SICILY, ITALY... **Demetri's POV** I placed the two briefcases on the table with a firm thud, the weight of their contents undeniable. Inside them were twelve kilograms of heroin, each brick wrapped tightly, worth a total of a million dollars. With a calculated motion, I flipped open both cases, revealing the pristine product. My eyes locked on the man standing across from me, an Italian businessman who knew the stakes just as well as I did. "Sixty percent purity range comes at a high price," I said evenly. "As we agreed, this heroin costs a million dollars." He didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, he placed his briefcase on the table and opened it, revealing neatly stacked bills. A million dollars, just as promised. After exchanging the goods, we shook hands. However, before we could part ways, the police stormed in, disrupting the deal. My instincts took over. In one swift move, I grabbed the cash with one hand and reached for my gun with the other. My men reacted instantly, dra
**Third Person POV** She ran after Demetri when he started walking away. Her mind was spinning, her chest tightening with unease. Where had Marcus gone? His long strides had put too much distance between them, and she struggled to keep up. As they turned a corner, Demetri suddenly stopped in his tracks. She peeked past him, trying to see what had caught his attention. Then, she saw him. Marcus. Standing inside the elevator with another man, just as the doors were closing. Panic surged through her. Without thinking, she pushed past Demetri and slammed her finger on the open button. But it was too late. The elevator had already begun its ascent. Her heart pounded as she watched the floor indicator. 20th floor. She pressed the button again, waiting—desperate. But the moment the doors slid open, just as she was about to press the close button, Demetri stopped her. His hand darted forward, pressing the ground-floor button instead. She snapped her head toward him, disbelief flood
**Snow's POV** I turned my head toward the dance floor, my vision slightly blurred from the alcohol coursing through my system. My body felt light, almost floating, but the ache in my chest remained unbearable. Even in my drunken state, I made a choice... to lose myself in the music, in the bodies moving around me, in the strangers who didn’t know my name or my pain. This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. Bars, crowds, and men pressing too close, I avoided them at all costs. I hated the way too many eyes made me feel small like I was prey. But tonight, I didn’t care. Pushing past the writhing bodies, I found my rhythm, my hips swaying in time with the heavy bass. The world around me spun, but I kept moving. I didn’t care what would happen tomorrow. I didn’t care if I regretted this the moment I woke up. Right now, all I wanted was to drown out the betrayal, to silence the voice in my head reminding me of the man who broke me. The one I trusted. The one I thought was different. A shrie
**Demetri's POV** As Snow’s lips pressed against mine, I instinctively closed my eyes, letting the taste of alcohol linger between us. She was drunk, there was no denying that. But when I kissed her back, she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned in, her fingers tightening around the lapel of my coat as if holding on for dear life. I cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding into her mouth but she didn’t know how to kiss. Is this for real?! Or maybe, she's just drunk and alcohol makes her sanity forget how to execute a French kiss. But if it's real, it amazes me. Snow and Marcus had been together for five years, there was no way they hadn’t made out before. And yet, her movements were unpracticed, uncertain. As if she had never kissed anyone like this before. I pulled back slightly, staring at her pretty face. Her hazel brown eyes were half-lidded, and her usually flawless cheeks flushed a deep red. She looked dazed, lost. And yet, even in this state, she was gorg
**Snow's POV** A gentle piano melody woke me up. My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light filling the room. My head hurt a little, and my body felt strangely heavy. I sat up, feeling confused. This wasn’t my room. The bed was much softer than mine, and the silky sheets felt cool against my skin. The air smelled like expensive cologne and fresh flowers. I looked around, my breath catching as I saw my surroundings. This place… it was nothing like my bedroom. Large windows with sheer white curtains let golden sunlight pour in. The high ceiling had beautiful designs, and a crystal chandelier sparkled in the center. Soft carpets, delicate paintings, and gold decorations filled the room. Everything looked rich, elegant, and expensive. I froze. This wasn’t just a fancy hotel room. This was a penthouse. Fear rushed through me. I pushed the blankets away and sat up, my bare feet touching the soft rug. My heart beat fast. How did I get here? Why was I in this place? And then.
Demetri picked up the newspaper from the glass table and gave it to me. My hands shook a little as I took it and my heart beat faster.The moment my eyes saw the big, bold headline, a cold fear washed over me.What…?Why does it say that I’m the one who cheated?My stomach twisted painfully. This had to be some kind of mistake."I-Is this true?" My voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper.I scanned the article again, hoping and praying that I had misread it.But there it was, in black and white, condemning me. The words twisted reality, painting me as the unfaithful one. The article accused me of betraying Marcus when, in truth, he was the one who had an affair with Feurene."Why… Why does it make it seem like I’m the villain?" My voice rose slightly."Why am I the one being blamed when it was Marcus who cheated? Why does it say I had an affair when I didn’t?"Frustration and disbelief bubbled up inside me. My hands clenched around the newspaper, crumpling the edges.Demetri exha
We sat facing each other at the dining table. The silence felt heavy. The only sounds were the clinking of cutlery on the plates and the faint noise of the city outside. I pushed the lettuce around my plate, barely touching the vegetable salad Demetri had prepared. Demetri had made a vegetable salad, but my stomach felt tight. The tension made it hard to feel hungry.“Eat more,” he said, his voice calm yet firm, as he scooped a generous portion of rice onto my plate.I instinctively reached out, my hand landing on his to stop him.When our skin touched, I felt a strange tension. His eyes moved to my fingers resting on his hand. For a moment, we both stayed still. Then, I realized what I had done. I pulled my hand away quickly and cleared my throat.“I don’t have much of an appetite in the morning,” I muttered, stabbing a piece of lettuce with my fork.“Salad is enough.”Demetri leaned back, observing me with an unreadable expression.“I’ll be buying wedding rings later,” he said as
Demetri’s eyes lingered on my neck, dark and unreadable. Something was unsettling about the way he looked at me like a hunter watching his prey. I should have moved, should have said something, but I felt paralyzed under his gaze.Then he reached out. He stands directly behind me while I remain seated, facing the table where we just finished our meal, the used plates and utensils still scattered in front of me.Then, he made his next move. He lifted the chair I was sitting on and turned it to face him. I instinctively tilted my head up slightly to look at him. He pulled a chair closer and sat directly in front of me.While looking at my eyes, his fingertip traced the curve of my cheek, slow and deliberate, the warmth of his touch seeping into my skin. I tensed, but he didn’t stop. His touch traveled down to my jaw, then lower, brushing against my throat. My pulse quickened beneath his fingertips.I swallowed hard.He shifted closer, his fingers sweeping my hair over one shoulder, expo
The next morning, Snow woke up to bright sunlight filling the room. It was so strong that it hurt her eyes, and she could barely open them. Her head ached with a dull pain, and when she sat up, she let out a small groan because the pain was too much. She rubbed her forehead, hoping to make it feel better. Then she noticed a man sitting nearby, reading. He wore glasses and was focused on the paper in his hands, not noticing that she was looking at him. Her jaw dropped when she fully recognized him. Fúck… he was drop-dead gorgeous. He looked incredibly handsome in those glasses. It was the first time she had seen him like that. As he turned to look at her with those intense, charming eyes, she couldn’t help but swallow nervously. Demetri was right there, sitting a bit away in front of her. He’d fúcking arrived. She’d thought he was still in Italy, and for a fleeting moment, she’d believed the steamy, filthy fúck-fest from last night was just a dream but it was real. She’d thought it w
Snow impulsively grabbed his bulging cóck, eliciting a low groan from him. Her lips parted as he yanked down his underwear himself, his massive díck springing free. She gripped it, marveling at its thick girth. Fúck, it was huge, mind-blowingly so. This guy’s côck matched her husband’s girth and length perfectly. He stepped closer, his hand tilting her jaw. “Open your mouth wide and suck my díck, honey…” he commanded. She’d tried it with Demetri before, but she knew he thought she sucked at blówjobs. She wasn’t good at it, but fúck it, she wanted to try again. She grabbed his hardened cóck again, licking the tip with slow, teasing flicks. He groaned softly, his hips twitching at her touch. He fúcking loved it. Of course, Demetri loved it. Snow’s warm mouth was heaven, even if she wasn’t a pro at sucking díck. The heat of her lips, stroking and licking his tip with her soft warm tongue, sent him soaring to ecstasy. Snow picked up the pace, struggling with his sheer size, her ey
Demetri turned sharply toward his wife. She was still lying in bed, barely moving. The effects of the drug were clearly not yet wearing off. If anything, her body heat seemed to be rising even more. She was visibly uncomfortable. And unless someone did something about it, that drug’s effect wouldn’t fade on its own. “I... n-need water...” Snow whimpered weakly. With an irritated sigh, Demetri released Marcus and stood up. Just as he stepped toward the bed to check on her, Marcus suddenly kicked him hard behind the knees. Demetri dropped to the floor in pain, clutching his leg where the impact landed. Marcus didn’t stop there. He delivered several sharp kicks to Demetri’s torso. But Demetri caught the last one, twisted Marcus’s leg, and tugged him down. Marcus crashed to the floor. Now both of them were on the ground, bruised and breathless but neither willing to surrender. “P-Please... I need s-some water...” Snow pleaded again from the bed. “What the hell happened to her?!” Deme
"Welcome back to the Philippines, sir," Tiara greeted him just like always. One of his staff is always present. Every time Demetri returned home, Tiara was the one waiting. But despite the years they'd worked together, he had never once seen her smile. Never heard her laugh."How's Italy, sir?" she asked in her usual serious tone."Boring..." Demetri muttered as he walked toward the car waiting to take him to the penthouse. He was supposed to stay in Italy for two weeks, but he’d cut the trip short. He wasn’t the same Demetri who once indulged in the charm of Italian women. The one who used to fly there just to play with fire. Now, only one woman occupied his thoughts—his wife, Snow, whom he missed more than he could admit.The longing had become unbearable, so he came home.But it wasn’t just longing that brought him back, it was the frustration too. Snow had barely been answering his calls or replying to his messages. So he decided to surprise her."Let’s stop by a flower shop. I w
Marcus pulled away. He ended the kiss even though it was obvious he didn’t want to. His hands lingered, his breath shaky, and his eyes? Full of frustration, longing, and a quiet disappointment. But he still gently pushed her back, like it physically hurt him to let go. He opened the car door, holding himself together, even if the storm inside him was obvious. Outside, Snow bodyguards, Oscar and Marshall waited, pretending they hadn’t just watched everything. “Let’s go,” Marcus said softly. She glared at him. “You need some rest,” he added, reaching out for her wrist. She jerked her arm away before he could touch her, her frustration rising like a tide. Rest? Was he serious? The only thing she wanted right now… was him. Still, he helped her out of the car. Attentive, annoyingly so. When she tripped slightly, he caught her fast and steady. Her arms wrapped around his neck before she even realized it. And she didn’t let go. In fact... she held on tighter. Maybe that was her mist
**Third Person POV** Snow heard Demetria call out Marcus’s name. He immediately turned and rushed toward them. Snow gripped Demetria’s arm tightly, her strength slipping away as she fought against the blurring in her vision. Through the haze, she could still make out Marcus’s face, his features etched with deep worry as he took in her condition. “What do we do? Should we take her to the hospital?” Marcus asked, his voice strained with panic. Snow raised her hand to stop him. She motioned no, already knowing exactly what he was thinking. A hospital was always his first response whenever she felt unwell. It was just his nature... so caring, thoughtful, overly protective even. That was part of what made her fall for him. She still remembered back in junior high, burning up with a high fever but forcing herself to show up for an important exam. She could barely focus but didn’t want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere, Marcus, already a senior high student at the time, stormed into her c
I’d been drowning in events these past few days, press conferences, interviews, and non-stop photo ops. It was exhausting. Every single one of them sapped a bit more of my energy like I was performing on autopilot. Thankfully, a short break was just around the corner. Tonight, I had something to look forward to. Hugo, my manager, invited me and Demetria to his birthday celebration at an exclusive night bar. I didn’t even hesitate to say yes. I’d been stuck alone in the penthouse almost every night, slowly being driven mad by the silence and the isolation. I needed this. A night out. A little taste of freedom while Demetri was still out of the country. I already knew he would never allow me to attend a party like this without him around. Oscar and Marshall didn’t put up a fight either. It helped that Demetria had already volunteered to explain everything to her oh-so-controlling brother. I turned my head toward the entrance and frowned slightly as more people poured in. The intima
I sat there, blankly staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, completely out of it. My phone buzzed again, Demetri was calling, for the third time this morning. I didn’t answer. Instead, I picked up my brush and began combing my hair. I had a press conference to attend later with the other Sandstorm talents, and just the thought of the questions the media might throw at me was already enough to rattle my nerves. I closed my eyes for a moment. Once again, my mind drifted back to that simple dream Marcus and I used to share... having a happy, big family. Seven kids. Crazy, right? On our fifth anniversary as a couple, he took me to this wide, open field full of sunflowers. We had a picnic there, and that’s where the talk about having a family began. Between the two of us, Marcus had always been the more excited one about having children. I could still feel the warmth of his smile as he spoke about our future, lying beside me under a bright, cloudless sky. It hurts—God, it still
When we finally arrived at the Sylvestre mansion, I immediately called Manang Lucelle and asked her to meet us outside the gate. She came out quickly, and the moment she saw my two bodyguards helping Marcus stand, she opened the gate for us. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to bring him here,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of disapproval. “You could’ve just called and had Don Demetrius’s driver pick him up.” “It’s too far,” I answered, meeting her eyes. “I didn’t want to risk any delay.” She gave me a small, knowing smile, then nodded politely. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked me. I shook my head in response, a small, silent gesture. “I’ll just wait here,” I said quietly. She didn’t say anything after that. She simply turned around and walked away, leaving me there alone. I stayed in the backseat, my hands resting quietly on my lap while I waited for Oscar and Marshall to come back. The mansion stood silently in front of us. Just as my eyes drifted toward t