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Blood, Business, and Betrayal
Last Updated:
2025-03-24 23:46:38
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Third person pov The dimly lit room smelled of blood and sweat, the air thick with tension. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows on the cracked concrete walls. The metallic scent of iron clung to the atmosphere, mixing with the stale odor of cigarette smoke.Victor knelt on the cold floor, his face battered and swollen, blood trickling from his split lip. His left eye was nearly swollen shut, a deep purple bruise forming around it. His hands trembled slightly as he kept them pressed against his sides, barely able to lift his gaze to the imposing figure seated before him.The man in the chair was silent for a long moment, merely observing Victor with cold, calculating eyes. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, a patient yet ominous gesture. Behind him, two guards stood motionless, their expressions unreadable, their presence filed with a silent warning. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but laced with danger."Tell me, Victor. Why didn'
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Gabriella's Pov I didn’t pack anything. Not a damn thing. Just grabbed my phone, my shoes, and the last bit of dignity I had left. I stormed down the hall of that cold marble prison, the mansion they called home but felt more like a cage. My blood was boiling. Boiling so hot I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts over it.I needed out. Out of the walls, out of his shadow, out of Italy.But first, I needed to get through the goddamn gate."Ma'am, we can’t let you pass," the security guard said, his voice rough like I was asking for the damn moon."Let me out," I gritted out, my fists clenching at my sides. "Orders from Don Alessio himself. You are not permitted to leave.""Are you serious right now? I'm not your prisoner."He didn’t blink. Just stood there like some soulless statue, blocking the path with the weight of blind loyalty. The others behind him looked everywhere but at me. Cowards."You can’t keep me here!" I shouted, and oh, I didn't care who heard. "This is kidnapping. It’
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Gabriella’s PovI couldn’t stop smiling.Even as I poured milk into my cereal bowl that morning, I caught myself humming a tune I didn’t even recognize. Last night’s kiss with Alessio was still fresh on my lips, warm in my chest, and somehow, despite everything, it made me feel... light. Giddy even.It was insane. Completely.I mean, this was Alessio. The same man who believed ...truly believed…..that my father had murdered his parents. And yet, here I was, in his kitchen, barefoot in one of his T-shirts, acting like we were a normal couple having a normal morning.Except we weren’t. We were anything but normal. And that truth made me sad. I sat at the table, watching him silently as he brewed coffee. His shoulders were tense, lips pressed into a flat line. He hadn’t said much since waking up. That kiss from last night lingered between us like fog. It was thick and unspoken. I stirred my cereal, then finally spoke up. “Alessio,” I said, my voice soft.He glanced at me, brows raised
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Third person pov The man sat in the chair, his fingers twitching, his jaw clenched tight. Shadows from the dim ceiling light danced across the sharp lines of his face. His eyes, cold and unblinking, stared ahead as though he could burn a hole through the wall with rage. His patience was getting thin and tonight, he was expecting one thing: confirmation of Alessio De Luca’s death.The silence around him buzzed with tension, broken only by the faint ticking of the old clock hanging crooked on the wall. The air in the room was heavy, suffocating almost, as if it too awaited the news. His men knew better than to keep him waiting. And yet, they were late.Then, the door creaked open slowly. One of his trusted men, Samuel, stepped in. His face was pale, eyes flickering with nervous energy as he approached. The man didn’t move, didn’t speak. He only watched.Samuel swallowed hard and said, “Alessio…moved to Italy.”At first, the words made no sense. The man blinked slowly, processing what h
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Alessio's Pov I sat in my seat, arms crossed, pretending not to look at her.But I was.I couldn’t help it.Gabriella. God she was so fucking beautiful. Lying there like the world never broke her. Like her father didn’t ruin mine.And that pissed me off. More than it should. I know I have to let go of the past but I can't. Her face was soft in sleep, peaceful even.Too peaceful.Her lips were slightly parted, lashes long, one hand curled near her cheek.She looked innocent. Way too innocent.I should’ve hated her. I wanted to hate her.But instead, I was staring like a lovesick idiot.Hell no.What the fuck was wrong with me?I leaned back, exhaled slowly.I needed to get my shit together.This girl was off-limits.She was the daughter of the man who killed my spirit, destroyed everything I cared about.And yet...Here she was.On my jet.Wearing my hoodie.Sleeping like she belonged in my world.God.I ran a hand over my face and muttered, “Get a fucking grip, Alessio.”But my eye
