entir
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ Francesca. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She shouldn’t be here. No one had seen or heard from her in months. The last thing I knew, Nikolai had taken everything from her. Every cent, every luxury, every privilege that came with the Costello name. He had stripped her down to nothing and cast her out. No security, no connections, no power. She was gone. Or at least, she was supposed to be. Her gaze locked onto mine, and with a slow, movement of her fingers beckoned me forward. Her eyes darted around, scanning the room, before she turned sharply on her heels, heading toward the back doors that led into the gardens. She wanted me to follow. For a split second, I considered ignoring her entirely, letting the past rot where it belonged. But then Viviane. Because if I didn’t handle this? She would. And despite every instinct screaming at me to leave her to it. I moved. The moment I stepped through the doors, it wasn’t the night I felt, it
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The whiskey in my glass barely moved as I leaned against the bar, listening to the low murmur of conversation around me. The party was in full swing, music humming through the space as we talked. Tonight, however, the topic of discussion was different. “We let them have their fun,” Nikolai said simply. Scott raised an eyebrow. “Fun? Fun?” He let out a laugh, “Niko, they’re not starting a book club. They’re going after human traffickers. You know, murdery people. Like us. Except worse, because they don’t have the rules we do.” Stefano sighed, “They’re going to do it whether we like it or not.” “Exactly,” I murmured, rolling my glass between my fingers. “Which is why we control it.” Marco frowned, “They won’t let us.” I smirked, “They won’t know.” That got their attention. Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “Explain.” I took a slow sip of my whiskey before setting the glass down. “Their company is already operational. Websites, bank accounts, safe houses
Lilianna »»»◈««« I had precisely one shot at this. If I told Marco under normal circumstances, he’d shut it down immediately. If I waited, he’d find out anyway—because he’s Marco. He’d outmaneuver me, corner me, and by the time I realized what he was doing, it would already be over. So I had to be strategic. Which is exactly why I waited until he was inside me. It wasn’t playing fair but I wasn’t playing. Marco had me on my hands and knees, my spine arched. His grip on my hips held me in place. One of his hands left my hip, sliding up the curve of my back, pressing between my shoulder blades, pushing me deeper into the mattress. I pressed my cheek against the mattress and whispered, "I started my own company." His movements slowed, uncertain like he wasn't sure he heard me right. I pressed my face harder into the mattress, "A rescue organization. Human trafficking, organ trafficking—" I rambled on and on. Marco’s fingers tightened bruisingly on my hips. And then he