Matteo.The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, sharp and suffocating. Luca's knee drove deeper into my chest, pinning me to the blood-slick floor. The knife in his hand pressed harder against my throat, its edge biting into flesh with a cold, merciless precision.Warmth spread across my neck, the metallic smell sharp in the air. I gasped, the air a fleeting luxury as my body thrashed instinctively beneath his weight."Look at you," Luca sneered, his voice low, dripping with venom. "The great Matteo Nevarro reduced to this. Pathetic." His face hovered just above mine, his grin unhinged, his green eyes alight with triumph. My vision blurred, edges darkening as the oxygen slipped away. My hands clawed at his wrists, my fingers trembling with desperation, but his grip remained unyielding.The lunatic was truly going to kill me.Then, as the world began to darken, her face appeared. Valentina. Her laughter, light and rare, the way her lips curled despite the weight of her own
Valentina.The silence after a gunshot could be deafening, a void that swallows everything. No one ever talked about how it felt to pull the trigger that took a life, even if said life had been dead long before you pulled that trigger.I stood there, my arms hanging limp by the sides, the gun slipping from my hand to clatter on the blood-streaked floor. My chest heaved with shallow breaths as I stared at her... our mother, slumped and motionless.So quiet in the face of death.Her lifeless eyes stared back at me, now glassy and unseeing. Blood pooled around her head, soaking into the floor, a dark halo of guilt I'd painted myself."No," I whispered, the word tasting foreign and hollow.My knees buckled, but I didn't fall. My body was rooted, trapped in this moment, as if time itself refused to let me leave.What had I done? From the corner of my vision, Isabella shifted. Her face fixed with a mask of indifference, though her lips were curling ever so slightly into a smirk that sent
Valentina."Matteo!" The scream ripped from my throat, raw and primal, echoing off the walls. My hands trembled as I pressed them harder against the gaping wound on his neck. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and sticky, staining my skin and my soul."No, no, no," I choked out, my voice cracking as I leaned over him. "Matteo, stay with me. Please, stay with me."His face was getting paler with every second that passed, his chest rising and falling in those shallow, uneven rhythms.I pressed harder against the wound, ignoring the way my hands shook, ignoring the tears streaming down my face. "You're not leaving me," I whispered fiercely. "Do you hear me? You're not allowed to leave me!""Somebody, help!"Anybody.Isabella stood near the edge of the room, arms crossed and face unreadable. Her lips twisted into that maddening, faint smirk as Luca’s... there had to be his... men darted around her, their boots pounding against the floor.The moment the faint wail of sirens broke thro
Valentina.Matteo woke up twelve hours after his surgery. I was there, standing in the corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows cast by the dim hospital lighting. I'd stayed long after the others had been ushered out... Valerie, Lorenzo, Ethan... all of them trying to coax me into taking a moment to rest, to eat, to breathe.But I couldn't leave him.When his eyes finally fluttered open, confusion clouded his expression. Those beautiful eyes wandered, tracing the IV in his arm, the bandages around his neck, and the faint rhythm of the heart monitor beside him.He looked so lost.I wanted to rush at him, to grab his hand, to tell him he was safe. But my feet felt like lead, my chest tightening with an ache that I didn't know how to express.So I stayed where I was, watching him from afar. The staff couldn't believe I was the same woman who had almost thrown herself on his bed so I would be wheeled in with him.Matteo murmured something... a weak, hoarse sound I couldn't make out..
"You’ll take Isabella’s place, Valentina. There’s no other choice."My mother's words echoed in my mind as I stood before the gates of the Nevarro Estate, the world as I knew it crumbling beneath my feet.The gates groaned as they opened, a shiver tracing down my spine."Your sister is gone. Disappeared without a trace. The little wretch took all the money we had, too."The estate was every bit as grand and imposing as I'd imagined, a testament to the wealth and power of the Nevarro family. But there was nothing coming about it.It was a fortress, and I was its latest prisoner."Marry Matteo Nevarro. Have his heirs, and nothing would ever happen to you again."I had never been here before, not even when my father had to come because of his little business with the former Don.Mom always kept me away, insisting that it was unnecessary to let him know he had two daughters.It had been Isabella, who was promised to Matteo Nevarro, not me.Never me.But with Isabella gone, I had to step u
"Good morning, Mrs Nevarro."I screamed.As loud as I could and for all to hear."Mrs Nevaro!!!!"The first rays of dawn seeped through the heavy curtains, casting a dull light across the room.And a lady was staring down at me.Where was I? "Mrs Nevarro!!!" She tried again, and then it all came back to me.Matteo Nevarro, the wedding, the wing. His love for my sister. It was like a never ending dream.My prison.I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Matteo's blue eyes staring at me with a cold and calculating gaze, the weight of his expectations pressing down on me.And now this lady. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a sleek blue dress, her hair pulled back into a neat bun. A tray filled with breakfast - fresh fruit, pancakes, and a cold cup of juice - was at my bedside table."Good morning, Mrs Nevaro." She said, her voice polite but distant. "I'm glad you've stopped screaming. I'm Caterina, Mr Nevaro asked me to assist you with anything you might need during
Matteo"She's beautiful."Black had always been my favourite colour. Hidden. Silent. Deadly.I felt at home with it, like siblings whose bonds grew stronger every day.Yet in the span of a second, Valentina had upended that as she had every other thing in my life.Heat poured down my body as Valentina mixed various colours in a flat disk, creating a mixture to paint across the canvas. She was colour and chaos, a whirlwind of unpredictable energy I should have stayed away from.I hated it.I hated how she made me question everything. How she made me wish I didn't give up on my search.And I hated how much I wanted her.She wasn't supposed to be mine. She wasn't supposed to be anyone’s.But fate had always been cruel.The art gallery in the estate was small, almost quaint, but it had become a place of refuge for her. A sanctuary where she could lose herself and hide from Caterina, I guessed.Isabella had been the brain behind the idea. She thought it would be nice for me to have a plac
Valentina."You have to learn the names of everyone that would attend. Who likes who, who hates who."The days blurred together in a haze of unfamiliar routines and uneasy silence.Caterina, true to Maverick words, was always nearby, guiding me through each task like with a strict efficiency even my mom never had. She left no room for conversation. "Isn't that too much? Who they liked or who they hated? How am I supposed to learn that?" I asked.She gave no reply. The next day, a large book on the history of the Nevarros was lying beside me, and I had to learn about each member of the family.By the time the evening of the first event I was supposed to attend with Matteo arrived, I was well grounded on almost everyone in the mafia world.I was also numb.It felt easier that way. Like I was an actress playing a role, that this wasn't my life.However, standing in front of the mirror in my room, dressed in an elegant black gown that hugged my body in all the right places, I understood
Valentina.Matteo woke up twelve hours after his surgery. I was there, standing in the corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows cast by the dim hospital lighting. I'd stayed long after the others had been ushered out... Valerie, Lorenzo, Ethan... all of them trying to coax me into taking a moment to rest, to eat, to breathe.But I couldn't leave him.When his eyes finally fluttered open, confusion clouded his expression. Those beautiful eyes wandered, tracing the IV in his arm, the bandages around his neck, and the faint rhythm of the heart monitor beside him.He looked so lost.I wanted to rush at him, to grab his hand, to tell him he was safe. But my feet felt like lead, my chest tightening with an ache that I didn't know how to express.So I stayed where I was, watching him from afar. The staff couldn't believe I was the same woman who had almost thrown herself on his bed so I would be wheeled in with him.Matteo murmured something... a weak, hoarse sound I couldn't make out..
Valentina."Matteo!" The scream ripped from my throat, raw and primal, echoing off the walls. My hands trembled as I pressed them harder against the gaping wound on his neck. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and sticky, staining my skin and my soul."No, no, no," I choked out, my voice cracking as I leaned over him. "Matteo, stay with me. Please, stay with me."His face was getting paler with every second that passed, his chest rising and falling in those shallow, uneven rhythms.I pressed harder against the wound, ignoring the way my hands shook, ignoring the tears streaming down my face. "You're not leaving me," I whispered fiercely. "Do you hear me? You're not allowed to leave me!""Somebody, help!"Anybody.Isabella stood near the edge of the room, arms crossed and face unreadable. Her lips twisted into that maddening, faint smirk as Luca’s... there had to be his... men darted around her, their boots pounding against the floor.The moment the faint wail of sirens broke thro
Valentina.The silence after a gunshot could be deafening, a void that swallows everything. No one ever talked about how it felt to pull the trigger that took a life, even if said life had been dead long before you pulled that trigger.I stood there, my arms hanging limp by the sides, the gun slipping from my hand to clatter on the blood-streaked floor. My chest heaved with shallow breaths as I stared at her... our mother, slumped and motionless.So quiet in the face of death.Her lifeless eyes stared back at me, now glassy and unseeing. Blood pooled around her head, soaking into the floor, a dark halo of guilt I'd painted myself."No," I whispered, the word tasting foreign and hollow.My knees buckled, but I didn't fall. My body was rooted, trapped in this moment, as if time itself refused to let me leave.What had I done? From the corner of my vision, Isabella shifted. Her face fixed with a mask of indifference, though her lips were curling ever so slightly into a smirk that sent
Matteo.The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, sharp and suffocating. Luca's knee drove deeper into my chest, pinning me to the blood-slick floor. The knife in his hand pressed harder against my throat, its edge biting into flesh with a cold, merciless precision.Warmth spread across my neck, the metallic smell sharp in the air. I gasped, the air a fleeting luxury as my body thrashed instinctively beneath his weight."Look at you," Luca sneered, his voice low, dripping with venom. "The great Matteo Nevarro reduced to this. Pathetic." His face hovered just above mine, his grin unhinged, his green eyes alight with triumph. My vision blurred, edges darkening as the oxygen slipped away. My hands clawed at his wrists, my fingers trembling with desperation, but his grip remained unyielding.The lunatic was truly going to kill me.Then, as the world began to darken, her face appeared. Valentina. Her laughter, light and rare, the way her lips curled despite the weight of her own
Matteo."I'll kill you with my own hands, Luca."My breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as I squared off with Luca. His men surrounded us, their guns trained on me, and Lorenzo’s men who had survived the chaos outside. The air in the room was electric, thick with tension, and the metallic tang of blood."I should have known," I continued before he said anything again, keeping my voice low yet steady. "I should've known you'd never stop until you destroyed everything."Luca had always wanted what wasn't meant for him. Even from a younger age, when he had come to live with my father and I, alongside his mother and sister, he had wanted everything I had.Every toy.Every achievement.He simply wanted to have it all. And every single time he got it then he destroyed it afterwards. He burnt the toys, he tore the certificates, he told the lesson teachers to leave or he'll scar them."Destroyed?" Luca echoed, a laugh bursting from him, dark and sharp. "You're standing in front of the onl
Matteo."I hate you. Do you hear me? I HATE YOU."My hands had lingered on the cold steel of the door handle when she screamed those words, the echo of the lock sliding into place still ringing in my ears.It wasn't a decision I had taken lightly.Locking Valentina up in a room with her psycho of a mother to keep her safe was probably the dumbest thing I had ever done, but it was worth it. If it gave her an opportunity to leave here safely, then I had to believe that.My boots scraped against the concrete as I forced myself to move, step by step, away from that door. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by a mix of guilt and resolve.Fuck.Had I done the right thing?No. I couldn't afford to think about that now, so I pushed the thought aside, my jaw tightening as I straightened my posture. There was no time for doubt.Luca was out there, and every second spent questioning my decision was just a second wasted. When this was over, I would fall to her feet, kiss it, even
Valentina.The words echoed in my head like a gunshot, deafening and final. Pedro Nevarro is dead.My hands trembled as I lowered my gun, my mind racing. Pedro Nevarro was the father to Matteo, Luca, and Sophia Nevarro. An institution that defies all forces and came back stronger to rule his gang with his heir. If Luca had managed to kill him...I didn’t finish the thought. I couldn’t. In front of me, Isabella’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted sort of satisfaction. She confused me most times. The woman who had changed within minutes of our departure, then helped me by giving me clues and all..."Well," she said lightly, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve, "it seems our dear family is shrinking faster than expected."But irrespective of all she had done for me, I didn't know her. Didn't understand her. Didn't trust her.So I shot her a glare, my chest tightening with fury. "Shut up, Isabella." But she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. She was much more talkati
Valentina. "Luca is here!" Someone shouted from somewhere in the forsaken warehouse, the words cutting through the distant gunfire like a blade.Chaos erupted around us. The echoes of bullets ricocheted through the warehouse, sharp and unforgiving. The air felt heavy with the tang of metal and sweat, pressing down on me with every breath I took.My heart thundered in my chest as I turned to Matteo. His face was a mask of focus, his jaw clenched tightly as he scanned the room for threats. “We have to leave,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “Now.” “No!” I yelled, my hands trembling as I gestured to the figure tied up on the floor. “We can’t just leave her here!” My mother’s glare burned into me from where she sat, bruised and bound, as though this entire mess was somehow my fault. “She doesn’t want our help,” Matteo snapped, his voice as cold as steel. I stared at him, disbelief twisting in my gut. “That doesn’t matter! I’m not leaving her!” The gunfire grew louder, clo
Valentina.The sharp scent of gasoline and damp concrete filled my nose as we walked through the narrow corridor of the abandoned warehouse.The walls loomed close, painted with age and grime, while faint echoes of dripping water amplified the unease curling in my stomach.I had felt it the entire drive here... that tightening in my chest, the nausea rolling under my ribs. It wasn’t just nerves. It was dread. A tangible warning that something terrible was waiting for us. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to turn back. Matteo stalked ahead, his shoulders tense, his gun held low but ready. Alessia flanked the rear, her eyes scanning the shadows, every muscle in her body coiled for action. The rest of the men were intertwined with us, close enough to know they were around yet far enough that I couldn't see them.We moved in silence, connected only by the whispers of Lorenzo’s voice in our earpieces, feeding us directions and updates. “Five guards on the north side, Matteo,” Lorenzo