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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
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I'd never felt the urge to stomp someone so hard I’d leave an imprint, but this bitch? She was testing my patience like no one else ever had. There were a lot of things I could handle, but watching her perfectly manicured hand reach out, to touch Alessandro’s tux? Yeah, that wasn’t one of them. Her smile was all sweetness and sugar, but I could see right through it—she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all me. She leaned in, eyes lingering on him in a way that made my blood simmer, fingers brushing his lapel. “Can we talk for a moment... alone?” she asked, voice dripping with a little too much familiarity as she toyed with his collar. A heat rose up in me, a possessiveness I’d only felt for Fliss but somehow ten times more potent. In the span of a second, my mind was made up. I didn’t think, I just acted. My hand shot out, and I slapped her hand away from him—not a gentle brush-off either, but a smack that echoed in the space around us. Francesca jerked her hand b
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ From the corner of my eye, I watched Viviane—laughing, head thrown back, that carefree sound spilling out of her like it belonged in a different world than mine. What really got me was that even Bianca was laughing along with the rest of them. Bianca, who I expected to pull her usual crap, throw a snide remark, stir up trouble, or worse, drop some comment meant to chip away at me in front of Viviane but none of it happened. She was smiling like she wasn’t the viper I knew her to be. And it twisted something dark in me, this realization that Viviane fit here more easily than I wanted her to. I hated it—seeing her at ease with people, people who shouldn’t get to know her, who shouldn’t get to see her this relaxed. That laughter, those little smiles... They weren’t for them. They shouldn’t be. I realized it in that moment: Viviane wasn’t someone I could just share. Not here, not with them, maybe not with anyone. She’s mine. And the thought of anyone
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I stormed out of that suffocating mansion, cursing under my breath, every step harder and faster than the last. The the weight of all their judgment and bullshit pressing down until I could barely breathe. I had to get out. Alessandro was right behind me, his hand in mine. He didn’t say a word, didn’t try to stop me. For once, he just followed, letting me lead the way without a fight. The second we stepped outside into the biting cold night air, I dropped his hand and sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t enough to calm me down. Not even close. I clenched my fists, trying to force myself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Come on, Viviane. Inhale and fucking exhale. My pulse was racing, my blood boiling from the crap I’d just dealt with in there. Those self-righteous assholes. Acting like I was the one out of line. Like they haven’t let Bianca run wild for years, making excuses for her tantrums because Daddy broke her precious heart. I let out a bitter laugh, my bre
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “It’s been six months,” Elijah Bolton’s voice echoed, as one of the Capos, he’d been in this business long enough to recognize a lost cause. “Six months, and we’ve found nothing. Whoever planned this was ten steps ahead, covered every angle. No trails, no witnesses, nothing. Face it—we may never see Vito again.” Luciano Costello, father of Nikolai and former head of the family, clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, and then slammed one down on the table with a crack that echoed around the room. “That’s my brother you’re talking about, dammit!” he thundered, anyone could hear the fury and grief that bordered on desperation in his voice, “I can’t—no, I won’t accept that. I’ll burn through every last cent I’ve got if that’s what it takes. Dead or alive, he’s a Costello, and he deserves a proper funeral, not to be some ghost everyone’s forgotten.” The men shifted uneasily, their eyes casting wary glances at each other, knowing that Luciano’s anger cou
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ We stood outside the courthouse, my FBI badge clipped to my belt. I forced myself to appear calm. The world was watching, even if I couldn’t see the cameras. Logan stood beside me. The faint smell of coffee clinging to him like always. “Viv,” Logan said softly, leaning closer so only I could hear. “We’re going to find her. You know that, right?” “I know,” I replied. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve got everyone on it, Viv. We’ll get her back.” I nodded stiffly, though I avoided looking at him. He meant well, but his words scraped against the rawness inside me. If only he knew. I didn’t need them to find Felicity, I’d made sure she was out of their reach. I needed them to believe me. And if I cracked, even for a second, it would all come crashing down. The faint rumble of engines pulled my attention, and Logan turned his head, squinting down the street. A line of sleek black SUVs rolled up, gleaming under the harsh midday sun. “Costello,” Logan muttered, his
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The front door slammed behind him, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. My whole body flinched, and I gripped the sheets tighter, holding onto them like they were the only thing that was real around me. My chest felt hollow, like he’d ripped something out of me on his way out. And no, it wasn’t the physical part...I could live with that. It was the words he’d left behind, cutting me open and leaving me bleeding in ways I couldn’t see. I still smelled like him—whiskey and his cologne. I let out a shaky breath, but it felt like it wasn’t enough, like I couldn’t get enough air. He was gone. My throat burned. I thought I was done crying, but the tears were there again, stinging my eyes. I looked around the room—his room. The bed was a mess, the black sheets wrapped around me. His glass was still on the nightstand, empty now, just like the bottle beside it. The faint morning light from the window stretched across the floor. I ran a hand through my hair, m
Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I swirled the whiskey in my glass, watching it catch the dim light from the rising sun. The bottle was empty now. I downed the last of the whiskey and set the glass down. I glanced over my shoulder. Viviane was still there, half-buried in my sheets. Her pale skin almost glowed against the black fabric, fragile like porcelain, like something I could shatter with the slightest pressure. Her breathing was shallow, the faintest hitch in each exhale told me she was alive. She wasn't crying anymore, but I’d felt her tremble once in a while. Now, she was still, too still, except for her fingers. They were curled into the sheet, clutching it like a lifeline. I turned back and stared at the wall in front of me. My shirt hung open, the buttons undone, the whiskey burning its way through my veins. I wasn’t drunk, not nearly. I wanted to feel every second of this. Loyalty was sacred, and she had none of it—neither professionally nor personally. She betrayed the FBI for
Viviane ☩═✦═☩ His tongue darted out, licking a tear from my jawline all the way to my cheek. The wet heat of it made me shudder. "You're such a pretty crier," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, "You should cry more often. It suits you." In an instant, coldness coursed through my veins. My chest tightened as I tried to blink through the haze of fear and disbelief, struggling to make sense of what I was hearing. I have heard these words before, haven't I? His head tilted slightly to look into my eyes, his lips curling into a harsh, twisted smile that made my stomach churn. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. I searched his face, desperate to convince myself I’d misunderstood, that I was imagining it. But then, his voice drove a spike of ice through my heart. “That’s it, Red,” he murmured, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to make me gasp for air, “Let me see it. Let me see all that pain you’ve been hiding.” My insides froze, the words slammed into me so
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
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
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
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
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.