The drug dealer’s house was tucked away in the farthest corner of a shadowy alley, a grimy and forgotten part of the city where the faint glow of streetlights barely reached. The building itself was a crumbling, decrepit structure, its once-white walls now stained with years of neglect and graffiti. The windows were dark, except for the flickering blue light of a television casting an eerie glow through the thin curtains. Arya stood just outside the door, her heart pounding in her chest, though her expression remained calm, almost disinterested. She was skimpily dressed, her tight dress clinging to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit was designed to catch the eye, to make her seem like just another woman looking for a quick score or a rough night. But underneath the flimsy exterior, Arya’s mind was sharp, her senses heightened as she waited for her moment. She leaned casually against the wall, her stiletto heels clicking softly against the cracked pavemen
“What could be the connection here?”, Ricardo asked. “The convent must be in on it. What if it’s this Order of the Seraphim? What if it’s like a secret society?”, Arya responded with more questions. “Isabel does have a vibe. It could be the whole town council is involved and so is their jurisdiction. But someone has to be pulling all the strings”, Leonardo said. “Manuel?”, Rob asked, joining them. “The priest?”, Arya asked. “Isabel?”, Ricardo asked. They turned to see the guy who Rob was beating up already unconscious. Arya gave him a hard stare but Leonardo and Ricardo were indifferent. “What? He asked for it”, he said with a shrug. “Now how do we question him?”, Arya asked. “We always figure something out”, Leonardo said. “And if he dies?”, she asked. “He won’t die”, Rob said. Arya gave him another hard stare. “We should leave now. We’ll take him and the tape with us”, Leonardo said, taking Arya’s hand and leading her outside. * * * * * * * * * * *
Leonardo straightened up, still gripping the hammer, his gaze shifting from José’s broken form to Ricardo. He could feel the tension in the room thickening as Ricardo’s eyes gleamed with sadistic anticipation. The sight of José’s suffering only seemed to fuel his excitement. “Ricardo,” Leonardo said with a tight voice, though he forced a smile. “You always have the worst timing.” Ricardo chuckled. “I disagree. I think I have impeccable timing. Just in time to witness the truth spilling out, right, José?” He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving the prisoner, who was trembling, barely holding himself together. José could only whimper in response, his body wracked with pain, his broken hand cradled against his chest. Leonardo’s patience was wearing thin. He needed to get to the bottom of this, alone. And while he wasn’t averse to using violence, he preferred it to be purposeful, not gratuitous. Unlike Rob or Ricardo. “José,” Ricardo said, gaining the man’s attention. “
“What do you mean I can’t get a meeting with him?” Lima’s voice was sharp, almost a snarl, as she hurled her glass at the mirror. The glass shattered on impact, fragments scattering across the floor like the pieces of her temper. She hadn’t lost control like this in a long time, but the Don was pushing her to the edge. Rupert stood beside her, tense but silent, carefully measuring his next move. He knew better than to speak when Lima was like this, aware that anything he said could set her off even more. “Try harder or I’ll show up with men and guns blazing”, she said and ended the call. Sighing, she ran her hands through her curly hair. “Get me another glass of wine, Rupert. And send in a maid to clean this mess up”, she said, referring to the broken glass and mirror. “Yes, mistress”, he said and stepped out. Lima caught a glimpse of herself in the shattered fragments of the mirror. The jagged edges reflected a distorted image, but the woman staring back at her was unmist
WARNING: THIS EPISODE CONTAINS CONTENT THAT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. Lima walked into Henry’s office, her dress revealing just enough to leave him wanting more. The sway in her hips and the confidence in her stride made it clear she was used to getting what she wanted. Henry’s eyes locked onto her, unable to tear them away. “Henry, how are you?” she asked, her voice smooth as she approached his desk. Henry’s gaze lingered on her, taking in every detail. “Lima, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” he replied, his voice barely hiding the hunger in his eyes. “Then do me a favor. Ask me to sit,” she said, her tone soft yet demanding, her eyes never leaving his. Henry swallowed hard, trying to regain some composure. “Please, have a seat, Lima. What can I do for you?” he asked, gesturing to the chair opposite him. “The Italian Don,” she started, cutting straight to the point as she gracefully sat down. “Why can’t I get a meeting with him?” Henry hesitated, choos
"So, do we all agree?" Arya asked, her gaze sweeping over the group, making sure they were all on the same page. They nodded in unison. "I'm so glad you invited me, Arya," Bianca said with a smile. "And I'm glad you came. It’s exhausting being the only mature person in a group of baby boys," Arya quipped, drawing amused looks from the men. Well, except for Leonardo, who was already looking at her with that familiar admiring gaze. “With that hot head of hers, it’s no wonder she’s adding a little extra masculinity to the group,” Rob remarked, not missing a beat as he took a jab at Bianca. Bianca didn’t flinch. Instead, she rolled her eyes and shot back, “That’s not what she said, and yes, I’ve got just the right amount of masculinity to walk you like a dog.” Her voice dripped with attitude. Ricardo’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. "I’m not gonna lie, she totally wiped the floor with you,” he said, throwing fuel on the fire just to rile Rob up a bit more.
Arya crouched down beside Lima, her expression more curious than concerned. “What happened to you?” she asked, her voice calm and probing. Lima’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused as if she were trying to escape the memory that haunted her. “It was Henry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He tried to… I had to get out of there.” Arya’s eyes narrowed, the name Henry triggering a faint but uneasy recognition. For Lima to be this shaken, something had gone horribly wrong. Ricardo’s jaw clenched, his voice steely. “Henry, the priest?” “Yes,” Lima responded, her breathing growing rapid as panic began to overtake her. Before the situation could spiral further, Bianca stepped in, her voice firm yet soothing. “She’s having a panic attack. I’ll handle it.” Kneeling beside Lima, Bianca gently guided her through the 5-4-3-2-1 method, her presence a calming force amidst the rising tension. Leonardo, ever vigilant, only relaxed his grip on his gun when he was certain Lima p
Arya’s eyes were sharp as daggers as she turned to Ricardo, her disbelief morphing into a cold fury. "What do you mean Henry is your father?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with venom. Ricardo met her gaze, his face devoid of emotion. “He’s my father. But it doesn’t change anything.” Leonardo's fists clenched at his sides, the tension in the room thickening with each passing second. "You conveniently left out the part about 'my father is a priest' and then asked me to kill him?" His voice was low, simmering with barely restrained anger. "Do you realize what you could have started? A religious movement? A war?" Ricardo’s jaw tightened. “I know,” he admitted, his voice steady, but there was a flicker of regret in his eyes. That flicker wasn’t enough to stop Arya. She moved quickly, her hand connecting with Ricardo’s face in a stinging slap. The sound echoed in the room, freezing everyone in place. “How dare you set us up?” she hissed, her eyes blazi
Isabel cradled the baby close, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as the infant’s soft cries filled the room. Her daughter. She traced the baby’s tiny features with trembling fingers—her button nose, her soft cheeks, and the tiniest fingers she had ever seen. A fierce protectiveness gripped her heart, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. But the moment of tenderness was fleeting. The cold, harsh reality of her situation came crashing down on her. She had no home, no job, and no way to provide for herself, let alone a newborn. The room reeked of decay and dampness, its peeling walls and rat-infested corners a far cry from the safe haven a child deserved. The baby’s cries grew louder, piercing through Isabel’s haze of despair. “Shh, shh, I’m here,” she whispered, rocking her gently. But the cries didn’t stop, and Isabel realized with a sinking feeling that the baby was hungry. She looked around the room, her heart racing. There was no milk, no clean water—nothing. Panic cla
Arya gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “You got impregnated by your mother’s boyfriend?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Isabel nodded solemnly. “I did. I did all I could as a pregnant teenager with no home. I wish I’d known about the convent back then—it would have made my life so much easier. With little to no source of income or support, I was miserable and alone in the trenches of this town after I had to leave the old one. I won’t bore you with all the details. But when I was in labor, I had to make some difficult decisions.” FLASHBACK Isabel sat in the corner of her dimly lit room, chewing on the last bit of food she’d managed to scavenge. Her stomach cramped painfully, but she wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or something worse. It had been four days since her last meal, and her body was weak, her limbs trembling with every small movement. The cramps intensified, radiating through her body, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She pressed her hands again
“By the time I turned sixteen, much had changed in my life, though little for the better. I was the scorn of the town, whispers trailing me wherever I went. It wasn’t just the shame of my past that followed me like a shadow; it was the doors that slammed shut in my face, the jobs that paid me barely half of what they should, the side-eyes from those who thought they knew my story. And then there was Mama’s boyfriend, Stanley, who moved into our already-cramped home.” FLASHBACK Isabel stumbled into the house after a long, grueling day of work. The sun had long since set, and her body ached with exhaustion. She immediately headed to the kitchen, her stomach growling in protest, but her heart sank when she found the pans empty. She had prepared the food earlier that morning before leaving, but as usual, there was nothing left for her. Not a scrap. Her younger siblings, Amanda and Jacob, had already gone out for their own work, leaving the house silent save for the faint rustling
Arya burst into the room, emotions swirling in a storm of frustration. Leonardo, shirtless and in sweatpants, lay on the bed with his laptop, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. When he looked up and saw her, his expression immediately softened. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Fuck! I’m so tired of all of this! When does it actually end?” Arya's voice was thick with anger and despair as she shouted, letting out everything she had bottled up inside. Leonardo remained quiet, letting her vent, and placed a gentle hand on her back for support, feeling the tension in her shoulders. “We can talk about it when you're ready,” he said quietly, his voice calm and steady. She took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Isabel said she’s my grandmother,” she blurted out. He froze, stunned by her revelation. It explained so much—Isabel’s secretive behavior, her willingness to help them even at great personal risk. “How do you fe
Arya walked into the Mayor’s office, her mind still swirling with thoughts of her time at the convent, which had ended permanently. Henry had called her the day before, insisting that someone come to the Townhouse to collect a certificate for her volunteer service. She had kindly turned him down, but Henry was insistent, not taking no for an answer. Arya found herself wondering where this sudden niceness was coming from. She didn’t trust a single soul in this town, not even after everything she’d done to protect herself, including running a secret background check on Ricardo—though he would never find out about that. “Ah, Dona, welcome to my office,” the Mayor greeted, his voice oozing charm as his secretary led her into the room. Across from him sat Isabel and one of the council members, Frederick. Arya couldn’t bring herself to look at Isabel, her gaze fixed firmly on Henry instead. “Thank you for having me,” Arya said, offering a smile that barely touched her lips. Henr
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s… it’s all too much, Leo. Everything. Isabel, the Sisterhood, my parents—I never even had the chance to mourn them, and now all of this…” He squeezed her hands, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels like the world is crumbling, but we’ll get through it. We always do.” She gave a bitter laugh, wiping away a tear. “You warned me about this life. You told me it would be hard, that it would come with pain and danger. And I thought I was ready. But now…” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression softening. “You are ready. You’re stronger than anyone I know. And you’re not alone.” She broke down into even harder sobs, and he just held her close, letting her cry against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and he whispered soothing words, his touch gentle and comforting. As her body shook with grief, he fought the urge to share what had happe
By the time they finished work, dusk had settled over the city, casting long shadows across the streets. “I need to get back to the cabin,” Leonardo said, gathering his things. “My wife’s there, and we’ll wrap things up once we’re back.” He knew Arya had gone to the convent earlier to confront Isabel, and although his instincts told him she was safe, a faint sense of urgency nagged at him. Working here, dealing with everything else, had given her space, but he couldn’t help wanting to check in on her. Behind him, Ricardo and Rob were in yet another argument, voices rising and falling as they debated. Leonardo had long since learned to tune them out. Instead, he let his thoughts wander. Spending most of his childhood alone, with only the company of books he’d memorized cover to cover, he’d become accustomed to living inside his mind, finding peace there. But something shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement, something or someone moving too delib
Leonardo walked into the room to find everyone already seated, waiting expectantly. He took his seat, and Rob slid a few files across the table. “These are all we could gather, boss. I double-checked—it’s everything they had,” Rob said, his tone firm. Leonardo picked up the files, scanning through them quickly. Setting them back down, he looked up, addressing the room. “Someone is playing a twisted game with my wife. She suspects it might be the Mother Superior, but I’m not convinced,” he began, his voice steely. Rob tensed beside him. Usually, they didn’t discuss these matters openly, especially with others around. But Rob must have trusted Leonardo’s judgment since he didn’t attempt to question it. “Of course, we don’t suspect any of you,” Leonardo added, glancing around the table. “We trust you all completely, especially after the support you’ve shown. And if we need further assistance, we’ll reach out.” He nodded at Ricardo, who took the cue. “You heard the Don. We
Arya could hardly believe Isabel’s audacity. Her voice trembled with anger as she glared at the Mother Superior. “Don’t sit there on your high horse, pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Isabel sighed, placing her reading glasses delicately on the table. “I get that you’re the wife of a very powerful man, a Don, but Arya, I don’t need to hear about the issues in your marriage. I have done nothing wrong, and I genuinely have no idea what you’re accusing me of.” Arya recoiled, taken aback by the indifference in Isabel’s tone. “What? Why would you say that?” “Why shouldn’t I?” Isabel responded sharply, her expression unreadable. Arya narrowed her eyes, studying Isabel's face. “No. Why would you assume this was about my marriage, Isabel? What makes you think that’s what I came here for?” Isabel raised an eyebrow, her mouth curling in a faint, mocking smile. “Oh, it’s not? Then I’m truly sorry for the misunderstanding. But tell me, Arya—what exactly are you accusi