So, do you all think Viviane is starting to fall for Alessandro? And Ghost is here? Who else missed him? Don't forget to leave a comment and vote—I’d love to hear your thoughts! XOXO 💋
Ghost ☩═☠︎︎═☩ I grabbed her arm, rougher than I should have, my fingers digging in as she tried to jerk back. She had no idea how much she was messing with my head. I slipped my gloved hand into her soaked hair, yanking her head back until her neck was arched, exposed. Her breath hitched, and for a second, I wanted to rip the damn glove off, feel the heat of her skin against mine. But I didn’t. No, that would give her too much. I adjusted the voice modulator under the mask, staring down at her. She looked up at me, one wrong move, and she’d figure it all out. No, I needed her nice and compliant, bound, blindfolded, stripped of that attitude and maybe even gagged before I even thought of slipping off this mask. With one rough pull, the towel slipped from her body, falling to the floor and pooling around her feet, leaving her bare, her skin flushed under my hands. Every place I touched turned a deeper shade of red, against her pale skin. I let go of her hair, my other hand sti
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ Francesca’s eyes searched mine, and the moment she realized I wasn’t going to hug her back, she pulled away, her expression shifting as hurt flashed across her face. “How long are you going to punish me?” she asked, her voice cracking, barely holding it together. I just shook my head, walked past her into the living room, and sank onto her couch, stretching out like I owned the place. “I’m not punishing you. I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied coolly, giving her that detached, unreadable look I knew drove her crazy. She followed me, standing there, still wrapped in her silk robe, “Yeah, you’re here, after I begged you for a year to come. A year, Alessandro.” I leaned back, resting one arm on the couch’s headrest, legs stretched out, “It wasn’t exactly easy to look at you after what you did.” She took a step closer, right into my space, standing between my legs, “It was a mistake, Alessandro, a huge mistake. I don’t even know what I was thinking.” My eyes loc
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Have you ever stood in a room and felt that every set of eyes was waiting for you to slip up, to give them some reason to tear you down? That's exactly what it felt like standing there, surrounded, with all of them staring me down. Their looks weren’t normal—they were filled with accusations and suspicions, as if they were all in on some shared vendetta against me. My gut was screaming that they didn’t just want me gone—they wanted to see me dead. Everyone in this room was the kind who played mental chess with their eyes closed. And I knew I had to be two moves ahead, outthink them before they even made their first play. I took a step back, searching Alessandro’s eyes. No—he wouldn’t just take their word for it, would he? They thought I’d stolen two damn laptops. It took everything I had not to laugh at the absurdity of it. As if I’d be careless enough to get caught over something as amateur as that. Alessandro already knew about the sensitive data I printed
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ Nikolai stood close to the vast windows of my office, his gaze slicing through the city skyline. Hands deep in his pockets, as he took in every word I said.. After a pause, he turned just slightly, a sliver of impatience in his eyes. “What’s your take about this?” I leaned back, feeling the familiar tension twist in my gut, “If there’s a problem on my side, I’ll take care of it.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “It’s not you I’m concerned about,” he let the words hang in the air, “It’s that girl. There’s something… off. She’s not what she seems.” My grip tightened around the pen, rolling it between my fingers as I stared ahead, “I told you, she’ll be dealt with. You have my word.” He didn’t respond, just gave a brief nod. We both knew what that promise meant, and it wouldn’t end with Viviane walking away like she had done a few hours ago. Frankie stepped into my office, his face lost all its color when he saw Nikolai, he clasped his hands tightly behind his b
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ It felt like my body had been steamrolled. Or, well, almost. Technically, I hadn’t been steamrolled, just hit by a car, but every cell in my body protested like it had been. Pain radiated everywhere, like I’d been stretched thin and dragged over gravel. Breathing hurt. Blinking hurt. Even thinking hurt. The doctor leaned over me, his face a blur that slowly sharpened as I blinked and tried to focus. “Let’s run through a few things, okay? Can you tell me your name?” he looked at me, pen poised. I blinked, fighting through the haze. “Viviane Kane, unfortunately still very alive.” He raised an eyebrow, “Can you tell me where you are?” I glanced around, taking in the too-bright lights and sterile smell. I wasn't in my home or in Alessandro's torture chamber, “Either a hospital, or someone with an incredibly clean fetish dungeon.” A smile almost escaped him, but he held it back, “Good sense of humor, seems like your brain is working just fine. Now, how many fin
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “Son, you know she’s been watching you for a while now,” his father murmured, eyes cutting to a young woman across the club, who was throwing suggestive glances at Alessandro. Alessandro barely looked her direction, he was more focused on his conversation with Scott. He was twenty, and he'd only come tonight because it was his birthday and his father, Vito, insisted on throwing a party. He didn't know that it would be the last one they’d celebrate together or he would have been nicer to him. “I don’t care, let her look,” Alessandro replied casually, sipping his whiskey and keeping his attention on Scott, one of the few people who understood his tech obsession. Vito gave a frustrated sigh, “Alessandro, I’ve been noticing something,” he said, “In all these years, not once have I seen you with a woman. Not once. Even at your initiation, you turned down every opportunity to fuck. It’s unnatural.” he raised an eyebrow, “Your cock works alright? Or should I be wo
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I’d never had anyone take care of me like this before. Growing up, Brandon and Stella did what they could, but life pulled them in other directions too early. College, jobs, and other stuff that kept them busy. They tried, but there was only so much they could do before they were gone. With my parents...well, I learned young that if I didn’t look after myself, no one else would. I practically raised myself. Then there were the men I dated. I’d picked one narcissist after another, guys who saw caring for anyone as something beneath them, or worse, as a woman’s job. My last ex wasn’t just self-absorbed—he was the type who thought cooking, cleaning, and even basic decency belonged on my side of the line, no matter what I had on my plate. So, sitting here now, watching him in my tiny kitchen compared to the spacious and luxurious ones he was used to, it was like seeing something out of place but so right. He was supposed to be untouchable Costello, all danger and c
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The past 24 hours had been a blur—a storm of panic, decisions, and a speed I wasn’t prepared for. No time to think, no time to tell Brandon. I knew exactly what his reaction would be—he’d lose his mind, try to put a stop to it, argue about Alessandro’s influence and the strings he’d pulled. But I couldn’t afford that argument, not now. Not when Fliss’s life was hanging in the balance. Everything moved at a breakneck pace. By the time we got to the hospital, the donor—some poor child closer to Felicity's age, who’d just lost their life—was already prepped. I didn’t even have a moment to process what that meant, what we were really doing here. Alessandro didn’t give me a chance; he had it all under control, every detail. He took over, directing doctors and nurses, smoothing over paperwork while I just stood back. He made me feel that again—soft femininity, seen, and safe in a way that made me forget I ever had to stand alone. I should have felt gratitude, but the p
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