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Chapter 36 - No Longer Needed.
Last Updated:
2024-12-16 13:01:49
JanedoewritingsWho do you think was behind the fire? Enjoy! XOXO 💋
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Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Lesson number 1: Gloves. Lesson number 2: No one is innocent, Not in this world. Lesson number 3: Never, ever trust anyone. And most important of all: I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine. That was the deal, wasn’t it? He said he’d protect what was his and he meant it. And against every ounce of reason, against instincts screaming at me to walk away, I loved him for it. Because if Alessandro taught me anything, it’s that protecting what’s yours isn’t just a promise. It’s a purpose. And when I have a purpose, I don’t hesitate, I get to work. The security cameras were easy. I wrote a custom loop override script last week. It froze the feed leading to the records room, cycling the same static image to make everything look normal. The timestamps matched perfectly. Carl in the security room? He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Probably had his feet up, sipping his third vending machine coffee of the night. He’d see the footage, glance at the clock
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Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The room was cold and too quiet, the kind of quiet that crawled under your skin and makes you shiver. The only sounds were the soft tapping of keys as the polygraph operator prepped the machine. My pulse thrummed in my ears, loud enough that I wondered if they could hear it too. The chair they had me in was straight-backed and uncomfortable, positioned dead center in the room like a bullseye. Wires and straps were secured to me: one around my chest, another on my arm, sensors on my fingertips. I felt like a lab rat, stripped of any dignity, every breath I took measured and recorded. Across from me, Special Agent Hanson sat, clipboard in hand. Fitz stood in the corner, arms crossed, his face a mask of disappointment and scrutiny. “You know how this works, Kane,” Hanson said, his voice clipped, “Answer with a simple yes or no. Any deviations will be noted. Understood?” “Yes,” I said, my voice was steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “Good.” He glance
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Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The morning felt colder than it should have been for late spring. Or maybe it was just me, a lingering frost settling deep in my chest since I opened my eyes. The suit jacket rested across the back of the chair in my room, its dark fabric catching the faint light from the window. Black-on-black. Not tie. A tie said I was here to play by the rules, and I wasn’t. The trial wasn’t about proving anything, not guilt, not innocence, not morality. It was about breaking us. I adjusted my cuffs in the mirror, letting my reflection stare back. Dead eyes that don’t blink enough to look human. I’d scare myself if I didn’t already know the things I’m capable of. Viviane. The name sits heavy in my mind, like an ache I can’t quite shake. I shouldn’t think about her now, not when everything is riding on today but she’s there, always there at the back of my mind, refusing to leave. She’s not here now. She’s probably somewhere safe, out of sight, out of reach. Smart. If sh
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin Chapter 98 - A near-death experience.
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
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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
Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin Chapter 96 - To new beginnings
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
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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
Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin Chapter 94 - Marco and Lilianna
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
