XOXO, 💕
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I barely had the door open before Cindy shoved her way in like she owned the place. “Again?” I muttered, rubbing a hand down my face. “Again,” she chirped, kicking off her heels and making herself comfortable on my couch like she paid the damn rent. I exhaled slowly, shutting the door behind her. “Cindy, you have a husband. A very rich, very capable husband. Go harass him to take you shopping.” She wrinkled her nose, “Vincenzo is busy, Aurelia’s with the rest of the kids, and I have the entire afternoon to myself. Which means you are taking me shopping,” she pointed a manicured finger at me like I didn’t have a choice. “Because I don’t like this broody, closed-off version of Alessandro. I want my best friend back.” I smirked, leaning against the armrest. “I’m the same guy, Cinds.” She scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, please. The Alessandro Costello I know wouldn’t be holed up in his home, working himself into an early grave. You’re di
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ There she was again. That blonde. The one with the big, soft eyes and the delicate, sweet face. The one who looked like she had never had to fight for anything a day in her life. The one who probably laughed at all his jokes, never argued, never questioned him. The kind of woman who was easy to love. And Alessandro—he hugged her. Not the casual kind, not some polite, meaningless side hug. No, this was different. His arms wrapped around her like she belonged there, like she was something precious. Like she mattered to him. And of course, she did. I stood there like an idiot, forcing myself to watch, to take it in, to let it burn. She was probably perfect for him. The kind of woman who didn’t give him headaches, who didn’t come with baggage, with bloodstains on her hands. She probably made things easy, didn’t make him think too much, didn’t make him feel too much. Unlike me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, straightened my spine, and lifted my chin. Let
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ We sat in silence, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on us. No one spoke. No one even moved. Almost half an hour passed before the car door finally opened. Scott was the first to step inside. His gaze swept over us, before locking onto Allegra. In an instant, he was across the space, sinking into the seat beside her and then he pulled her into his lap. Allegra melted into him, burying her face in his chest as silent sobs wracked her body. Scott’s arms tightened around her, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes and pressed his face into her hair. A quiet exhale escaped him. A sound I had never heard from him before. It almost sounded like peace. The car filled up one by one, each of the men stepping inside with blood-streaked clothes, their faces hard, their eyes still burning with the remnants of violence. I scooted closer to the edge of the seat, away from them. I didn’t want to be here but I had no choice. Lorenzo slid in next to Delil
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The hum of the engine was the only sound, but I barely heard it over the pulse of my own rage. She wouldn’t look at me. She sat there, back straight, hands clenched in her lap like she could hold herself together with sheer will alone. Like she could pretend I wasn’t right fucking next to her. I leaned back, stretching into the seat, legs spreading wide, making myself comfortable. Owning the space, owning the moment. Owning her breath, even if she’d never admit it. But then I saw it, the way her shoulders locked, the way her throat moved when she swallowed, the way her fingers twitched. My eyes fell on the bruises on her wrists and without thinking, I reached for her. My fingers wrapped around her wrist. Her whole body turned to stone. I dragged my thumb over her skin, feeling the fresh bruises, they were dark marks in the shape of hands that weren’t mine. A muscle ticked in my jaw. I forced myself to breathe, to keep my grip soft when al
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ "What did he mean, Brandon?" My voice came out sharper than I intended as I followed him into my apartment, slamming the door behind me. He didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn around to look at me or acknowledge me. He just kept walking, tension rolling off his body. I stalked after him, grabbed his shoulder, and forced him to face me. “Brandon!” His eyes were cold when he finally faced me, “If you think I regret it, you’re wrong,” his voice was stern, harsh, “I’d do it again. A hundred times over.” I stared at him, my pulse pounding. “Regret what? Do what?” “Putting my family first. Putting you first,” he snapped, “I did what every real man would do, I made sure my sister was safe, healthy, alive. And if that meant telling him to walk away, then so be it.” The words hit like a slap, "Walk away?" I blinked rapidly, trying to process, my mind scrambling for something, anything that would make sense of what I was hearing. Eight months. Eight months of silence, of ac
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ There was a brief moment where time seemed to slow, where I felt the gentle tug at my waist, where my heart stuttered in realization— Then, with one horrifying, stomach-dropping motion, the towel slid from my body and pooled at my feet. Silence. Alessandro exhaled slowly, his gaze raking down my now very, very naked body, lingering in places that made my skin burn. I made a strangled noise, scrambling to grab the towel, my hands fumbling as I tried to wrap it back around me. My entire body was on fire, although he had seen me naked many...many times. Alessandro didn’t look away, his fingers flexing slightly around the bouquet. I was going to die. Right here. On my kitchen floor. Naked. I yanked the towel tighter around me, my knuckles white from how hard I was gripping it. I forced my face into something resembling composure. Felicity was too busy scratching Magnus behind the ears to notice the absolute disaster happening right in front of her. And wor
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “I want you to break up with Logan, Viviane.” She froze, her eyes snapping to mine, a deep frown pulling at her lips. “What the hell did you just say?” I stepped further into her office, my eyes trailing over the clean, organized space. Everything in its place, just like her. She looked so satisfied with her life now—probably because she was the one in charge. She hated being told what to do, whether it was by the FBI… or me. And that just made me want to bend her to my will even more. But standing here, in the middle of her domain, with that fire burning in her eyes...I liked her more in here. Loved her more in here. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to make her lose that control, make her crawl to me, shatter that sense of bossiness until she was breathless and mine. “You heard me, Freckles,” I murmured, as I walked toward her desk. “I don’t give a fuck what you think you have with him. End it. We both know it isn’t real,” I tilted m
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The table was cluttered with files, blueprints, laptops, and half-drunk cups of coffee. Our servers were up and running, secure lines established, and Allegra’s medical setup was almost complete. It still needed finishing touches, but the foundation was there. Two weeks in, and Nightfall Ops was no longer just an idea. It was a machine in the making. “Alright,” I said, tapping my fingers against the table. “Update me.” Allegra pushed a file toward me, rubbing her temple. “The medical wing is almost set up. I have a full list of potential recruits, doctors, nurses, trauma specialists. A few of them are clean. The rest... well, let’s just say they are on our husbands’ payroll.” I flipped through the file, nodding, “What about safe houses?” Bianca took a seat. “Two are ready. Fully furnished, secured but I need another week before they’re usable.” Evangeline looked up from her tablet. “That’s fine. We won’t need all of them immediately, but when we do, I want
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