ELEANORI stared at Don Salvatore in disbelief, my chest tight with shock and anger. "You have to be joking," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm, though deep down, I hoped it was true. "You want me to help you kill Armando? Do you even hear yourself?"His expression didn't shift, the charm he had been masking himself with all night replaced by something darker."Why the fuck would you ask me that?" I demanded, my hands trembling as I clenched them into fists at my sides."Do I look like someone who goes around killing people? Is that what you brought me here for? Because if that's it, you can forget it right now. It's not happening."Don Salvatore had that smug, detached look on his face as he tilted his head slightly, his lips twitching as though he found my outburst amusing—fueling my rage even more."I've heard what you wanted to say," I snapped, "And if that's all you had to discuss, now would be a good time for you to let me go. Unless, of course, you plan on killing me too."H
ARMANDOThe drive to the scene felt endless. Matteo sat in the front passenger seat—his jaw tight and his eyes scanning the streets as though he might catch a glimpse of the people responsible for what had happened to Enzo—while I sat in the back, silent as my hands clenched into fists. And although the chauffeur had given us every detail he knew, none of it was enough. I needed to see it for myself.When the limo finally slowed, Matteo cursed under his breath. “Police,” he muttered.I leaned forward slightly, catching sight of the flashing lights. Yellow tape surrounded the area with officers pacing back and forth. The scene looked like it was a mess.“Damn it,” Matteo hissed.The chauffeur's face seemed tense as he glanced back at me through the rearview mirror. “What do you want me to do boss?” He asked.“Park,” I said. My voice was calm, but there was steel underneath it. “Find a spot where you won’t be seen and stay in the car. Lock it and don’t move until we get back.”The cha
ARMANDO The ride back to the mansion was silent, but my head wasn’t. I couldn’t shake the image of Enzo’s face—cold and lifeless—in that bag. It played on a loop in my mind, every detail—the stiffness of his features, the unnatural stillness—etching deeper with each passing second. It wasn’t just grief that gripped me. It was anger—burning, unrelenting anger.I sat in the back seat, staring out at the rain-dotted windows with my jaw clenched so tightly that it ached a bit. The thirst for revenge was clawing at me—demanding I act, but I couldn’t afford to be reckless just yet. The police sniffing around my operations was something I just couldn’t afford at the moment.When the limo pulled into the driveway, Matteo jumped out even before the chauffeur had fully parked. He opened the door for me—holding an umbrella in one hand. “It’s starting to pour boss. Let me—”I waved him off and stepped out into the rain, ignoring the drizzle that quickly turned into a steady downpour. The cold wa
ELEANORI couldn't seem to find any sleep because each time I closed my eyes, the images came rushing back—sharp and unforgiving—like shards of glass cutting through my mind.I sat up on the edge of my bed staring at the shadows dancing across the wall. Sleep wasn't just far, it felt impossible. My body felt too heavy, my mind too restless, and I couldn't even lie down properly all night.After Armando had gone upstairs last night, I forced myself to mop the living room floor just like he'd asked, even though my hands wouldn't stop trembling. The cold seeped into my bones, and my clothes stuck to my skin as I worked, but I still pushed through. When I finally dragged myself upstairs, my room was exactly as I'd left it—cold and silent.Don Salvatore's words haunted me. His threats still hung over me like a storm cloud even though I was now miles away from him—wherever he was.Still, I couldn't dwell on it now. If Armando sensed even the slightest shift in my behavior, he'd know somethi
ELEANORArmando’s words kept playing over and over in my head as I hurriedly rummaged through my wardrobe. The tone he used left no room for argument, and I didn’t need anyone to tell me that if I didn’t act quickly, his temper would explode. The massive mansion—which sometimes felt like a labyrinth—was suddenly suffocating once again, its walls closing in as the weight of the previous evening’s events pressed down on me. My mind flashed to the blood, the screams, the gunshots—all too much that I could barely think straight.I pulled out a sleeveless white gown—simple but neat—and slipped it on. I didn’t have time to fuss over accessories or the perfect look, especially because Armando wasn’t exactly the type to wait and I didn’t want to test his patience today. I quickly applied a light layer of makeup—enough to mask my tired eyes and pale complexion—and glanced at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.Taking a deep breath, I made my way downstairs. Each s
ELEANORI glanced at Armando cautiously—hoping to catch some clue in his expression—but his eyes were fixed outside his own window, his posture as rigid and composed as always.It just didn’t make sense. Well, sure I wasn't feeling too strong—my body ached, and the fever hadn’t let up since the rainstorm—but this was Armando Luca. He wasn’t the kind of man who cared about whether I was healthy or not. The only thing he cared about was his control, his power, and making sure I knew my place.The car slowed as the chauffeur guided us toward the hospital’s entrance, weaving through the compound to find a parking spot. Armando had brought me all the way here across the city—putting me through the stress of getting all dressed up and everything—just to visit a hospital.But why?“Why are we here?” I asked as I still couldn’t help myself, my voice barely above a whisper. It cracked slightly, but I pushed through, forcing myself to meet his gaze even though I already knew it was a risk.Arma
ELEANORThe receptionist waved over a male nurse—gesturing toward where we had sat—and he approached quickly, a polite but professional expression on his face. “Right this way, sir,” he said, his voice calm and steady.Armando stood—adjusting his coat with a deliberate motion—and then he glanced at me. His look wasn’t harsh, but it carried a silent command. It was clear he expected me to walk ahead of him.I stood slowly, feeling the weight of the awkwardness I’d been carrying since we arrived. Matteo—ever silent and watchful—followed closely behind as we began to walk. The nurse led the way—his strides steady and purposeful—and I found myself matching his pace, though my gaze kept drifting.The further we moved away from the reception area, the more relieved I felt. The burning stares and muffled whispers of the queue had left an imprint on me, but at least now I could breathe without the judgment of strangers pressing down on me. Armando had a way of making every public moment feel
ELEANORThe gentle hum of the limo filled the silence as we drove out of the hospital's compound. I leaned back against the plush seat—the outside world blurring into nothingness—as I stared outside the window, feeling hollow as though a piece of me had just been left behind.What made it worse was the glimpse of that nurse. I was almost certain she was the one but I couldn’t approach her because Matteo just had to be there like a shadow trailing me everywhere.The doctor’s words began to replay—like some sort of whisper—in my head. She seemed to be a kind woman—middle-aged with sharp glasses perched on her nose—and her demeanor was assuring as she’d handed me a prescription list, speaking in a tone that made it sound like she genuinely cared.“You’ll need to take these as directed,” she had said in a tone that was both soft and firm at the same time. “Three times a day after meals. Don’t skip a dose. And also try to get good rest as much as possible.”Then she’d given me a small, enc
ARMANDO The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV. My study was always like this—dim lighting, the faint smell of leather, and silence that made it easier to think. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the screen. The news anchor’s voice droned on about the recent police crackdowns. Another raid. Another group of men in cuffs.It wasn’t surprising. The authorities had been tightening their grip for months, thinking they could dismantle everything piece by piece. It wouldn’t work. I had been in this game too long to let it. Still, I watched, paying close attention to the details. You never knew when a name, a face, or a location might give you something to act on.My fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. A bad habit, but one I didn’t bother correcting. It helped me focus. The footage shifted to a warehouse raid—men dragged out with their hands behind their backs, flashing lights bouncing off the walls. Sloppy. Someone had slipped up, and now they were paying for it.T
ELEANOR My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting me from my thoughts. The screen lit up, and my stomach dropped when I saw the private number. My fingers hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the phone. I already knew what to expect, and that only made my heart pound harder.It was a text. “It’s time. Now or never. Face the consequences if you choose the latter.”I stared at the message, the words blurring as the weight of them hit me. I had been preparing for this moment but now that it was here, I felt paralyzed, my mind racing but coming up empty.I had already decided. I had to do this. There was no way out. Months of torment from Armando had driven me to this point, and Don Salvatore’s threats left no room for hesitation. My sister’s life depended on me going through with this.But there was one massive problem.I didn’t have the poison. I had no idea how to get it, where to find it, or even how to use it if I did. I had spent weeks stuck in limbo, hoping for some kind of so
ELEANORSeveral days had passed since Don Salvatore’s call, but I hadn’t known peace since. My mind was stuck in a constant cycle of worry and my heart heavy with fear. I couldn’t eat because the mere thought of food made my stomach churn and my body began growing weaker—my skin pale and dry. It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong with me, but there was no one to confide in—not here.And Armando? Despite the way I looked or sounded, he hadn’t eased up on my duties. I should’ve been a bit relieved that someone was hired to share the workload, but instead, I felt uneasy around her. She seemed off, like she didn’t belong. There was something about the way she carried herself—always watching, always calculating—that put me on edge. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was trouble.Mabel’s presence didn’t lighten my load. Her role was clear—cook whatever Armando wanted whenever he wanted it. Meanwhile, I was still left with everything else—the cleaning, the mopping, the
ELEANORI scrubbed the last dish, letting the warm water run over my hands until my fingers felt numb. The rhythmic clinking of plates against the sink was the only sound in the kitchen, but my thoughts were far from calm. Armando’s words from earlier echoed in my mind, and then there was Don Salvatore. His threats, my sister’s pale face in that photo—it all coiled around my chest like a vice.I kept scrubbing—pretending the kitchen was my sanctuary—and for a moment it almost worked, but then the door creaked. My body stiffened.I turned slowly—the soapy plate still in my hands—and my eyes fell on the profile of Armando leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His eyes were calm, but there was an edge to his gaze—the kind that always seemed to confuse me.“You’ve been hiding yourself away a lot lately,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I don’t remember giving you permission to turn into a ghost. Not in my house.”I placed the plate on the drying rack, wiping my hands on a towel
ELEANORI sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the drawer where the phone was hidden. The silence in the mansion pressed down on me like a heavy weight and I hated how quiet it was—how every shift of the wind outside seemed louder than my own heartbeat. I just had this lingering feeling that he was going to call.My hands shook as I waited—each second feeling like an eternity—and then it happened. The phone rang.The sound sliced through the quiet like a knife, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My heart raced as I reached for the drawer—my fingers fumbling to open it—and when I finally pulled the phone out, my stomach twisted into knots.I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and answered. “Hello?”The line was silent. Not a sound. Not even the faintest breath on the other end. I swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter.And then, his voice came—smooth, calm and controlled. “Eleanor.”I didn’t respond right away. My mouth was dry, and my chest felt tight.“Have you been
ELEANOR Armando’s voice shot through the mansion like a whip. “Eleanor!” he bellowed. “Get down here. Now!”I froze mid-pace, my heart hammering in my chest. Did he really just call my name, or was my panic starting to mess with my head? My mind raced, torn between the phone I had just hidden away and the constant paranoia of being found out.Before I could decide, his voice rang out again, louder this time. “Eleanor! I won’t call you again!”The echo bounced off the walls—filling every corner of the house—and for a few seconds, I couldn’t move, my mind spinning with all the worst possibilities. Had he found out i used the phone?My hands trembled as I paced aimlessly for a moment, trying to pull myself together. “Get it together,” I whispered under my breath. “Breathe. Act normal.”I rushed to the drawer, shoved the phone back inside, and slammed it shut. Adjusting my dress in the mirror, I brushed out the wrinkles and ran my fingers through my hair. My reflection stared back at me,
ELEANORThe sunlight peeked through the gap in my curtains and landed directly on my face, pulling me out of sleep. I groaned softly, turning my head to the side, but it was no use. Once the light hit my eyes, there was no going back. I blinked a few times—trying to adjust—and then stared at the ceiling for a moment before dragging myself out of the duvet.As I sat up, I glanced around my room and the mess stared back at me like a taunt. Clothes were scattered on the chair, books—which i usually read as a means of escape—were piled on the nightstand, and a few empty water bottles were sitting on the dresser.It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my space, but ever since I moved into Armando’s mansion, my days had been swallowed by cleaning everything else. His room, his library, the home office, the dining room—anywhere Armando might show up had to be spotless. My room always came last. And every time I planned to clean it, something would come up—some new task Armando would throw my wa
ELEANORAfter Armando left the room, my legs felt weak—trembling from the overwhelming sensations still coursing through me, and my mind was a mess of scattered thoughts.I swallowed hard, taking slow breaths to calm myself, but my body refused to settle. I hated how much control he seemed to have over me. Even now—with him gone, I could still feel him like his presence had somehow soaked into the walls.“Why does he have to be like this?” I muttered under my breath. I tried to focus, to pull myself out of this haze, but every attempt was a failure.Armando was… intense. That was the only way I could describe him. I wanted to hate him for it, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny that when he touched me, it was like nothing else mattered.I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I forced myself to move, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helped a little—washing away the tension clinging to my skin, and by the time I was done, I felt slightly more grounded.
Chapter 76ELEANORArmando's voice came low and sharp from behind me, brushing against my ear."Do you have any idea what you're asking for, Eleanor?" His words were slow and deliberate—each syllable wrapped in a teasing chill. "You know what you're about to get yourself into?"I opened my mouth, but my throat felt dry.I barely managed to whisper, "Maybe. I'm not sure." My voice shook, and I gasped softly when I felt his breath against the side of my neck, warm and unsettling.His hand moved then, his left still firm on my waist while his right slid lower, tracing circles just below my hips. My skin burned under his touch, every nerve alive and screaming. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing so lightly against my neck that it felt like they weren't even there.He chuckled softly, the sound low and dark, sending shivers down my spine."Maybe?" he repeated, his tone mocking but somehow laced with something that made me feel small and exposed. His hand on my waist then tightened sligh