Enjoy! 😊 XOXO, 💋
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Scott dragged a chair across the room, the legs scraping against the floor in a sound that made my teeth clench. He didn’t seem to care about the noise, though; he was grinning like this was his favourite sick game. Alessandro carried a second chair in one hand, a gun in the other, the weight of it swinging casually at his side. They positioned the chairs back-to-back, like they were setting up for an execution. Once the chairs were in place, they each took a side—Scott on one, Alessandro on the other. My heart pounded like it was about to burst, my eyes flicking to Angelo and Joey. Their gazes locked onto mine, filled with silent, desperate pleas. Joey’s chin quivered, and in that moment, a fierce instinct surged through me, I would protect those boys with everything I had. “Sit,” Alessandro ordered. Angelo and Joey exchanged a terrified glance, their faces pale as ghosts as then they looked at me again, but they didn’t dare to refuse them. Scott grabbed Joey
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I used to think nothing could break me. That I was untouchable. Unshakable. Unbreakable. And now I was curled up on the couch in Brandon’s empty apartment, clutching a spoon like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. A half-melted pint of chocolate ice cream sat in my lap, barely touched, while some cheesy rom-com played on the TV. Never thought I’d end up here. Viviane Kane, the one who walked away before anyone else could reduced to this. Alone. Pathetic. Watching strangers pretend love fixes everything while mine left me shattered. Maybe this is what karma looks like. Maybe I deserved it. I thought I could handle anything. Thought I could keep my walls high and my heart out of reach. But then Alessandro happened. And now...now I couldn’t even hold myself together. The tears came before I could stop them, hot and bitter, sliding down my face in waves that wouldn’t let up. I wiped at them angrily, furious at myself for feeling this way.
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “God forbid anything in your world not revolve around her,” she spat and I could hear the hurt buried underneath her words, “Your loyalty. Your blind devotion. She could burn you alive, Alessandro, and you’d still protect her. You’d throw me to the flames just to keep her warm.” I opened my mouth to argue, to explain, but no words came. I couldn’t even breathe past the knot in my chest. How could she think that? Viviane stood there, glaring at me, she wrapped her arms around herself like a shield, not against the world—against me. And it wrecked me because I could see it in her eyes. She believed every word she said. She thought I’d put Francesca above her, that I’d choose anyone over her. She couldn’t be more wrong. “You don’t get it,” I finally bit out, “You think this is about her? You think I’d protect her over you? Goddammit, Viviane, you are so far off the mark, it’s insane.” Her jaw tightened, “Am I?” she muttered, “Then explain it, Alessandro. Ex
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice was barely audible. She leaned in, her forehead pressed against mine, “Why?” she repeated, “Well... because you did it to me. You took everything I hated about myself and made me live in it, drown in it. And now?” her hands slid up to cup my face, her lips just brushing my ear as she hissed, “It’s your turn.” I clenched my teeth, fighting the instinct to lash out at her, to tell her to stop, to end this insanity. But I knew if I said a word, if I gave her even an inch, this madness would spiral out of control. I needed to get it over with once and for all. “You don’t like this, do you?” she murmured, her voice honey-sweet, she took another drag, the ember glowing bright, and then tilted her head, exhaling the smoke directly at my neck. It clung to my skin, suffocating, and I fought the urge to jerk away. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Her breath was warm agai
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Numbness. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was the absence of it, a void where something should have been. Like standing in the middle of a fire and not feeling the heat. It was the cruelest kind of punishment because it wasn’t pain—it was the loss of even that. I looked at him, the man I would’ve given everything for, the man I still would and felt the kind of emptiness that comes from feeling too much for too long. I loved him. I loved him so much it hurt. But that love had hollowed me out, until all that was left was this ache I couldn’t get rid of. It wasn’t that I stopped caring, I couldn’t even if I tried. He was still the one I’d die for, still the one I’d burn my entire world down for. But when I looked at him now, there was this cold, cruel distance between us, and I didn’t know if it was his fault or mine. I wanted to scream at him, shake him, make him see what he was doing to me. But instead, I just sat there, silent, staring at the man who still owned ev
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Stella’s favorite pink gown. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The silk clung to me in all the ways it used to cling to her like it was made for her and no one else. My hands trembled as they smoothed over the fabric, my fingertips skimming the delicate spaghetti straps, the soft sheen of the silk, the open back that dipped low. It felt wrong and right all at once, wearing this. Like I was trespassing into a memory that didn’t belong to me but still clung to me like a second skin. My vision blurred, and I had to blink hard to clear the moisture pooling in my eyes. She lent it to me. I remember the way she smiled as she handed it over, the way she laughed and said, “You’ll look better in it than I ever could.” She was lying, of course. Stella lit up every room she walked into, and in this dress, she looked like a star. She lent it to me but I never got the chance to wear it. And I never got the chance to give it back. My chest tightened as I wrapped
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ In the mirror’s reflection, I saw him. I spun around immediately, my heartbeat went haywire. Without thinking, I moved to push past him, my shoulder brushing against his arm as I headed for the door. His hand shot out, gripping my waist that stopped me in my tracks. Before I could react, he pulled me back, positioning himself in front of me. I shoved his hand off with more force than necessary and tried again to move past him. But he was faster. Both of his hands found my waist this time, locking me in place. And then he lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing and set me on the sink counter. My hands shot out to push him away, I opened my mouth, ready to tell him exactly where he could go, but his finger pressed against my lips. “Shhh, just shhh...” his gaze said, though his lips didn’t move. My chest heaved as anger burned through me. My lips pressed into a tight line as I glared at his face, but his focus wasn’t on my face. His eyes had already dro
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ “Alessandro,” Evangeline began casually, twirling her wine glass by the stem, “I’ve been thinking about what you said in Nikolai’s office the other day.” I didn’t even realize my hand had tightened around my fork until I heard the faint scrape against the plate. My eyes flicked to her briefly, then instinctively to Alessandro, who sat across the table. He frowned at her, “What about it?” Evangeline tilted her head slightly. She lazily moved her fork through the air, like she was painting an invisible picture. “Oh, nothing really. It’s just something you said stuck with me,” she sipped her wine slowly, “That little comment you made about how ‘boys don’t get abused,’” she said, mimicking his words, her voice lilting mockingly. “And then you added, what was it?” she snapped her fingers, “Ah, right, ‘boys enjoy it.’” I froze in place, unable to bring the fork to my mouth. Did she really just say that? Here? Like this? My eyes went to Francesca sitting at the far end an
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