MONIQUE
My therapist once told me about the four stages of rage. Annoyance, frustration, hostility—and then fury. I didn't think I had felt the first three, not really. But that final stage? The white-hot, blinding intensity of fury? I felt it now, burning through me like a fire I couldn't control.
I didn't cry when I watched my parents get murdered. I didn't cry at their funeral when they were lowered into the ground, the weight of grief suffocating me. But seeing the face of their killer? Discovering I had unknowingly spent the night with him, sharing an unforgettable, passionate encounter? That broke me in a way nothing else had.
The tears came before I could stop them, hot and bitter. The anger surged inside me, unstoppable, until I was shaking with the force of it. I locked myself in my bedroom all morning, burying my face in the pillows, letting the rage consume me until I had nothing left but exhaustion.
But I couldn't stay in that place. Not now. Not with so much at stake.
A soft knock on the door broke the silence. "Monique?" Richardson's voice was gentle but firm. "There's something you need to know."
I wiped my face quickly and sat up, trying to compose myself. "Come in."
He entered, his usual composed expression tinged with concern. "There's a high-stakes poker game happening tonight. All the big players in the New York scene are going to be there."
I arched an eyebrow, trying to shake off the weight of my emotions. "So?"
"This is your chance," he said, his voice steady. "Your chance to be properly introduced. To make connections with the real players. If you want to move forward, you need to be there. The Don would want you to be there."
I took a deep breath, letting the words sink in. He was right. As much as I wanted to drown in my anger and let it fester, I couldn't afford that luxury. Not now. Not when I was so close to what I needed—power, control, revenge.
"Secure me a spot," I said quietly, clearing my throat to conceal my hoarse voice. I'll be there." I looked up at Richardson, my trusted assistant. I could tell from his expression that he was itching to know why I was crying, but he knew not to ask.
He gave a firm nod, already reaching for his phone to start making arrangements.
But before he could leave, I stopped him, my mind racing with a new thought. "Richardson," I called after him, my voice low but sharp.
He paused at the door, turning back to me.
"Find out if someone named Liam Sterling will be in attendance," I said, narrowing my eyes as I spoke the name that now haunted my every thought. "I need to know if he's going to be there."
Richardson didn't ask questions, his face unreadable as he gave a small nod. "I'll find out."
Now that I knew he was out there, I needed to be strategic. I felt a small sense of relief knowing I could finally have a wine date with Vengeance.
---
Hours later, I sat across from Don Antonio at the long dining table, trying to focus on the beautiful spread of food in front of me. His estate was as peaceful as ever, with the sun filtering through the windows and a breeze from the garden carrying the smell of fresh flowers. It should've made me feel calm, but my mind was anything but.
"How are your plans coming along, niña?" Antonio asked as he poured himself another glass of wine.
"Slow but steady," I replied, cutting into my food with more care than was necessary. "I'm making the right connections. Step by step."
He nodded thoughtfully, watching me in that way he always did, like he saw more than I said. "Good. Your parents would be proud of what you're doing."
I froze for a moment, my fork hovering just above the plate. The mention of my parents always did that. It cut deeper than I ever let on. I swallowed hard, forcing a smile as I fought back the flood of emotions. He had no idea what I knew. No idea that I kept the face of the man who murdered my parents in my mind. And that was how it needed to stay.
"I hope so," I said quietly, pushing my food around. "But I'm doing this for me, too. To build something on my own."
Antonio's lips curled into a small smile, the kind that told me he saw right through me but wasn't going to press. "You've come a long way, Monique. And you're doing well. But remember, you don't have to do it all alone. If you ever need my help—"
"I know," I cut in quickly, meeting his gaze with a thankful smile, flashing one to the maid that came with a bowl of bread. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
I appreciated his offer, really. He'd been there for me when no one else had, guiding me into this world when I had no direction. And when it came to growing in the business, I'd be a fool not to lean on his wisdom. But this? What I planned for Liam Sterling? That was something I couldn't share. Not even with him.
If he knew I was going after the man who killed my parents, it would change everything. Antonio might try to protect me or, worse, stop me. This revenge was personal. It was mine, and I'd handle it my way. Alone.
He leaned back in his chair, seemingly content with my progress, and shifted the conversation to upcoming deals. I nodded along, pretending to be fully engaged, but my mind was elsewhere. The poker game was my next move, the door into the underground that I needed.
My phone buzzed lightly on the table, the screen lighting up with a message. I glanced at it casually, pretending not to care, but when I saw Richardson's name, my pulse quickened.
Richardson: Liam Sterling will be in attendance tonight.
I felt a strange rush, a mix of anxiety and excitement like everything was beginning to fall into place. So he would be there.
Later at night, I sat in the back of the car, staring out through the tinted windows at the entrance of the casino, my fingers absentmindedly tapping the armrest. The night was alive, the neon lights casting a hazy glow on the figures moving in and out of the building. It was almost poetic—this mix of elegance, power and corruption. Tonight, I was here to make my presence known among them. But first, I needed to play my cards right.
Richardson sat next to me, scrolling through his tablet, a deep frown on his face as he read through the names of people confirmed to attend. "I've got a solid list of players inside," he said, his voice low but clear. "David Torres—one of the major distributors from South America, notorious for cutting deals with the Russians. He'll be key in securing some international supply lines."
I nodded, eyes still locked on the casino doors. "Go on."
"And then there's Theodore Davalos, a club owner who runs some of the major fronts in New York. He's well acquainted with some of the other distributors; getting him on your side could mean locking down the city's drug nightlife."
The names didn't particularly interest me, but I knew their importance, I must have even heard my godfather mention them before. These were the people I needed to know, the people whose circles I had to aclimatise myself with. Yet, my focus wasn't on them tonight. Not really.
I leaned forward slightly, my gaze sharpening as a familiar figure emerged at the entrance of the casino. Liam Sterling. He stood there, casually talking to a few men—his posture relaxed, confident. That same air of control he had last night, the one that had drawn me in, now made my stomach churn with disgust. How could I not have known? The man who had killed my parents, standing there, smiling, oblivious to the fact that I was watching him, planning how I'd tear him apart.
"There he is," Richardson murmured, following my line of sight. "Liam Sterling. Dangerous man, though you already know that. If he's here, it means the stakes are high tonight."
I stayed silent, studying Liam's every movement. He was charismatic, blending seamlessly with the people around him, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries. It was strange, seeing him in this context—knowing what I knew. How many others had fallen for his charm, just like I had? How many people had no idea what kind of monster he really was?
"Are you not going in yet?" Richardson asked, breaking through my thoughts.
I shook my head slowly, tearing my gaze away from Liam. "Not yet."
Richardson looked at me, curious but respectful. "Waiting for something?"
I smirked, the cold edge of my plan sharpening in my mind. "Waiting for the perfect moment."
Timing was everything. I wasn't here just to make an entrance. I was here to make an impact, to catch Liam off guard. The element of surprise was my greatest weapon tonight.
I settled back in my seat, crossing my legs, and kept my eyes on the entrance. The night was young, and the game had just begun.
LIAMThe casino's entrance was a statement of luxury. As I stepped through the doors, the sound of slot machines and the low hum of conversation surrounded me. The air was filled with the scent of expensive cigars and the soft click of high heels on polished marble. The ladies couldn't hide their gawking--a usual occurrence I was already used to.I made my way toward the high-stakes room, my presence marked by the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Heads turned, and whispers followed in my wake. I offered courteous nods and firm handshakes here and there."Liam Sterling," a familiar voice called out. I turned to see David Torres, a seasoned distributor with a habit for theatrics. He extended his hand, which I took with a firm grip. "Good to see you. I hear you're quite the player tonight.""David. Always a pleasure."As I continued through the casino, I exchanged pleasantries with several other key figures. There was Carla Mendoza, a club owner with connections that stretched the whole o
LIAMAs soon as I left Felix, my irritation still pulsing beneath the surface, I gave him a clear directive: "Dig into this 'Queen of the West.' I want to know everything by morning."This day kept getting better and better, with more mysterious women throwing themselves in my path.This Queen of the West woman, whoever she was, sounded more like a joke and a waste of time, and I had a feeling the stunt she pulled back in the game room wouldn't be her last.I walked out of the casino, the glitzy lights doing nothing to calm the storm inside me. Once in the back of the car, I pulled out my phone and started making necessary calls. The night and my initial plans were already ruined. I needed to reshape my plans to gain new and bigger deals... more partnerships and expand my dealings far beyond the country. That was the aim when I first started to build my empire from the ground up.I decided to call the hotel contractor working on my newest hotel, which would open in a few weeks. The ma
MONIQUEIn my apartment, I leaned back against the plush cushions, thinking about the events of the day. Events that were so much more than all I'd done during my days in hiding put together. The weight of everything I'd set in motion hit me like unpacked luggage in my closet. Of course, it was overwhelming; I mean, I had only just found the man who took my family from me.Richardson was rummaging through my kitchen, maybe trying to fix us a drink. "How did they respond?" I asked as he joined me in the living room and handed me a cup of tea.He sank into the armchair across from me, his eyes steady. "The message landed just as expected. Most of them didn't know what to say. Liam, though... you saw him just before he left the casino. He had plenty on his mind, but he kept it bottled up. Didn't want to crack in front of everyone."A small smile tugged at my lips. "Good. That's what I wanted." I took a slow sip, feeling the tea's warmth seep through me. "Phase two, then." I tried to soft
LIAMThe moment I rounded the corner and saw her, my heart nearly stopped. It was...her. I had my men fucking combing the entire city for her without any luck. Of course, I wouldn't tell her how obsessed I'd been trying to track her down.But here she was, standing in my building, looking at me like she belonged.Jesus fucking Christ, she was more than I remembered—even more striking in the light of day, her presence pulling all the air from the room, just like she had done at the club the other night. I caught myself staring, my mind spinning at how the hell she ended up here, of all places. For a second, the shock must have shown on my face, but I quickly concealed it."You," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I couldn't quite hide the flicker of surprise.Her smile was slow, almost teasing, a knowing curve of her lips that did something to my mind and body. I couldn't tell if I was irritated or intrigued by this foreign disturbance from such a sinfully gorgeous woman. M
MONIQUEThe moment his words sank in, I felt like my body and mind were two people in the middle of an argument. Shock coursed through me, cold and sharp, but there was this unsettling heat that simmered beneath my skin, unwanted and uninvited. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to break the tension and tell him how disrespectful he was being, but my body—traitorous as it was—responded to his intensity in ways I hated to admit.I clenched my fists to steady myself, forcing my breath to even out. I couldn't let him know the effect he had on me. Plus, what was I expecting? Coming in here and giving him a strip show. I had acted on impulse.Whatever happened to my intelligent strategies?"What's your name?" he asked, his voice softer now but still laced with that dark edge. He was too close, too intense, and every fiber of me felt like it was being drawn into his orbit.I hesitated, my mind racing. If I told him my real name, the last name that would ring a bell in the back of his
MONIQUEI wasn't one to use my body to get what I wanted, or in this sense, I would call it 'female privilege.' But I had started to figure out that I could get Liam wrapped around my finger if I agreed to play his little cat-and-mouse game. He already made it clear that he wanted to make me his "sex plaything." But how would I be that and still keep close tabs on his business affairs? I was handed the easy route on a platter of gold.We were in the middle of a meeting with the hotel contractor and licensor, the two men seated opposite Liam's massive desk while I stood by his side, ready to pass him any documents that required his signature. Liam was listening intently, his expression as sharp as ever, but I could feel his attention slipping—more toward me than the men sitting across from him. I could tell he was fighting it, trying hard to keep his focus on the business at hand, but every time I bent down or leaned closer to hand him a pen or paper, his eyes dipped lower, following th
I got home from work, the tension of the day still clinging to me. I dropped my bag on the couch as I spoke on the phone with Richardson. I had to update him on my progress in gathering information about Liam. I told him everything I discovered about his new hotel. Richardson also had new and valuable information about one of my father's leading and old suppliers from South America.After my parents died, Don Antonio had laid everything out for me—the business partners, the suppliers, the clients. He showed me who my parents worked with and who they trusted. But after their deaths, those deals vanished almost overnight. Most of the partners backed out, too wary to keep working with a family whose power had crumbled and were suddenly killed.For five of the ten years I spent under the Don's guidance, I studied those old connections. I learned who my parents' true allies were. The Don tried to help me rebuild, to regain some of the partnerships my family had lost, but it was a hard stru
LIAMBy the time the day had finally slowed down, most of my employees had already filed out of the building. I glanced at the digital clock on my computer—just shy of ten PM. It had been one of those days, the kind where the hours bled into each other, swallowed by meetings, calls, and decisions.I'd sent Monique home at the usual closing time. I knew if I kept her around any longer, I wouldn't be able to resist. There was something about the way she walked around, all businesslike and professional, that drove me to the edge. The casual way she acted like she didn't feel the heat simmering between us only made it worse. If she stayed past office hours, I knew how it would end—with her bent over my desk, that red dress hiked up, and all semblance of professionalism shattered.I wasn't ready to play that card just yet. I was still trying to figure her out—what made her tick, what she wanted, why she was really here. But one thing was certain: keeping her close was part of the plan. She