MIGUELShe should have just died in that accident. It would have been better for everyone if she did.I stood by the window of my room with my arms folded tightly across my chest as I stared into the deepening twilight. The sky outside had bled into a bruised purple, shadows stretching long across the neighbourhood rooftops, but I hardly noticed any of it. My focus was locked inward on the boiling resentment twisting through me like smoke. From downstairs, Emily’s cries pierced the stillness reminding me of the storm that had moved back into this house.She was back. The bitch.Her return felt like a noose tightening around my throat. She was already taking up too much space, her voice dragging down every breath I tried to take. Every moan, every whimper from the living room tore at the fragile peace I’d been clinging to since Salvatore entered my life. She was shattering everything, as usual.Emily had always made things worse. Her brand of love had always come with strings, with
SALVATOREI blinked at Miguel, confused for a second.I knew something was off. He’d been quiet the entire ride, and his mood was sour even before we even left the house, but he hadn’t said a word about it.So I thought it was Emily weighing on him. I thought the heaviness in his chest belonged to her.But then he had suddenly snapped.“What the fuck is that?” he demanded, his finger stabbing toward the warehouse entrance where Karl had just disappeared with my coat. The fire in his eyes startled me. He had the kind of anger that was spontaneous and confusing. My heart jumped, my brow furrowing as I turned to him.“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice low but laced with concern. I stepped in closer, lifting my hands, instinct pushing me to touch him, but he swatted my hand away.His movements were sharp, his glare like a strike. He pointed again, the fury in him shaking loose. “When did you two get so damn close?” he bit out. “Why was he grinning at you like a sheep in heat, Sal? What th
PROLOGUEMIGUELThe room was dim, shadows licking the walls as the single lamp cast a golden glow over Salvatore’s broad frame. He stood some feet away, shirt unbuttoned, that dagger tattoo peeking out beneath his collarbone. I swallowed loudly as his amber eyes burned into me like I was the only thing in the world worth devouring. My breath hitched, my chest getting tight with a mix of want and dread. I’d never done this, never let anyone tie me up, or trusted anyone to take me apart like he promised. My hands trembled as I stood by the bed, the silk ropes coiled on the mattress making my stomach twist. What if I couldn’t handle it? What if I broke?“Shh,” Salvatore murmured, his voice a low rumble that slid over my skin like a caress. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing my jaw. “You’re safe with me. I’ll take care of you.” His touch was firm but gentle as he tilted my chin up so I had to meet that smoldering gaze. The fire in his eyes was patient like he’d wait forever if it
MIGUELThe bar smelled like stale beer and desperation, a haze of cigarette smoke curling through the air as laughter and slurred voices bounced off the chipped walls.I wove through the crowd, tray balanced on one hand, while the other itched to shove someone—anyone—who got too close. At 20, I shouldn’t still be here, slinging drinks for tips I’d never see enough of, but life didn’t give a shit about age. My sneakers stuck to the floor with each step, the soles worn thin from nights like this. Endless, loud nights full of assholes who thought I was part of the menu. I adjusted my grip on the tray, four beers sloshing in their glasses as I caught a flicker in the corner of my eye. There, in the dark part of the club, in the shadowed nook where the lights didn’t dare reach, a figure sat still as stone, staring. Always staring.I rolled my eyes, gritting my teeth. Another fucking creep. The men here were predictable. Their eyes would crawl over me like I was some prize to paw at, mouth
MIGUELThe front door creaked as I shoved it open, the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hitting me like a slap. Home. If you could call it that. I kicked off my sneakers. The bar’s grime still clung to them, and I didn’t need screams from Emily about me soiling the house.I took the next step and paused as I heard it. Emily’s voice. She was loud and shameless, moaning like a damn porn star from upstairs. My stomach turned, but I kept moving, dragging my tired ass up the narrow staircase. Each step groaned under me. The wood was warped from years of neglect, and the closer I got with each creak, the louder her noises echoed off the peeling walls.“Jesus, woman, shut up,” I mumbled under my breath. I just wanted to crash, to wash the day off me, especially the drunk’s hands, the shadow man’s stare, and the endless grind. But no, she had to make her private life a goddamn show.I hit the landing and cursed under my breath. Her bedroom door was flung wide open like she wante
SALVATOREI was here again, just as I’d been for the past week, nursing countless hard-ons and watching him do his job. It had taken everything in me not to leap at the drunk bastard that touched him three nights ago. Looked like my sexy interest had it under control though.I sat in the shadows, the dark corner of the bar swallowing me whole, but my eyes were still locked on him. The amber glow of the lamp barely touched him, but it was enough to trace the lean lines of his body as he moved between tables, tray in hand, serving drinks to men who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air. I’d been here almost every night for weeks, whiskey untouched, just watching. That lovely frame of his—wiry, sharp-edged, deceptively soft—hid a fire I couldn’t shake from my mind. Behind those hazel eyes clouded with pain, burned stubbornness and steel resolve that dared anyone to try controlling him. And fuck, I wanted to.I wanted to see him bend beneath me, break, beg, his defiance shattering into
MIGUELThe bar hummed with its usual chaos as I weaved through the tables, tray balanced in my hand, serving drinks to the same sorry bastards who stumbled in every night. Sweat clung to my skin but I kept moving, pouring shots, wiping down sticky surfaces, anything to keep my mind off last night.But my eyes betrayed me. They flicked toward that dark corner again, the one swallowed by shadows where he always sat. I could still feel his stare crawling over me, even now when I saw nobody there. The stool was empty, the whiskey glass gone. My chest tightened. Good. Maybe he’d finally fucked off.I couldn’t scrub it out of my head though. That bathroom. Him standing there with bloody knuckles, staring down at that crumpled drunk like he’d just squashed a roach. Contempt had burned in his eyes, while blood smeared the tiles like some fucked-up painting. I’d seen plenty of bar fights, plenty of assholes getting what they deserved, but that? That was different. He’d done it for me. Said it
MIGUELI sucked in a sharp breath, the cold air biting my lungs as I moved away from the wall. My body shook, still buzzing from where Salvatore’s fingers grazed my face. I looked around the street which was alive with flickering lights and stumbling drunks. Nobody seemed to notice me.I was just another shadow slipping through the chaos. I forced my legs to move. I needed my bed, my locked door, and something solid to shut out the mess in my head.But as I walked, something pricked at the edge of my vision. A shape, too steady to be drunk, was trailing just out of sight. My gut twisted. I didn’t turn my head or give away my tension. I kept moving, darting my eyes to the corner to avoid a surprise hit.There it was again. A broad form, lurking, sticking to the shadows like a damn ghost. My pulse kicked up. No way I was leading this creep straight to my place. I had enough to deal with at home. I couldn’t add lewd visits from a horny weirdo. I veered left suddenly and ducked into an a
SALVATOREI blinked at Miguel, confused for a second.I knew something was off. He’d been quiet the entire ride, and his mood was sour even before we even left the house, but he hadn’t said a word about it.So I thought it was Emily weighing on him. I thought the heaviness in his chest belonged to her.But then he had suddenly snapped.“What the fuck is that?” he demanded, his finger stabbing toward the warehouse entrance where Karl had just disappeared with my coat. The fire in his eyes startled me. He had the kind of anger that was spontaneous and confusing. My heart jumped, my brow furrowing as I turned to him.“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice low but laced with concern. I stepped in closer, lifting my hands, instinct pushing me to touch him, but he swatted my hand away.His movements were sharp, his glare like a strike. He pointed again, the fury in him shaking loose. “When did you two get so damn close?” he bit out. “Why was he grinning at you like a sheep in heat, Sal? What th
MIGUELShe should have just died in that accident. It would have been better for everyone if she did.I stood by the window of my room with my arms folded tightly across my chest as I stared into the deepening twilight. The sky outside had bled into a bruised purple, shadows stretching long across the neighbourhood rooftops, but I hardly noticed any of it. My focus was locked inward on the boiling resentment twisting through me like smoke. From downstairs, Emily’s cries pierced the stillness reminding me of the storm that had moved back into this house.She was back. The bitch.Her return felt like a noose tightening around my throat. She was already taking up too much space, her voice dragging down every breath I tried to take. Every moan, every whimper from the living room tore at the fragile peace I’d been clinging to since Salvatore entered my life. She was shattering everything, as usual.Emily had always made things worse. Her brand of love had always come with strings, with
MIGUEL“Salvatore?”The evening light dyed the room in deep ember, glowing on the walls like a slow‑burning fire. I stretched under the sheets and called again, “Salvatore?”Every inch of my body stung with fatigue and satisfaction. Memories surfaced in small, delicious flashes. I could still feel Salvatore’s mouth on my skin and hear his gravel‑rough whisper of my name.I was about to call his name again when I saw it: a single sheet of thick ivory paper perched on the nightstand. I reached for it, squinting my brows, though I already knew who had left it.‘Gone to the warehouse to make sure things are in order. Be back soon.’Just seeing his pen strokes made me excited. It was like he was still here with his hand curved at my waist. I traced one dark slash of ink with my thumb, then grabbed my phone.“Hey, baby,” Salvatore answered after a single ring. His voice filled the quiet like velvet over stone. “You’re up.”“I woke up to you missing,” I admitted, shifting so the covers po
SALVATORETight heat enveloped me as I pressed into him, the sensation flooding every nerve with fire. I grunted into his mouth. The feeling was almost too much.His hole gripped my cock with a perfect blend of heat and pressure that made my breath hitch and my thoughts blur. Miguel let out a sound of his own, deep and broken, as his nails dragged across my back and shoulders, carving lines of raw need into my skin. I trembled as I sank deeper, my hands gripping his hips like I was afraid he’d vanish if I let go. His legs locked around my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. Our chests collided, slick with sweat, and our breath mingled in the heavy quiet of the room.“Salvatore…”I kissed him harder, desperate to taste every inch of him. And I did.I didn’t rush. I took my time, letting each movement speak for me, making every thrust deliberate. Miguel matched me without hesitation. His hips lifted to meet mine, our rhythm syncing with a kind of f
MIGUELI stormed into my room and walked over to my window, where I stood, with my arms folded tightly across my chest and my jaw locked as I stared down at the street below. My thoughts were a mess, circling the same memory on repeat: Paul’s face, the sharp crack of Salvatore’s fist, and the way I had to step in before it got worse. The anger was still fresh, crawling under my skin, making my body feel like a live wire.I couldn’t tell exactly why I was pissed, but one thing was sure, I wasn’t happy with what Salvatore did. I heard Salvatore come in but didn’t look away from the window. The quiet brush of his footsteps on the floor moved closer, then I felt the sudden warmth of his arms slide around me from behind. His chest pressed gently against my back, his breath soft when it touched the side of my neck. I couldn’t take comfort in it. I pulled away and shrugged off his arms without a word. He didn’t push. His hands fell to his sides, his voice turning softly. “I’m sorry,” he
MIGUELIt was annoying watching her being clingy to my man. Yes, you heard that right. He's mine. I had to stand back when the doctor stepped in, causing her to let go of Salvatore.“She is lucky her lungs weren’t punctured,” the doctor was saying, his voice touched with relief as he adjusted his glasses. He stood at the foot of her hospital bed with a clipboard in hand, his gaze flicking between her monitors and Salvatore’s bulky frame.The cause of the accident was annoying. It was clear from Salvatore’s expression that he didn’t want to be here, but, well, he was the one that was called. Salvatore turned to her, his arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. “Why would you get in a car with your friends when you were all drunk?” His eyes narrowed.Emily shrank back against the pillows, her face pale and blotchy from tears. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, twisting it between them as she mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Her voice was soft and cracked.She should have just died.
SALVATOREMorning light filtered through the office window, soft and golden, slipping across the sheets in slow-moving bands. I was still wrapped around Miguel, my chest pressed to his back, my arm resting over his waist. His skin was warm beneath my palm, golden from the sun and slightly damp from sleep. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his bare shoulder, tasting the remnants of last night’s closeness. My hand drifted across the smooth line of his stomach, memorizing every dip and ridge.His hair was messy, curling slightly at the ends, and it smelled sweet, like rest and shampoo, like something I never wanted to stop breathing in. The scent of him clung to me and the sheets, and it made something soft unfold in my chest. This didn’t feel real. The feeling of him close to me, and how easy it had been, finally, to hold him like this. After everything. After all the blood and fire and doubt. Now he was here, asleep in my arms, peaceful in a way I’d never seen.I smiled witho
MIGUEL“I told you I’m fine,” I grumbled, but the words were weak even to my ears as Salvatore tore open the drawer.He wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t blame him. The fear I’d seen in his eyes in that warehouse was real. He grabbed antiseptic, bandages, ointments, and every other thing he needed to treat my cut. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid. We were finally back at the warehouse, and the men were celebrating their victory, but the bustle outside was barely audible through the thick walls.My name was on the lips of the men. They were surprised that I did that. Hell, someone even said he was surprised I’d been able to hold a gun properly. What a joke.He placed the supplies on the desk and turned toward me, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Sit,” he said. It was a command.I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand was already on my arm, guiding me toward the bed. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but I could feel his barely restrained fear.“I don’t care what yo
SALVATOREI didn’t know what to think. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking when I slapped John so hard that the sound cracked through the silence like a gunshot. He dropped to his knees from the force of it. Miguel gasped behind me, his hand darting up mid-air like he meant to stop me but couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. He stared at me, blinking, his eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief.My blood was boiling. The sight of Miguel’s blood—his skin sliced open—fueled a fire I couldn’t control. My rage was raw, blinding. My chest rose and fell in short, furious bursts.“What the hell, John?” I roared, my voice scraping through my throat as I stared down at him.He was already trying to stand. One hand was pressed to the concrete while the other wiped at the blood dribbling from a split in his lip. “What was so damn difficult about keeping Miguel safe? I told you to stay with him! I told you to hold him back, and you let him run into that mess. What kind of man are you?”M