Alessandra's POV ( at 5) *"Now I need you girls to promise me." She took our hands in hers—mine and Alex’s—like we were made of something fragile. She looked at us like she knew something we didn’t. "Promise me you’ll always look after each other." Alex rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll look after her and pray she doesn’t die.” She tipped her chin toward me, grinning. Mom stifled a laugh, but her eyes didn’t crinkle. "Can I go now? Dad’s getting new guns—he already taught me how to shoot." "You did what?" Mom’s voice was sharp like the scissors she used to trim roses with, the ones I wasn’t allowed to touch. Alex froze for a second. Then she kissed Mom’s cheek and ran off down the hallway, giggling like she hadn’t just dropped a live grenade. Mom exhaled through her nose, like she always did when Alex did something wild. "Alex has more in common with Dad," I said, softly. "I probably have more interests with you. I hate what Dad does." She didn’t answer immediately. Jus
Alessandra."Positive."The word slipped out in a whisper, barely louder than the pounding in my head.I stared down at the DNA test clutched in my hand, the letters blurring in and out of focus.I'd been so angry before I went to the cemetery.I’d gone up to my room to cry out the grief first, the kind that twisted your stomach until you couldn’t breathe.Then the anger came, hot and mean.I stormed into Papa’s room, ripped a hair from his comb without thinking twice, and drove straight to the lab to submit it alongside mine.Then I went to scream at my mother’s grave.Then cry some more before I passed out.The test was delivered in the morning.I kept staring at the percentage, willing it to change.It didn’t.He was my father.The man I was tied to, no matter how much I tried to rip the blood from my veins.I shouldn’t be surprised.I had one done before I left for Mexico—got some of the workers to help me slip samples out.Those results were positive too.Maybe a part of me thoug
Alessandra's POV You know the terrible thing about being engaged to someone who couldn’t get their shit together? It made it look like you couldn’t get your shit together either. Guilty by association. That was me.I was on my way to Killian’s place to pick up the wedding binder when Jeremy texted 'Lunch with my family. Two p.m.'It was 1:30. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” I wanted to scream. I had twenty minutes. Twenty. I couldn’t afford to be late, I was trying to be the perfect daughter in law .. plus who keeps Ronan waiting I pulled into a mall instead. Grabbed a dress that didn’t make me look like a hot mess , slapped on some makeup with the energy of a woman in crisis, and sped to Ronan's Manor.I eventually came out wearing a pale pink strapless mini dress with a bow tied at the back. Clean, simple, pretty. Over it, a long black trench coat to fight the moody weather, My hair was up in a claw clip, neat but loose enough to look like I didn’t try too hard. A pair of pi
Alessandra's POV.As soon as I practically ran out of the garden, I slipped through the first door I saw and shut it behind me, pressing my forehead to the wood like it could hold me up. My breath came in sharp, shaky bursts. God, I hated Killian.The way his muscles flexed, Those tattoos....God help me, I’d been trying to memorize every single one of them And those stupid grey eyes I could just...No. Stop it.His attitude was trash. His mouth? Even worse.“That devil,” I muttered, pushing away from the door. “Who am I kidding—calling him a devil’s an insult to the actual devil.”“You good?”I jumped, spine straightening like I’d been caught stealing. Ronan stood there, arms relaxed, face unreadable. My mouth moved faster than my brain.“Yes, sir.”Sir?Shit my brain always short circuited.“Sir?” He repeated drawing it out.I blinked up at him. That didn’t sound right. What was I supposed to even call him?“Don,” I corrected.He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me, stil
Alessandra's POVI’d come to the conclusion that I was overthinking things. The moment lunch ended, I rushed out first. I didn’t talk to anyone, not even Jeremy.The wedding was set for the last week of August—at least, I thought it was. I’d forgotten the date we agreed on, and I hadn’t seen Killian since. Four whole days. Nothing. Radio silence.He didn’t even come to watch me anymore. That stung more than I cared to admit.The house had been dull without Diego and Liam—they were both in Rome. It was just me now. I blow-dried my hair and tied it into a ponytail. Switched off the lights. Crawled into bed before I slept off.A few hours later…I kept tossing and turning. The air-conditioning was definitely on, so why did it feel so hot?“Wake. Up.”Two words. That voice. I’d know it anywhere.The fog of sleep evaporated instantly. I shot upright, my eyes scanning the dim room. And there he was—Killian. Sitting in the corner, hidden in shadows, the soft glow of a cigarette ember outlini
Alessandra's POV "Did you enjoy dinner?" Kol’s voice was smooth as we turned the corner, his presence warm beside me in the cool night air. "Yes, I did," I replied, clutching his arm a little tighter. Two years together. He went all out tonight reservations at a restaurant he always claimed was overrated but mysteriously booked anyway. Usually, he'd just cook something special at home. But tonight was different. I had hoped no— expected, a proposal. The way he recently talked about children, about our future, it only made sense. I chewed every bite slowly, just in case a ring was hidden in the food. I sipped my wine deliberately, checking for anything clinking against the glass. Nothing. Dinner ended, and still—nothing. Now we were walking home. Maybe he wanted to do it under the streetlights, something grand and romantic, a moment I’d remember forever. He wasn’t the type for spontaneous gestures, at least not with me, but maybe tonight was different. "Thank you for tonight
Alessandra's POV I hadn’t been home in six years. Not because I didn’t want to come back. I wasn’t allowed to. Growing up, I was the defective twin. Not strong or sharp like my sister, Alex. She had the grades, the combat skills—the discipline needed for the life we were born into. A life of guns, drugs, power. The mafia life. My father, Luke Castillo, was the Consigliere to the Godfather of Italy. Which meant he had no patience for weaklings. No tolerance for mistakes. And I was both—a weakling and a mistake. He made that clear every time he looked at me. Every time he asked me questions I couldn’t answer. I think he sent me away because, if he hadn’t, he might’ve killed me. I walked quickly to the dining room. Dinner was at eight. He hated waiting. When I opened the door, he was scrolling through his phone, not even glancing up. I stood across from him, clearing my throat. Nothing. So much for a welcome back. “Hi, Papa.” Still nothing. I tried again. “I haven’t seen you
Alessandra's POV Friday came too fast. The guards trailed behind me, carrying my luggage, but my feet faltered as I passed Alex’s door. I shouldn’t stop. Should just keep walking. But I couldn’t. She was my other half. And I wouldn’t be seeing her for a while. I opened her door and headed to the walk in closet l. She stood in front of the mirror, shirt clutched in her hands, her back stiff. Shoulders drawn in. She wasn’t just looking at herself—she was searching for something no one else could see. I cleared my throat. She jerked, body reacting before her face did. The shirt was yanked over her head in a single, seamless motion. Too fast. Too natural. She’d done this before. For the smallest fraction of a second, something flickered in her expression—worry, maybe. Then it was gone, buried beneath that familiar wall. Cold. Indifferent. Unreadable. "What are you doing here?" The words held nothing. No warmth. No curiosity. "I wanted to tell you I was leaving." "You’re tellin
Alessandra's POVI’d come to the conclusion that I was overthinking things. The moment lunch ended, I rushed out first. I didn’t talk to anyone, not even Jeremy.The wedding was set for the last week of August—at least, I thought it was. I’d forgotten the date we agreed on, and I hadn’t seen Killian since. Four whole days. Nothing. Radio silence.He didn’t even come to watch me anymore. That stung more than I cared to admit.The house had been dull without Diego and Liam—they were both in Rome. It was just me now. I blow-dried my hair and tied it into a ponytail. Switched off the lights. Crawled into bed before I slept off.A few hours later…I kept tossing and turning. The air-conditioning was definitely on, so why did it feel so hot?“Wake. Up.”Two words. That voice. I’d know it anywhere.The fog of sleep evaporated instantly. I shot upright, my eyes scanning the dim room. And there he was—Killian. Sitting in the corner, hidden in shadows, the soft glow of a cigarette ember outlini
Alessandra's POV.As soon as I practically ran out of the garden, I slipped through the first door I saw and shut it behind me, pressing my forehead to the wood like it could hold me up. My breath came in sharp, shaky bursts. God, I hated Killian.The way his muscles flexed, Those tattoos....God help me, I’d been trying to memorize every single one of them And those stupid grey eyes I could just...No. Stop it.His attitude was trash. His mouth? Even worse.“That devil,” I muttered, pushing away from the door. “Who am I kidding—calling him a devil’s an insult to the actual devil.”“You good?”I jumped, spine straightening like I’d been caught stealing. Ronan stood there, arms relaxed, face unreadable. My mouth moved faster than my brain.“Yes, sir.”Sir?Shit my brain always short circuited.“Sir?” He repeated drawing it out.I blinked up at him. That didn’t sound right. What was I supposed to even call him?“Don,” I corrected.He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me, stil
Alessandra's POV You know the terrible thing about being engaged to someone who couldn’t get their shit together? It made it look like you couldn’t get your shit together either. Guilty by association. That was me.I was on my way to Killian’s place to pick up the wedding binder when Jeremy texted 'Lunch with my family. Two p.m.'It was 1:30. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” I wanted to scream. I had twenty minutes. Twenty. I couldn’t afford to be late, I was trying to be the perfect daughter in law .. plus who keeps Ronan waiting I pulled into a mall instead. Grabbed a dress that didn’t make me look like a hot mess , slapped on some makeup with the energy of a woman in crisis, and sped to Ronan's Manor.I eventually came out wearing a pale pink strapless mini dress with a bow tied at the back. Clean, simple, pretty. Over it, a long black trench coat to fight the moody weather, My hair was up in a claw clip, neat but loose enough to look like I didn’t try too hard. A pair of pi
Alessandra."Positive."The word slipped out in a whisper, barely louder than the pounding in my head.I stared down at the DNA test clutched in my hand, the letters blurring in and out of focus.I'd been so angry before I went to the cemetery.I’d gone up to my room to cry out the grief first, the kind that twisted your stomach until you couldn’t breathe.Then the anger came, hot and mean.I stormed into Papa’s room, ripped a hair from his comb without thinking twice, and drove straight to the lab to submit it alongside mine.Then I went to scream at my mother’s grave.Then cry some more before I passed out.The test was delivered in the morning.I kept staring at the percentage, willing it to change.It didn’t.He was my father.The man I was tied to, no matter how much I tried to rip the blood from my veins.I shouldn’t be surprised.I had one done before I left for Mexico—got some of the workers to help me slip samples out.Those results were positive too.Maybe a part of me thoug
Alessandra's POV ( at 5) *"Now I need you girls to promise me." She took our hands in hers—mine and Alex’s—like we were made of something fragile. She looked at us like she knew something we didn’t. "Promise me you’ll always look after each other." Alex rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll look after her and pray she doesn’t die.” She tipped her chin toward me, grinning. Mom stifled a laugh, but her eyes didn’t crinkle. "Can I go now? Dad’s getting new guns—he already taught me how to shoot." "You did what?" Mom’s voice was sharp like the scissors she used to trim roses with, the ones I wasn’t allowed to touch. Alex froze for a second. Then she kissed Mom’s cheek and ran off down the hallway, giggling like she hadn’t just dropped a live grenade. Mom exhaled through her nose, like she always did when Alex did something wild. "Alex has more in common with Dad," I said, softly. "I probably have more interests with you. I hate what Dad does." She didn’t answer immediately. Jus
Alessandra's POV My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing on the table, rattling like it was trying to remind me I still had to exist. Who the hell calls first thing in the morning.I didn’t check I just answered.“I’ve been calling you! What the hell is going on with you?”Stella. Of course.“What happened” I rasped, my voice still rough with sleep.“Remember that guy? The one who tried to force you to dance last Friday at the club?”“Why would I want to remember him, Stella? Can we not—”“He’s dead.”My eyes flew open. I sat up too fast.“What?”“Yeah. They found him in the boiler room on Saturday. Completely disfigured. The only reason they even figured out who he was because his phone was nearby. My dad was talking to my brother about it, and I snuck a peek at the before and after photo—it was definitely him. The club’s keeping it hush-hush.”Her words came too fast. My brain struggled to make them fit into something I could process.“Disfigured?” I asked, like I didn’t already feel sick.
Alessandra's POV “Wait.”My voice cut through the moment, barely louder than a whisper, but enough to still his hands. He paused mid-motion, I reached up and pulled the blindfold down before he could finish knotting itOur eyes met.He was standing so close I could feel the warmth radiating off his chest. His breath ghosted over my cheek, and suddenly swallowing felt like a task too complicated for my body to remember how to do.“What is it?” he asked.I didn’t knowGod, I didn’t knowBut the words formed in my mouth before I could stop them“That day…” I breathed, “you helped with um ..my drool. And you… you sucked it off your hand.”His eyes dropped to my lips . His jaw tightened—“Why did you do that?” I asked, Not as an accusation. I needed to know. Needed it like I needed air.His gaze lifted again, locking onto mine, and I felt it.The way he looked at me—like I was a riddle he wanted to solve with his mouth.“I wanted to know what you tasted like,” he said, voice low, firm, un
Killian's POV.I believed in patterns—ritual, rhythms .They kept me sane. Gave shape to a mind that never stopped spiraling never stopped calculating.But lately, those patterns had gone up in smoke.Because of her.The variable I hadn’t accounted for.Hazel eyes that flickered like wildfire.Dark honey-blonde hair, the kind you could twist around your fist and never let go.Legs that could wrap around a man's waist and cut off his breath. And that floral... that fucking floral chain that hugged her thigh like a secret— Her tattoo.something meant to be discovered, peeled away even if I couldn't come off, worshipped.Porcelain skin, untouched. But not unimagined.She was everything I had no business noticing.She was Jeremy's fiancée.Not girlfriend—fiancée. Locked in. Promised.And Jeremy… Jeremy was one of the few people I’d rather die for than betray. He didn’t say it out loud, but he noticed her too.Almost as much as I did.Almost.I’ve seen women from every corner of the worl
Alessandra's POV This place looked like a dream sculpted out of privilege.“God—this place is awesome,” Bree breathed beside me as we stepped through the entrance, and honestly, she wasn’t exaggerating. Not even a little.The ceilings were so high it felt like we’d walked into a cathedral instead of a clubhouse. Everything gleamed. Marble floors, golden accents that caught the moonlight filtering through the glass ceiling in the grand hall. The whole estate stretched on like a palace, quiet and glorious in that way only old money and Mafia Money could afford. I felt like I had to whisper, like talking too loud would ruin it. A membership costs one hundred thousand euros a year. That alone should’ve told me what kind of world we’d just stepped into. Not one you casually walk through in heels and confidence. We wandered first, because how could we not? The library alone was something out of a fairytale—towering shelves stacked to the heavens, with rolling ladders you’d have to climb