Mia’s POV
Life had always been simple. Predictable, even. Just me and my mom in our small apartment, surrounded by the familiar scent of her lavender candles and the comforting hum of her sewing machine. She worked tirelessly to keep us afloat, her delicate fingers stitching together our modest existence.
Then he appeared.
Ray Valisteen.
The first time I saw him, he was sitting at our kitchen table, a place far too humble for someone who looked like he belonged on the cover of a luxury magazine. His suit was sharp enough to cut through steel, his smile easy, almost disarming. But it was his eyes that struck me—dark, calculating, and cold.
I was only fourteen, but I wasn’t stupid. Men like him didn’t show up out of nowhere. He wasn’t here for a simple family dinner.
“Call me Ray,” he said, his voice smooth like melted chocolate. He leaned back in the rickety chair, completely at ease, as if the peeling wallpaper and chipped plates didn’t bother him. “Your mother has told me so much about you, Mia.”
I stayed silent, my instincts screaming at me to be cautious. Mom, however, was glowing. Her cheeks flushed as she fussed over the roast chicken on the table, smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
“Ray’s been such a blessing,” she said, setting the dish down with trembling hands. “He’s... helped us.”
Helped us? I frowned, staring at the man across from me. What kind of help could someone like him offer?
Over the next few months, I got my answer.
Ray wasn’t just rich—he was powerful. His influence stretched far beyond the luxurious black cars that began picking us up from our dingy neighborhood, far beyond the lavish dinners at restaurants where even the waiters looked at us like we didn’t belong. My mom’s sewing business transformed overnight. Suddenly, her designs were in high demand, and our bank account swelled with more money than I thought we’d ever see.
But there was always a catch.
“Stay close to me,” Ray would say whenever we stepped out of the house. His hand on my shoulder was firm, protective, but it felt like a leash. Men in suits began shadowing us everywhere we went. At first, I thought it was because of his wealth, but soon, I realized it was more than that. It was the danger that clung to him, invisible but ever-present.
I started to notice the way people looked at him—fear mixed with respect. Waiters rushed to serve him, businessmen stammered in his presence, and even police officers seemed to look the other way when he sped through traffic.
It was intoxicating and terrifying.
One night, as I sat in the backseat of his sleek black car, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Why do people act like that around you?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound confident.
Ray glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. “Because they know who I am.”
“And who are you?” I pressed, my fingers gripping the leather seat.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Someone who gets things done.”
That was the moment I realized my life would never be simple again.
---
When he married my mom a few weeks later, everything changed. I became "Mia Valisteen," the stepdaughter of a man whose name was whispered in hushed tones. We moved into a sprawling villa that overlooked the city, a place so grand it felt like stepping into another world.
At first, I tried to enjoy it—the fancy clothes, the private tutors, the endless parade of gifts. But the luxury came with strings attached. His world wasn’t just about wealth. It was about power. And enemies.
“Mia, don’t wander off,” Ray warned one afternoon as I explored the villa’s grounds. His voice carried an edge of urgency that made me stop in my tracks. “This isn’t the kind of life where you can afford to be careless.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was too afraid of the answer.
Deep down, I knew. This wasn’t just his world anymore. It was mine, too. A world of glitter and shadows, where nothing was ever as it seemed.
And I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.
As the Valisteen Princess, I had wealth, luxury, and influence. But with that came constant threats—Ray’s enemies, who seemed to be lurking around every corner. They never stopped coming after me, trying to use me as a pawn in their ruthless games.
But Victor—Ray’s consigliere—was my protector. He was unlike the others, calm, calculated, and always two steps ahead. I grew close to him over time. More than just a bodyguard, he became my mentor, guiding me through the treacherous world I had been thrust into.
His advice was always straightforward, his loyalty unquestionable. “Trust no one, Mia, not even the people closest to you,” he would say, his gravelly voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos.
And I listened.
Victor was my lifeline, and in a world where trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford, he was the only one I could rely on.
Not that I didn’t know how to defend myself or fight back—I did. Ray made sure of that. Combat training, escape drills, even lessons in negotiation; he insisted I be prepared for every situation. But I still found myself relying on Victor for almost everything.
Maybe it was his quiet confidence, the way he seemed unshaken even in the face of chaos. Or maybe it was the way he treated me like more than just the "Valisteen Princess." To him, I was still Mia, the girl who used to smell like lavender and fall asleep to the hum of her mom’s sewing machine.
In this world of glitter and shadows, Victor wasn’t just my protector. He
was my reminder of who I used to be—and maybe who I could still become.
Dylan’s POVThere was a time when my name carried weight—Dylan Griffin, son of the man who once stood as Ray Valisteen’s equal. Back then, power was our inheritance, influence our birthright. My father, Alexander Griffin, wasn’t just feared; he was respected. In every darkened corner of the city, his name echoed with reverence.I wanted to be just like him.As a kid, I followed him everywhere. Business meetings, late-night deals, even the dangerous ones he told me to stay away from. “Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut,” he’d say, his voice steady and commanding, like the crack of thunder.And I listened.I learned how to read people, how to spot lies beneath the surface of a polite smile. I saw how my father and Ray Valisteen ruled the city together, an unstoppable force that made even the most ambitious rivals think twice before crossing them.But power is a fragile thing. And trust? Even more so.The night everything fell apart is seared into my memory.I was seventeen, old eno
Mia's POVThe party was loud, extravagant, and suffocating—just as I’d expected. Purple and silver decorations sparkled under the soft glow of the chandelier, and every corner of the room was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and chatter about alliances and power plays. My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a celebration, but I felt like a showpiece, trapped in a world I didn’t ask to be a part of.It was easier to fake a smile than explain how much I wanted to leave despite it being my eighteenth birthday party. Jess was rambling about some minor drama, but I could barely focus on her words. The weight of the crowd pressed down on me, and I needed air.“Excuse me,” I muttered, cutting Jess off mid-sentence. Without waiting for her reply, I slipped through the sea of people, heading for the balcony.The night air hit me like a cool balm. I leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights that glittered like stars in the distance. For a moment, it felt like I could
Mia's POV.I let out another groan, my head pounding like a war drum. My arms felt like lead, and my throat was dry enough to crack. I shifted on the cold, hard floor, realizing I couldn't move my wrists—zip-ties. The bite of the plastic around my skin made me grit my teeth as memories of the night slammed into me.Dylan Griffin.The son of the man Ray killed. The charming bastard had drugged my drink and dragged me into this mess."Shit," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to sit up. The room was barely lit, the flickering bulb above casting more shadows than light. My eyes darted around, taking in the stark, empty space—four walls, no windows, and a single steel door.“How do I get out of here?” I whispered to myself, flexing my wrists against the restraints. The pain grounded me, and I welcomed it. I needed to focus, not panic.Footsteps echoed outside, sharp and deliberate. The heavy door creaked open, and Dylan stepped in.“Awake already?” he mused, his lips curling into
Mia's POV. Italy smelled like freedom and fresh espresso. It was a stark contrast to the suffocating opulence of my past life. Here, I wasn’t the Valisteen Princess; I was just Mia. No bodyguards trailing my every move, no constant threats looming over my head. Or at least, that’s what I wanted to believe.But danger had a way of finding me. That bitch.It's been three weeks since I escaped the chaos Dylan Griffin left behind with the help of Victor, who I told to go back to Ray. I kept my head down, moving from town to town, never staying anywhere long enough to be noticed. The quiet anonymity was comforting at first, but I couldn’t ignore the itch in the back of my mind—the urge to reclaim what had been stolen from me.I had just stepped out of a cafe in Florence when the first shot rang out. Instinct kicked in before I even registered what was happening. I dove behind a parked Vespa, my heart pounding as bullets sprayed across the cobblestone street. Tourists screamed and scattere
Mia's POV. “Wow, I can't believe we built this in just four years," Mimi said, walking towards the balcony of my office. The doors were made of glass, bulletproof glass. It's been four years since I escaped from Dylan Griffith. Mimi, and built my own empire with the help of Mimi and Victor. A sigh escaped my lips. This is the sixth time she has been repeating the same words; now I can recite it without missing a word. “Mimi, what do you want?" I asked, pushing my laptop to the side. I lean forward, place both my elbows on my table, my hands facing down as I rest my head on them, looking up at her like an injured puppy. Well, I wasn't physically injured, but mentally, I was with her constant blabbing that never seemed to end as soon as she walked in thirty minutes ago. “What do you want?" I ask again. She turned to look at me with a surprised look that obviously was fake, one arm crossed on her chest and the other pointing to herself. “Me?" “No, I was talking to the handsome ghost
Mia's POVI smirked faintly. “Something like that. Someone has to keep a clear head around here.”He tilted his glass toward me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you actually dancing. A rare sight.”“Don’t get used to it,” I said, but there was no bite to my words.Victor chuckled lightly, his gaze scanning the room. His sharp eyes lingered on each corner as if he were silently calculating exit routes and assessing threats even in the middle of a celebration.“You know,” he said after a pause, “it’s moments like this that remind me why we do what we do. These people—your people—look at you like you’re invincible. Like you’ve given them something no one else could.”I stared into my glass, swirling the amber liquid. “And what’s that?”“Hope,” he said simply.I didn’t reply, the weight of his words settling heavily on me. Hope. It wasn’t something I’d set out to give anyone, but somehow, it had become part of what I represented.The moment was interrupted by Mimi, who came bounding over wit
Dylan's POV. The echo of my footsteps was the only sound in the dimly lit corridor as I led the newcomer deeper into the clan's dungeon. The air was damp and thick with the metallic scent of blood, mixed with that faint hum of the fear that lingered like a permanent resident. The walls, lined with chains and archaic iron tools, bore the weight of history only whispered about. “This…" I said, my voice low and calculated, " is where we remind people of the consequences of betrayal.” my words were calm but the undertone carried the sharp edge of a knife. The man nodded rapidly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His bravado from earlier had melted away the moment we descended those stairs. The dungeon had that effect—it stripped away masks, leaving people with nothing but their raw, trembling truths.Liam, my ever-annoying second-in-command, leaned against the rusted iron bars of one of the cells, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. “Really laying it on thick today, aren’
Dylan's POV. The private jet landed smoothly on the tarmac in Florence, Italy, the hum of its engines fading into the quiet night. This mission was critical—an opportunity to secure a deal that would expand our influence into Europe. A dangerous cartel had been encroaching on our territory, and tonight’s meeting was to remind them why crossing me was a mistake.Usually, I do this alone and not risk the lives of my clan members so recklessly, but they insisted, and I need them to be there in case shit goes sideways.“Ah, Italy,” Liam said, stepping out onto the runway with a dramatic stretch. “The land of wine, romance, and fucking crime. Think we’ll have time for sightseeing?”“Focus, you dickhead,” I muttered, scanning the surroundings. “This isn’t a vacation. After the mission, you can stick whatever is under your pants into whatever pussy you want.” “Harsh," he cries mockingly. “ But just thinking about it is making me a little excited." “Keep it in your pants.” I muttered not wa
Chapter 90 – Ghost Signal 2.Mia’s POVThe tires crunched against the gravel, loud in the otherwise deafening silence that filled the car. As the estate’s main entrance loomed before us, glowing faintly under the dim porch lights, the engine gave a soft sputter before Dylan brought the car to a stop.Before it even fully parked, I shoved the door open and stepped out.Cold air slapped my face, rustling strands of hair across my cheeks, but I didn’t react. My boots hit the ground with purpose—measured, unshaken. I didn’t wait for anyone. Not Dylan. Not the others.My hands were still. My breathing was level.And my face—stone.No grief. No rage. No tears.Only silence.Behind me, Dylan opened the back door with the kind of reverence that belongs to sacred things. He moved with slow, calculated care, like each gesture carried a weight he wasn’t allowed to fumble. And then he emerged, holding Mimi in his arms.Her body.Blood had dried on her skin and soaked into her clothes. Her curls,
Chapter 89: Ghost Signal(Mia’s POV)It started with a whisper. A feeling. Like something wasn’t right.The estate was quiet—too quiet. Victor had gone radio silent again, eyes always on the window, as if expecting someone to break through it. Alison kept herself busy, but I could feel her watching me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Everyone had their routines, their coping mechanisms.Except Mimi.She hadn’t shown up for breakfast. Or lunch. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday.I asked around.“Maybe she’s training again,” one of the guards said with a shrug.But someone else—one of the newer recruits—looked nervous. “I saw her,” he said quietly. “This morning. Thought I was imagining it. She was heading toward the north wall… looked like she was in a hurry.”A hurry?No one else saw her. Everyone was equally busy.Panic started to claw at my chest.I ran back to my room and grabbed my phone, praying she'd just gone on a walk and forgotten to text back. But there was nothing. No new
Chapter 87: Fractured LinesThe Betrayal(Mimi’s POV)Days passed in a haze after we returned to the estate.The bruises faded, but the weight didn’t. Victor was quiet—dangerously quiet—and Mia hadn’t left his side, except for the occasional walks to clear her head. Alison stayed alert, tense, as though expecting something to go wrong again. Me? I threw myself into training, cleaning, anything that could distract me from the feeling that we had failed.Then I got the message.MIA: “Need to talk. Alone. Same spot as before—urgent.”I didn’t hesitate.We hadn’t spoken since that night. Not properly. I figured she needed space, but the sudden text felt like a shift—like maybe she was ready. And I was desperate to fix the cracks between us. I didn’t even stop to wonder why she wanted to meet alone, or why she sounded so... unlike herself.I slipped out past midnight, using the gaps in the estate’s new patrol routes. The wind bit at my skin, and the forest whispered warnings I chose to ign
Chapter 87: Fractured Lines### Part I – My Descent (Mia’s POV)I remember the cold bite of the night air as we slipped out from behind the high walls of Dylan’s clan estate. I, Mimi, and Alison had long shared a rebellious streak, but tonight—tonight it felt different. There was an intensity in our hearts, a mix of defiance and dread. We’d disobeyed orders once more, driven by the desperate hope of finding Victor before something irreparable happened to him. I clutched my side, not from pain but because my pulse roared in my ears as we crept through the labyrinth of back alleys.The moon was a thin crescent in the sky, and its pallid light barely touched the ground. “We shouldn’t be this far out,” Alison whispered, her eyes darting around in the darkness as though expecting danger at every turn. I couldn’t help but agree. But every step was driven by the memory of Victor’s last call—a single, cryptic text that hinted something was very, very wrong.Following a series of hastily scraw
Chapter 86: Disappeared I tapped my fingers against the edge of the table, my gaze flicking toward the door for what had to be the tenth time that morning. The estate was unusually quiet—not that it was ever particularly loud—but something felt... off. It had been nagging at me all day, a persistent itch at the back of my mind.Mimi sat across from me, idly spinning a ring around her finger. She hadn’t said much, which was unusual. Normally, she had something to complain about, something to gossip about, or some ridiculous scheme to rope me into. Today, though, she was just as distracted as I was.I finally voiced what had been bothering me. “Hey… have you seen Victor lately?”Mimi stopped playing with her ring and frowned. “Now that you mention it… no. Not in a while.”A small crease formed between my brows. “Yeah. Me neither. I thought maybe I was just missing him, but it’s been—what? A week?”“At least.” Mimi sat up straighter, her gaze sharpening. “Victor doesn’t just disappear.
Chapter 85: The Truth Beneath the SurfaceMimi finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I had no idea.” She met my gaze, something like guilt flickering in her usually confident eyes. “About your father, I mean. My father’s group… they destroyed a lot of lives. But I never knew yours was one of them.”I studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s not like you had anything to do with it, you were just a toddlar like I was.”She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.Dylan tilted his head slightly. “So? Now that you know, what are you going to do with it?”I thought about that. About Ray, about my mom, about how knowing the truth didn’t change much—but at the same time, it changed everything.Then, I smirked.“Nothing,” I said easily. “Just thought you two should know.”Dylan let out a quiet chuckle. “Typical.”I stretched, letting the weight of the conversation settle. And then, because I couldn’t resist, I added, “Though, there is one thing.”Mimi raised a brow. “What?”I grinned, m
Chapter 84: The Truth Beneath the SurfaceI checked my phone for the third time, pressing the call button and holding it close to my ear. The silence in my room was absolute, the soft hum of the city beyond my window the only background noise. No static, no strange interruptions.No one was listening.I took a deep breath and dialed.The call barely rang twice before my mother picked up."Mia?"Her voice was the same as always—warm, steady, familiar. It made me think of childhood memories filled with home-cooked meals and gentle lullabies. But there was also something else now, an underlying concern."Yeah, Mom. It's me," I said, settling onto my bed, pressing my back against the headboard."Is everything alright?"I hesitated. How was I even supposed to start this conversation? But I needed answers, and she was the only one who could give them to me."Yeah, I just… I wanted to ask you something."A pause. "What is it?"I swallowed, glancing at my locked bedroom door as if expecting s
Chapter 83: The Dawn Before the StormThe morning arrived quietly, as if it were the soft prelude to an overture that had yet to unfold. In the dim light of early day, I found myself awake in a solitude that felt almost sacred —a pause before the crescendo of events that would later alter the course of my night. Every minute of that morning carried a sense of both anticipation and introspection, a tender space where memories of yesterday blended with the elusive promise of what was to come.I lay in bed, cocooned in the faded linens that had borne witness to many restless nights, and listened to the gentle hum of the city beginning to stir. Outside, the first hints of daylight crept over the horizon, casting long, gentle shadows across the worn wooden floorboards. The quiet was profound, filled with the unspoken possibilities that only early morning can hold. It was a time when the world seemed to be holding its breath, awaiting a signal to burst into life.As I slowly sat up, the
Chapter 82: Crossing the Line I needed air.The party was loud—too loud. The mingling of voices, the clinking of glasses, the occasional bursts of laughter—it was all starting to press in on me.Or maybe… maybe it wasn’t the party at all.Maybe it was the way Dylan had been looking at me all night.I’d felt it the moment I walked in. That flicker of something unspoken, something sharp. It wasn’t the usual annoyance or rivalry that colored our interactions. This was different.And it was driving me insane.I needed space.I turned to slip out of the room, but before I could take more than a few steps, a familiar voice stopped me."Leaving already?"I froze. I knew that voice.Dylan.I turned, finding him standing just behind me, drink in hand, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—they were intense, locked onto me like they saw right through every excuse I was about to make.I lifted a brow. “Just getting some air.”He tilted his head slightly, like he didn’t quite believe me. “Mind