BELLA Checking up on Fabi and Mamma one last time, I headed downstairs. The events had shaken everyone today. I knew I had nothing to reassure them with, not until Adonis and Matteo were back. Dante and Julian, the enforcer, were on the couch, faces smeared with tension. Julian’s phone buzzed, and
“I should’ve killed that kid when I caught hold of Durant. That fucking bastard! Even his son isn’t any less,” Julian groaned. “He’s just a kid,” I murmured under my breath. That was what I believed. Aleksandr was a kid whose father had done terrible things and got taken away from him. He could no
ADONIS Nine years ago I had killed a man an hour ago, only to become something I had never imagined—the boss of the most powerful crime family in the New York Cosa Nostra. The capo of the Vitale Crime Empire. Everyone expected me to give a speech about this uplifting experience, to tell them of the plans I had for the future of this syndicate. To say I had any would’ve been a lie. Everything about this was sudden, a catastrophe I couldn’t put a stop on. But, lucky for me, the moment I stepped on the stage, a courier arrived in my name—a box wrapped in colourful papers and adorned with ribbons like a fucking Christmas gift—stopping me from giving a speech I hadn’t even prepared. “Open the box,” dozens of suited men now under my reign yelled, curiosity piquing in their voices. I had no choice but to oblige. I hadn’t received a present in ages, at least not in boxes unless they were dead bodies of traitors and liabilities, or expensive drugs, weapons and liquors. This box looked to
BELLA “You could’ve told him to shove that empty file up his fat ass,” Harley said, gulping her fifth tequila shot. If I hadn’t known her better, I would've been surprised. Harley’s limit, which an average person called drunk, was only getting started, whereas I was on my fourth and my head was already hulking with the beats. “I seriously don’t want to talk about it on my night off. God forbid, we don’t get many of these.” “You’re right.” She shrugged. “Ron’s a dick. He keeps handing extension contracts to us because he’s too much of a slacker to go recruiting himself. At least you’re lucky this is your last mission. I still have one and a half years for my contract to fucking end.” “My last mission was supposed to be the end of my agent days,” I said, slouching in my seat at the bar. “What made you agree to this?” she asked. “Coming to think of it, you’ve never accepted a mission remotely close to the Mafia world.” “With good reason.” The reason I would rather die with than tel
ADONIS After hours of damage control at the casino, Dom and I returned to the warehouse where the drama had already started. Our latest rat’s, Nico’s, screams echoed through the metal door of the basement. Those sounds would only get louder and fiercer. I hated traitors. Betrayal was punishable by a slow, painful death. I paused and turned to Dom. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything I should know before I go in?” “Julian called,” Dom responded in a hushed tone. “He said the club’s full of teenagers. Mostly. Everyone is being drugged, men and women.” “Stop all of it. Clear the bar and get everyone back home safely,” I ordered. “And I need Nico’s lackeys. Catch as many as you can. I need to know how many people they’ve transported till now and where.” “Okay.” He nodded, dialling on his phone. “This racket needs to be stopped.” I pushed the rusty door open; the handle stained with dried blood. Nico’s hands were shackled to the ceiling with thick metal chains that
BELLA Fluttering my eyes open, the white ceiling was the first thing I noticed. My heart skipped a beat. I blinked several times, hoping the ceiling to somehow fade into the colour of that in my apartment—a light greyish. James’s disgusting grin flashed before my eyes and I squealed, covering my face with the blanket and throwing my legs on the bed. “You did not,” I said to myself. “You didn’t,” a male voice answered. I peered out of the blanket and my eyes paused on a pair of turquoise blue eyes standing near the doorframe of the room. I pulled myself upright on the bed, my cheeks heating. This man was definitely a treat for my sore eyes with a long face, pointed nose, a sharp jawline and a perfect V waist stressed by his tight t-shirt. The fringes of his dark-brown hair were dyed light-brown at the front. I felt a flush of relief overcome me. “And I am your handsome saviour. Your knight in shining armour.” “It’s irritating how guys find those words so satisfying to utter.” “
BELLA If anyone hated our boss wholeheartedly, it was my tech buddy, Colton Davis. With the right amount of wit, Cole could just as easily blow Ron’s shit up. The part of the job I loved most was Cole, since the first mission we partnered on and every other project through the years. He and I were the golden pair, the dynamic duo of the Skyfall Corps. While I was the arms and the heavy lifter, he was the brain and an absolute mastermind. Cole looked a lot better than he did two days ago, less exhausted. He scratched his head. “Ron gave me a shit ton of lecture on this. All bullshit! He could’ve handed us this,” he tore the sticky note off the leather file our boss had handed me, "sticky note, instead of the stupid, empty file. What are we supposed to do? Fill this?" “Maybe you should take this up with him.” “I’d end up choosing violence over a civilised conversation, B, which is so not me.” He fanned his face. “He offered this to us because everyone else refused. I can bet on it.”
ADONIS David Vitale was a man of power, and everyone was aware of it. Even though his reign as the capo had ended nine years ago, most of the underbosses, captains, and soldiers feared him still. But despite all the power he held, he had not an ounce of respect from my side. Just tolerance. Liking a family member didn’t need to be a necessity to have dinner or breakfast at the same table. It was true; I was who I was because of him, but he had his own selfish reasons for making me the capo of the Vitale Empire. Why else would he give such an influential position to a nephew he barely liked? To the bastard child of the family? “Where’s your father?” I asked Phoebe as I sat at the long table, beside the head seat that belonged to Uncle. Phoebe looked up at me from across the table with her light-blue eyes while munching on her plate of buttered toast and bacon. “He’s upstairs.” “What’s he doing?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask him?” She scoffed. “It’s not like he answers me,