"I encountered Franco in a coffee shop by chance," Madeline began, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and pain. "He literally bumped into me, spilling coffee all over my new dress. We laughed it off, and he was incredibly apologetic. He insisted on making it right. At that time, I had a small apartment separate from my father's residence. I wasn't hiding, which made it easier for him to find my address. The next day, four exquisite and expensive dresses arrived. I was taken aback and called him to thank him. He then asked me out to dinner." "He was seeing your sister?" I inquired, trying to piece together the timeline. "Yes, but I had no knowledge of it. She had kept his identity a secret from me, although I sensed that something was terribly wrong," Madeline explained, her grip on my hand tightening. She leaned her face against the glass, seeking solace. "It's ironic, he treated me wonderfully for about three months. Then he became possessive. I had been raised well by my fath
"My mother was known by the stage name Daphne Phillips. That was all I knew for the first few months. She had no idea who I was until a reporter captured a photo of us together, and the next day, a scathing article was published in the Times. I think she had suspicions because of a mutual friend we had. After the article, I revealed everything to her about myself and my life, the responsibilities I carried as I prepared to take over from my father. I believed I had lost her. There were no tears, no outbursts. Just silence. She walked away, and I thought I would never see her again." "But you did." "One week later, she called me, asking me to meet for a drink. We went to our favorite little bar, and she did all the talking." He hesitated, closing his eyes. "Who was she, Father? What was my mother's real name?" "Her name was... Sophia Massimo." In an instant, the room felt devoid of light, and his words echoed. "What. Did. You. Say?" "She was Dante's only daughter. The bullet that
I waited until he left the room before accessing the file. I had suspicions about the identity of the mole, but I needed confirmation, which I now had. The drive didn't take long, and when I arrived at the quiet street lined with trees, it was late afternoon. I retrieved the silenced Glock from the glove compartment and concealed it in my jacket. I wanted to handle this situation cleanly. The car was in the driveway, and there were no visitors. Moving around to the back of the house, the tall shrubs provided cover from prying neighbors. The small, run-down rancher had seen better days, with three rotten windows at the back. I found the back door unlocked and entered without being seen. A television was playing in the distance, but my instincts were on high alert. As I stepped into the living room, our eyes met, and it felt like a standoff. "You were expecting me." "I figured there was no way you couldn't know," Shane said, sitting on the couch with his revolver on his lap. I took t
He appeared touched by my words, and a smile returned to his face. "Think about it. What I can offer you is danger, a life where you're always looking over your shoulder." "Do you honestly think it would be any different from what I have now? I will always be a target, no matter where I live or what name I go by. You have to understand that," I replied, placing my hand on his arm, carefully choosing my words. "I don't want you to hurt me." "Then I won't," he said, his voice tinged with a sigh, shifting the glass he held between his hands. "I don't want to shut you out." "Don't. Please don't shut me out. I can handle anything, but not that," I pleaded, my voice filled with emotion. When he remained silent, I felt my frustration building. "How dare you bring me to this beautiful and romantic place, pretending to care about me, only to shut me out completely. I went through so much because I love you." Raising an eyebrow, he turned towards me. "You love me?" "Yes. I honestly don't kn
"Hmm... How do you think people will react when they see me whip your reddened behind?" I suppressed a whimper, my eyes fixated on the bustling street below, stealing glances to ensure our intimate act remained concealed from prying eyes on neighboring balconies. I felt both mortified and ashamed, yet an undeniable thrill coursed through me. "No. No, sir." "Do you desire me to punish you, my dear Madeline, to absolve you of your transgressions?" I hesitated, taking several deep breaths. The sharp impact against my bare buttocks served as a reminder not to displease him. "Yes. Please, sir." Victor entwined his hand in my hair, gently tugging until my neck was exposed. "So be it, then." Aware that he had retreated into the shadows, observing and analyzing me, I shifted uneasily, buffeted by the wind against my naked body. I felt so alive, every muscle tingling with anticipation. I had never experienced such a potent mixture of excitement and humiliation. The combination left my aro
VICTOR Proposing to Madeline had not been part of my initial plan. In fact, I had been determined to push her away, believing that her life would always be filled with danger and hardships. Besides, I never saw myself as the marrying type. I chuckled softly to myself as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. We were only a few miles away from her father's estate, and I had made a demanding request for an audience with Antonio, her father. Surprisingly, he didn't seem taken aback by my request, although I hadn't mentioned that Madeline would be accompanying me. She was my weakness, but also an integral part of my being. The idea of marriage had never crossed my mind until I heard the fatal gunshot that ended the life of a man I once trusted. It was in that moment that I realized how fleeting life could be. The ring on Madeline's finger belonged to my mother, one of the few pieces of jewelry my father had given her that held sentimental value. Deep down, I knew my mother would have
He remained silent, and in a matter of seconds, she grabbed his arm, causing him to nearly stumble. As I approached, he raised his hand, gesturing for me to stop, shaking his head. "My daughter deserves an explanation. I assume that's why you're here." She laughed, her hand poised as if she were about to strike him. "Don't," I interjected softly. Madeline recoiled, exhaling sharply. "You're right. He's not worth it." I knew there was more to her father's anguish and the decision he had made. "You were aware that my father had fallen in love with Sophia Massimo." Antonio appeared taken aback, almost pleasantly surprised, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. "Yes. I introduced them. You see, there was a time when I had feelings for Sophia, but we were distant cousins. When she went to America to pursue an acting career, I followed her progress, occasionally visiting her when I was there on business. I had already begun taking over from my father, so my presence was req
Monte Carlo Under the radiant sunshine of a picturesque afternoon, we graced the red carpets of my movie premiere. The crowd, numbering in the thousands, eagerly gathered to catch a glimpse of a mafia king portrayed as a hero—a spectacle fit for the annals of cinematic legends. However, deep down, I yearned to distance myself from this world. As the crowd chanted my name—"Carnal King! Carnal King!"—Madeline, my beloved, laughed beside me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She clung to my arm, and as we walked, she couldn't help but comment on the spectacle unfolding before us. Her words were laced with both curiosity and a touch of disdain for my co-star, whose appearance resembled that of a fairy princess. Such thoughts, however, remained mere fantasies, as I chuckled along, playing my part in this grand performance. Amidst the camera flashes and the roar of the crowd, I maintained a vigilant watch, scanning the faces before me, even as I maintained the facade of delight. The ques
I went for a drive to visit Stefan at the hospital before returning home. Upon entering the house, I immediately sensed its coldness and stillness. It seemed as though Emily had left, and although I would have been devastated, I couldn't bring myself to be angry. She deserved to have a happy life. With a heavy heart, I dropped my keys on the hallway table, finding it difficult to proceed further into my own lifeless dwelling. Without Emily, there was no love, no brightness. I made my way towards my office, and as I approached the open door, I froze. She had discovered the papers I had signed, another secret I had kept from her. Frustration welled up inside me. Then, a delightful aroma of vanilla and cinnamon caught my attention, emanating from the kitchen. Confused, I ventured closer, and my senses were greeted by additional scents that made my mouth water: garlic, tomatoes, onions, and the fragrance of fresh bread. Taking cautious steps, I continued towards the kitchen, and amidst
"Mmmm... And I love you," I replied, my heart filled with the weight of those words. We remained wrapped in each other's embrace for several minutes, and when he finally eased away, I felt an unexpected sense of emptiness, a subtle pang of loneliness. An irrational fear crept into my mind—that I would always worry about his return, that I would never feel completely safe. But as if he sensed my unease, he zipped up his jeans and gathered me into his arms, disregarding our disheveled state as he led me back to the living room. Tenderly, he settled me on the couch, pulling a blanket over my naked body. Then, he simply disappeared. Confusion and worry washed over me. Had I done something wrong? I waited anxiously for a few minutes, contemplating getting up from the couch, when he reappeared. In his hands, he held an open bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses. It was a moment of enchantment, especially coming from a man who claimed not to have a romantic bone in his body. He pour
I also came to understand that Rafael had his limits when it came to sharing details about his business and his involvement in certain matters. He had mentioned before that it was partly to protect me, although I couldn't be certain if it was solely due to a lack of trust. Regardless, I decided not to push the issue at that moment. Instead, I cherished the time we spent together, enjoying our dinners and the comfort of his embrace. Amidst the chaos of bullets and death, a realization nagged at me, refusing to be ignored. Sensing an opportunity to lighten the mood, I playfully said, "What if I promise that I'll never let that happen again?" Rafael pulled me up from the ground, a skeptical look on his face. "Do you honestly think I would fall for such a promise?" he replied. "Not at all. You're a wise old man," I teased, unable to suppress a grin. Despite his guarded nature, Rafael had shown me various facets of his personality, including his vulnerability. My love for him was profoun
EMILY Love. That single word had replaced the suffocating fear that had nearly drained me of the will to survive, even though thoughts of death still lingered. Despite being assured that the nightmare was over. From the moment that bastard had forcibly taken me from William's house, I had resigned myself to never seeing Rafael again. While the monster had not followed through on his threat, instead locking me away until he eventually dragged me to the club, I couldn't shake his cowardly face from my mind. But amidst the haunting images that I knew would fade with time, Rafael's heartfelt words echoed in my ears. The horror in his eyes when he laid eyes on me confirmed that he would move heaven and earth to find me, if need be. Curled up under a blanket on the couch, my legs tucked close to my chest, I gazed at the crackling fire he had built. The uncharacteristic cold snap had given him an excuse to pamper me with hot chocolate, the fire perpetually ablaze. I would never have exp
As I made my way towards the elevator, I noticed the attention I was receiving from those present in the club. Although some of my soldiers were discreetly positioned throughout the venue, it was much easier to identify the members of the Kadik gang with their leather jackets and dark jeans. I confidently approached a group of them, extending my arms. "I have an appointment with Konstantin." As I had expected, they conducted a search for weapons before allowing me to enter the empty elevator. The doors opened, and I could hear classical music playing from the speakers, an intriguing choice considering the nature of the individual I was about to meet. There he was, seated like a king, reclining in an opulent velour chair with one leg casually draped over the armrest. Dressed in a flowing white shirt and loose dark trousers, his appearance would have been almost comical if not for the underlying tension. "Konstantin Solntsevskaya," I greeted him, noting that Emily was nowhere to be s
He followed closely behind me, mirroring my confident stride. The time for this relentless war to reach its conclusion had arrived. And we were determined to emerge victorious. I inserted the drive into my computer, accessing the array of files it contained. "What are we up against?" Aleksei inquired, his customary vodka in hand. "Lists of names, supporters of our respective organizations," I replied. It was evident that someone had gone to great lengths, investing significant time and effort, to compile such an extensive and incriminating roster. "Blackmail," Miguel murmured, his voice barely audible. Indeed, it was a form of blackmail, but not the kind Armando had previously hinted at. "A weapon of sorts," Victor suggested. I glanced at him, acknowledging his insight. "You're correct. It targets those who work for us, placing them in impossible positions. They are left with no choice but to either yield or flee, eradicating crucial support from the police, city councils, atto
Despite the enjoyable moments we shared watching games and sharing drinks, we had neglected to engage in meaningful conversations. In all honesty, I found myself somewhat intimidated by him – his amiable nature, kindness, and passion for life, which was completely devoid of violence. Perhaps it was time to change that. "Hey there. I heard you're improving," I said, unsure if I expected him to open his eyes or not, but I sensed that he heard me. "Everything will be alright. Just know that I have my best men protecting you." All I heard in response were the various sounds of the machines. Frustrating. Swallowing hard, aware that I didn't have as much time as I would have liked, I held his hand tightly as a solitary tear rolled down my cheek. What had become of our family? "Anyway, I can't stay long, but I'll be back, alright?" There was no response, no acknowledgement of any kind. "Stefan, know that I love you, brother." I squeezed his hand once more, finally letting go. For some in
"Who? Who the hell took her?" Through a series of strained breaths, he managed to utter, "Ra..." Blood-tinged bubbles escaped his lips, followed by a violent cough that wracked his body. It was evident that time was running out for him. "Russian." A chill ran down my spine, and I bristled at the revelation. Axel could never be mistaken for a Russian. "Okay, just rest," I urged, despite the conflicting emotions within me. I realized that he might still hold valuable information. Refusing to release my arm, he tugged me down closer to him. "Desk. Look. Drive." I glanced towards his desk, trying to comprehend his words. "Take... it." "Alright." Rising to my feet, I walked over to his desk, methodically opening each drawer. Finally, I discovered a solitary jump drive. It had to be what he was referring to. Returning to his side, I held the drive in front of his face. "Is this what Lucas was going to give Emily?" "Ya... yes. A copy." He began coughing up more blood, his chest heaving
The others looked on silently, aware that the day had come when we would have to reveal our secret meetings. There was no avoiding it any longer. "Then we work together until this is resolved, regardless of the consequences," I declared. Each person in the room nodded in agreement. We had received assistance and information, but what we faced was unprecedented. The fact that sworn enemies had formed an alliance meant someone knew we were working together, and they saw it as a weakness. But we knew better. We were a formidable force, and we had much to lose if we failed, especially the safety of our loved ones. After ending the call with Dante, I walked away from the others, dialing the number again to relay the necessary information to my father. It was a futile gesture, as I knew he would never forgive his impulsive son. "Dante, things are getting intense. We need to organize the soldiers immediately," I said urgently. "Rafael, we have a problem," Dante replied, his voice laced w