Reina’s POV“Joshua,” I whispered, my voice like sandpaper.He was in the kitchenette, pulling two mugs from the cabinet like we were just any couple settling in for a quiet night. But my feet wouldn’t move. My pulse was trapped in my throat, thudding wildly.He looked up immediately. “What is it?”“I—I saw something.” I gestured toward the window, backing away. “Outside. Just past the porch light. It moved.”Joshua’s face shifted—his usual softness replaced with quiet alertness. He didn’t laugh it off. Didn’t call me crazy. Instead, he crossed the room in three long strides and peered out the window.The glass was smudged, but clear enough. The porch bulb buzzed faintly, illuminating nothing but weeds and shifting shadows.Still, he watched.“I don’t see anything,” he murmured.I didn’t breathe.But then his shoulders squared. He looked a little too long. Like he was pretending to see nothing so I wouldn’t panic.“Could’ve been a deer,” he said carefully, still staring. “Or a raccoon
Reina’s POVMy consciousness returned in pieces. A shrill pulse behind my eyes. Pins and needles prickling down my limbs. My mouth tasted of metal and something bitter. The air was thick—damp, suffocating.When I opened my eyes, darkness swallowed me whole.No window. No moonlight. Just the dim, flickering hum of a single bulb above. My arms ached—burning, twisted behind my back. Ropes dug into my wrists. My ankles were bound too, something coarse slicing into my skin every time I moved.Then I remembered. Joshua storming in. The gunshot. “Ohmygod,” I cried. What if…No. I shouldn’t think that way. But what if? And where the fuck am I? Who took me? Andrew? Mr Morelli?Panic surged up my throat like bile.“Help!” I screamed. “Somebody—please!”My voice cracked, raw from disuse or screaming—I couldn’t tell. I tried again, louder, until my lungs were burning.Then— A low chuckle answered from the shadows.Mocking. Cruel.“Shut up,” a voice said coldly. “You don’t get to scream.”A fig
Reina's POVI watched the smile on his face widen as he looked down at me.He knelt in front of me again, unmasking—his face now seared into my memory like a brand. And worse… when I looked at him, it wasn't just his face anymore. It blurred with Andrew’s. The same darkness. The same sick hunger.“I can’t be cheated out of life. I must take my own pound of flesh,” he barked with a crazy look in his eyes.I thrashed. Hard. My shoulder twisted painfully, but I didn’t care. I had to move. Had to stop what I knew was coming.He lunged forward—fingers clawing at the waistband of my shorts. The rope around my ankles burned as I kicked out wildly, but he gripped my legs and yanked them down hard, slamming my spine against the cold cement. Pain shot up my back as my breath hitched.My heart slammed so hard I thought it might give out.Stall him.Make him think he’s winning.Play the game.“Wait,” I gasped, forcing my voice to tremble—not just from fear, but desire. I hated myself for it, but
Cassian’s POV “What do you mean she’s gone?!” My voice split the air like a whip, raw and laced with fury. The room went dead silent. Even the low hum of the ventilation seemed to retreat as every man in the room shifted uncomfortably under the weight of my stare. Ethan stood stiff, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the polished marble floor like it could save him. He knew better than to stutter, but I could see the fear prickling just beneath the surface of his usually composed demeanor. “I gave an order! Her face—first thing I see when I wake up. So why am I seeing your faces instead?!” I barked. “We're sorry boss. We tracked them down just like you ordered,” he said carefully. “Got there just after dawn. Everything looked normal outside the trailer, but—” “But what?” I snapped, stepping forward. He exhaled slowly. “The man she was with at the cafe, was inside. Unconscious. Bleeding out on the floor.” “And Reina?” I demanded, my blood already boiling, heat rushing to my ea
Cassian’s POV“We burn them to the ground,” I growled.“All of them.”I didn’t need to explain further. The answer was loud and clear.The sea of faces blurred behind the smoke curling from the aged cigars and vintage whiskey glasses that decorated the long table. The meeting had shifted from the aggressive tones of invasion plans to hollow camaraderie and clinking glasses. It was all meaningless noise now. Laughter bouncing off walls thick with secrets. They called it tradition—these “family” gatherings. I called it a charade. A necessary one. But a charade, nonetheless.I wheeled my chair forward slowly, the low hum of its motion swallowed by the ambiance. My fingers tapped the polished armrest, steady, composed. No one here could suspect the storm boiling beneath my skin.They thought I was weakened. A cripple held together by steel rods and vengeance. And they were right—except for the weakened part.The night that stole my legs took more than bone and muscle. It ripped out my so
Cassian’s POV The rain started before dawn. Not the kind that sings against windows, soft and rhythmic—but the kind that claws at glass like it’s trying to get in. Like it knows something is about to happen and wants a front-row seat. That message I got during the meeting set the pace for new discoveries. I haven't made much progress in capturing the monster that crippled my world. Until yesterday. I stared at the monitor in front of me, watching the surveillance feed from yesterday's gathering on loop. Marcello hadn’t touched his wine after I left. He didn’t even flinch when he opened the envelope. Just stared at the word like it was a verdict he’d known was coming. ‘Soon.’ He didn’t panic. Didn’t blink. That was what intrigued me. Because if he wasn’t afraid… it meant he had already made peace with something. Or someone. That thought alone had me eager to have blood on my hands. Men like Marcello don’t make peace unless they’re sure they’ve already won. Lucas
Cassian’s POVElias?The same incident that made me cut ties with Vasili? I gripped the arm of my chair tighter as a wave of pain gripped my legs, real enough to make me see stars.The incident that changed my life. My first mistake in the game.I barely remembered his name before now. It was a job gone sideways. A child turned into a ghost. I thought he’d died with the fire I lit to erase my failure.But ghosts don’t burn, do they? They wait.The crimson thread pulled tighter across my chest. I felt an invisible hand grip my throat and loosened my tie. I couldn't breathe.“He wears a new face now. The fire you set peeled the old one off,” Vasili added, as he continued working on his art.“Where is he?” I asked, after steadying my breathing.“Closer than you think, brother Cassian. Much closer.”Closer than I think? Who could it be?Is he among my men? The organization? A rival gang?I didn’t wait after that. Because I knew he wasn't going to spill more.As I turned my chair to leave,
Reina’s POVHe didn’t come again.Not that night. Not even to yell or rattle the door or throw something at the wall just to remind me he was still there. Silence wrapped around me like a noose—tightening with every hour that passed. I didn’t sleep. Not really. When my eyes did close, the nightmares came—fast and dark.Andrew’s face. His face. Their faces morphing. Their voices blending into one monstrous echo.‘Give me a son.’‘You’re just a vessel.’‘You’ll come crawling back, just like you always do.’My limbs locked in my dreams, the same way they had in reality. I couldn’t run. Couldn’t scream loud enough. I’d wake up gasping, soaked in sweat, only to slip back under—and the nightmares would start all over again. It was endless. Torturous. Like drowning in memories I never wanted, stitched into new horrors I couldn’t escape.Then—A hand creeping up my breast snapped me upright. A scream clung to my throat but didn’t make it out.My eyes flew open——and landed right on his fa
Reina's POV Curled up in bed, I clutched the sheets like they were the only thing keeping me tied to reality. My mind refused to rest. It played cruel tricks—spinning vivid reels of everything that had happened this past week. Each memory came crashing through like a storm, loud and unrelenting.I wanted to forget. God, I tried. I begged for the thoughts to quiet, for my heart to stop aching. But it was useless. I was trapped—caged in an endless loop of waking nightmares that clawed at me every time I closed my eyes.Then, like a punch to the chest, that moment in the bathroom slammed into me. Mr. Morelli—his voice smooth like poison, his eyes gleaming with that twisted kind of confidence—had the audacity to make that insane proposal.He wanted to own me?As if I were some possession to collect. A prize to cage behind glass.What tore me open wasn’t just the arrogance of it—it was that, for a brief, breathless second, I almost said yes. The thought had thrilled me, ignited something
Reina's POVThe water was warm, scented with oils and lined with rose petals, but it couldn’t soothe the ache burning beneath my skin.Neither could it stop my limbs from trembling.I had seen Leon’s face the moment the trunk of the car burst open, and for a fleeting second, gratitude lit up inside me like a match in a dark room. I shouldn’t have felt relief. This wasn’t freedom—it was just another cage with velvet walls. But when he pulled me into his arms, when I heard his voice bark orders and watched the shadows of Morelli’s men close in like hounds, I let myself crumble. Just for a moment.Because the monsters I knew… were safer than the ones I didn’t.Now, in this oversized marble tub, with gold faucets and expensive soaps, I let the tears fall freely.I am no longer a free woman.If I left this place, the wolves would be waiting.The police would tear me apart in interrogation rooms. The Vance family would paint a target on my back, parade my corpse through the streets for the
Cassian’s POVDinner was served. But she didn't show up.The long table stretched endlessly before me, golden light dancing on polished silverware, untouched plates, and bowls of food prepared with precision.“Where is she?” I asked, voice sharp enough to pierce glass.One of the maids, Tara, flinched slightly. “She… hasn’t come out since she arrived, sir. She didn’t touch her lunch either.”I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping violently against the floor. “She hasn’t eaten anything?”“No, sir.”My pulse spiked.I didn’t know if it was anger or… something far more dangerous.I wheeled out of the dining hall, each turn of the wheel sharp and fast. The hallway was quiet—too quiet—except for the distant patter of rain against the windows. I hated the sound tonight. It reminded me of the bruises on her skin. The silence in her eyes.Two guards stood outside her room, but when they saw me coming, they bowed their heads and stepped aside without a word. The scent of lavender le
Cassian’s POVReina? How long has it been since she went missing? A day? Two?Fuck! How could I forget my perfect distraction? Maybe that’s why I’ve been overwhelmed by anger and frustration. At least when she was here, my mind stayed preoccupied with how to break her down—how to make her bend without snapping. It kept the rage at bay.But when Ethan showed me that footage—her wrists bound, her body shoved into the trunk like she was nothing—something in me snapped.All I could think about was carving that bastard into pieces. Tiny, bleeding pieces. Scattering him across the fields like fertilizer and letting the vultures handle the rest.I’ve never seen anyone look so broken. So small. And yet, so…desirable.How fucking dare he?She’s mine. Mine.While my men rode out to drag that bastard down here and return my nurse safely, I ordered the maids to draw a warm, scented bath, soften every corner of her room, and prepare a hearty lunch that would chase away any chill.The mansion cam
Reina’s POVThe car sat waiting, black and beat up like it had been through the toughest storms. Its trunk was already open. As if it had been waiting for me. My heart sank.“No,” I choked, voice hoarse.He didn’t respond. Just pulled me forward with renewed strength. My knees buckled and scraped the gravel. Still, I dug my heels into the ground, struggling against him with every last ounce of energy I had.That was when he struck me.A sharp backhand to the face that sent stars exploding behind my eyes. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My lip split open. Before I could cry out again, he yanked a cloth from his pocket—already tied in a knot—and shoved it between my lips.“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed. “Or I’ll cut you open right here.”I screamed anyway, or tried to. The gag silenced me. My head thrashed. Tears spilled down my face.Then he grabbed the back of my neck and shoved me forward—hard.My torso slammed into the edge of the trunk. My ribs burned with the impact. In one bru
Reina’s POVHe didn’t come again.Not that night. Not even to yell or rattle the door or throw something at the wall just to remind me he was still there. Silence wrapped around me like a noose—tightening with every hour that passed. I didn’t sleep. Not really. When my eyes did close, the nightmares came—fast and dark.Andrew’s face. His face. Their faces morphing. Their voices blending into one monstrous echo.‘Give me a son.’‘You’re just a vessel.’‘You’ll come crawling back, just like you always do.’My limbs locked in my dreams, the same way they had in reality. I couldn’t run. Couldn’t scream loud enough. I’d wake up gasping, soaked in sweat, only to slip back under—and the nightmares would start all over again. It was endless. Torturous. Like drowning in memories I never wanted, stitched into new horrors I couldn’t escape.Then—A hand creeping up my breast snapped me upright. A scream clung to my throat but didn’t make it out.My eyes flew open——and landed right on his fa
Cassian’s POVElias?The same incident that made me cut ties with Vasili? I gripped the arm of my chair tighter as a wave of pain gripped my legs, real enough to make me see stars.The incident that changed my life. My first mistake in the game.I barely remembered his name before now. It was a job gone sideways. A child turned into a ghost. I thought he’d died with the fire I lit to erase my failure.But ghosts don’t burn, do they? They wait.The crimson thread pulled tighter across my chest. I felt an invisible hand grip my throat and loosened my tie. I couldn't breathe.“He wears a new face now. The fire you set peeled the old one off,” Vasili added, as he continued working on his art.“Where is he?” I asked, after steadying my breathing.“Closer than you think, brother Cassian. Much closer.”Closer than I think? Who could it be?Is he among my men? The organization? A rival gang?I didn’t wait after that. Because I knew he wasn't going to spill more.As I turned my chair to leave,
Cassian’s POV The rain started before dawn. Not the kind that sings against windows, soft and rhythmic—but the kind that claws at glass like it’s trying to get in. Like it knows something is about to happen and wants a front-row seat. That message I got during the meeting set the pace for new discoveries. I haven't made much progress in capturing the monster that crippled my world. Until yesterday. I stared at the monitor in front of me, watching the surveillance feed from yesterday's gathering on loop. Marcello hadn’t touched his wine after I left. He didn’t even flinch when he opened the envelope. Just stared at the word like it was a verdict he’d known was coming. ‘Soon.’ He didn’t panic. Didn’t blink. That was what intrigued me. Because if he wasn’t afraid… it meant he had already made peace with something. Or someone. That thought alone had me eager to have blood on my hands. Men like Marcello don’t make peace unless they’re sure they’ve already won. Lucas
Cassian’s POV“We burn them to the ground,” I growled.“All of them.”I didn’t need to explain further. The answer was loud and clear.The sea of faces blurred behind the smoke curling from the aged cigars and vintage whiskey glasses that decorated the long table. The meeting had shifted from the aggressive tones of invasion plans to hollow camaraderie and clinking glasses. It was all meaningless noise now. Laughter bouncing off walls thick with secrets. They called it tradition—these “family” gatherings. I called it a charade. A necessary one. But a charade, nonetheless.I wheeled my chair forward slowly, the low hum of its motion swallowed by the ambiance. My fingers tapped the polished armrest, steady, composed. No one here could suspect the storm boiling beneath my skin.They thought I was weakened. A cripple held together by steel rods and vengeance. And they were right—except for the weakened part.The night that stole my legs took more than bone and muscle. It ripped out my so