The first thing I noticed was the weight pinning me to the bed, as if my body had forgotten how to move or too weak to move. My eyelids fluttered, heavy and blurry, until a sliver of light broke through the darkness. A steady beep pulsed in the background, soft but insistent, tugging me back to reality. My senses sharpened, I'm in a hospital, I felt a firm, gentle pressure on my stomach. firm hands.I turned my head, the motion slow and sluggish, and there he was. Damon. Sitting beside me, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, his presence filling the dim hospital room like he owned it. His hands rested on my stomach, steady and warm, and a sweet sensation fluttered through me—butterflies, wild and unexpected, dancing beneath his touch. It was a feeling so alive it almost drowned out the dull ache radiating from the wound beneath his fingers.Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His gaze was piercing, blue and endless, pulling me in. But then—somethi
Scarlett Manzoni, Mario's sister, stood tall behind her desk, her thick frame exuding authority in the well lit office. Her vicious blue eyes bore into Bob, Anna’s father, as she turned to face him. At forty-five, she retained a striking beauty, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, a defiance against time. With Mario dead, she was next in line to lead the Manzoni clan, and she carried the weight of that responsibility with a powerful resolve."I strongly believe Damon is behind my brother’s death," she said, her voice steady and cold. "What do you think, Bob?"Bob shifted uneasily in his chair, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. A man of average build, his graying hair and worry-lined face. "I don’t think Damon did it," he replied, his voice faltering slightly. "He has an alibi."Scarlett’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening like a blade. "Are you saying this to protect your daughter?" she pressed, suspicion lacing her tone. "Are you picking your daughter over me?"Fear
Damon stood alone in the big compound of his mansion, the night air cool against his bare torso, dressed only in trousers, his shirt abandoned somewhere in the heat of his torment.Before him stood a magnificent golden lion statue, its jaws parted to release springs of water that splashed into a marble basin below. The constant flow shimmered under the moonlight, a wide contrast to the emptiness that gripped his heart.His eyes, filled with tears that refused to fall, were fixed on the statue, though his thoughts were elsewhere—lost in memories of Anna, in the promises he’d made, in the hollow ache of her death The sound of footsteps broke through his internal agonies, soft but steady, approaching from behind. He turned his head just enough to see Ghost, his sister, stepping into the faint glow cast by the mansion’s lanterns.“I’m sorry about Anna,” Ghost said, her voice thick with sympathy.Damon didn’t respond. His jaw tightened, and he turned his gaze back to the lion, unwilling
A man in his early fifties stood at the imposing iron gates of Damon's mansion. His coat was slightly rumpled, and his hands fidgeted with the strap of a leather bag slung over his shoulder. Two security guards approached, their broad frames and stern expressions signaling that no one entered unvetted."Hands up," one of them ordered gruffly, his voice cutting through the stillness. The other guard stepped forward, patting down the visitor with practiced efficiency, searching for any trace of a weapon. Finding none, he nodded to his partner."He's clean," the second guard muttered.The first guard fixed the man with a hard stare. "Who are you?""I'm Doctor Francis," the man replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of nerves. "I'm here to see Mr. Damon."The head of security, a towering figure with a scar running across his jaw, stepped closer. "Damon’s not around," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "But his sister might want to hear you out." He tur
The uninhabited forest of La Mosquitia in Mexico stretched out beneath a hot midday sun. The air hung thick with humidity, carrying the faint swamp of insects and the occasional cry of birds. High above the dense forest, a mercenary lay flat on his belly on top of a rugged mountain, his body pressed against the warm, hard rock. His eyes were locked on a pair of binoculars, scanning the horizon. He was the lookout, tasked with a single, pivotal role in the ambush about to unfold below.His face, toughened by years of mercenary living, reflected no emotion as he adjusted the binoculars. A deep voice had spoken through the walkie-talkie earlier, barking orders that still played in his mind: “Watch out for any sign of a Gulfstream G-159, a chopper. Target is Damon. Alert the others when you sight him. Do you copy?” “Yes, boss, I copy,” he’d replied, “No sign of any chopper yet. I’ll keep watching.” That had been over an hour ago. Now, as sweat formed on his forehead like morning de
The helicopter descended into a small clearing nestled deep within the Mexican tropical forest, its rotor blades chopping through the thick, humid air. The sound was a relentless whump-whump, sending gusts of wind that bowed the towering pines and scattered dry leaves in swirling patterns across the ground. A semicircle of mercenaries stood waiting. Six men, hardened by years of conflict, gripped their rifles with steady hands, barrels pointed slightly downward but ready to snap up at a moment’s notice. Dust kicked up by the chopper’s landing swirled around their boots as it settled with a soft jolt, the skids sinking slightly into the earth. No one seemed to come out from the helicopter. The mercenaries shifted uneasily, exchanging quick, wordless glances. Their leader, a burly man known simply as the boss, stepped forward. His scarred forehead twitched faintly as he squinted at the chopper’s dark windows. His heavy boots crunched against the dry ground, each step deliberate, h
Tiger sat alone in the hospital’s technical office, his eyes fixed on the flickering CCTV footage displayed on the monitor before him. The small room felt cramped, packed with humming computers and cables that spilled across the desk. He’d been at it for hours, watching an endless stream of doctors and nurses passing through the hospital’s hallways on the big screen. A yawn escaped his lips as boredom settled in. Most of the faces were unfamiliar but expected—medical staff going about their routines. The only exception was Damon, who had stormed through earlier. Other than that, nothing seemed out of place.Still, Tiger wasn’t convinced. Anna’s death gnawed at him, and he needed answers. Pushing back from the desk, he stood and crossed the room to the door. He opened it and leaned out into the hallway. “Doctor,” he called.Moments later, the doctor who had first brought him into the technical office appeared, his white coat slightly wrinkled. “Yes?” he asked, stepping closer.Ti
Under a full moon, the forest stretched cold and silent, save for the distant howls of wolves and faint, eerie laughter that drifted through the trees. Damon pressed forward along a narrow path, Anna’s limp body slung across his shoulders. His red Lycan eyes glowed fierce in the dark, cutting through the shadows like a blade. Tall trees towered above, their thick branches choking out the moonlight, leaving only slivers to speckle the ground.Wild animals lurked nearby, drawn by the scent of Anna’s death. A wolf pack edged closer, their eyes glinting with hunger, until Damon let out a deep, rumbling growl. They bolted, tails low, and even the bolder creatures—bears, foxes—slunk back into the undergrowth. But as he reached a small clearing, Damon slowed. Ahead stood a threat no growl would scatter.Three werewolves blocked his way, their blue eyes glowing bright and unyielding. Guardians of the territory, they bristled with tension, claws flexing. Damon didn’t hesitate. He strode to
Damon's POV I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under the fact that I'd almost cheated on Anna, what is left is just to penetrate Rose, but I couldn't do it.I was still battling my lust for Rose and love for Anna when Rose’s voice cuts through the haze of my thoughts. "I want you to fuck me, Damon," she says, her tone bold and unapologetic. Her hands were on me before I can process it, trailing down my chest, fingers brushing the waistband of my pants with a purpose that sends a jolt through me. "I want to feel your dick right inside me."A groan rumbles out of me, because damn it, she’s not wrong—I’m tempted, she's hot. The heat of her touch sears through the fabric, and for a split second, I can picture it: giving in, letting her pull me under, drowning out the mess in my head with something deep. But that’s the problem—it’s too real, too messy, and I’ve spent years building walls to keep messes like this out. "I can’t, Rose," I say, my voice rougher tha
Rose took steps toward him, the she stopped just short of touching him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath, smell that spicy perfume that always seemed to linger around her. “I want you, Damon,” she said, her gaze locking onto his, unflinching. “I want you all to myself. No one’s ever shown me what it means to be cared for like you have.”Damon’s chest tightened, her words hitting him like a punch. He’d pulled her out of a dark place years ago, given her a new life, but this—this was something else. His mind flickered with memories of her gratitude, her loyalty, but now it twisted into something deeper, something he wasn’t sure he could handle. He chuckled, the sound rough and tinged with disbelief. “You’re serious?”Her eyes flared, a spark of frustration cutting through the longing. “I killed the Manzoni Queen for you, Damon,” she said, her voice steady despite the weight of her confession. “I took out Scarlett, climbed to the top of this clan, and all I’m a
Damon rolled up to the Manzoni mansion alone, his sleek black car humming to a stop in front of the iron gates. He stepped out, smoothing his black jacket—his favorite color, always had been—and took a deep breath. No backup, no crew, just him. He didn’t want this new Donna, whoever she was, thinking he was scared or uneasy. Showing up solo was a power move, a way to say he wasn’t rattled, even if his gut told him this could go sideways fast. Scarlett Manzoni’s death had hit him like a curveball—he hadn’t seen that coming, and now he couldn’t stop wondering how she’d gone down.The security guys at the gate gave him the side-eye, a mix of suspicion and nerves flickering in their stares. They’d heard the stories—Damon Lockwood, the ruthless Don of the Lockwood Clan, a name that carried weight and a shiver down the spine. But seeing him in the flesh? That was new. He caught a couple of them whispering, their hands twitching near their guns, like they weren’t sure if they should bow
Rose POV I sat alone, my fingers tracing the edge of a crystal glass, the amber liquid inside untouched. My reflection stared back at me from the polished surface of the desk—a woman with sharp green eyes and red hair spilling over her shoulders, a far cry from the broken girl I’d once been. I’d come a long way from the orphanage, from the life that had tried to crush me. But even now, with all this power at my fingertips, there was an emptiness gnawing at me, a void I couldn’t fill.I didn’t know where I came from. No mother, no father—just a crib in a gray-walled room, surrounded by other forgotten kids. The nuns at St. Patrick’s Home for Lost Souls had been kind enough, but they couldn’t give me answers. My earliest memories were of cold floors and whispered prayers, of wondering why no one came for me. As I got older, I begged for clues—anything to tell me who I was. I’d had my DNA tested more times than I could count, scraping together every pen
Anna's POVThen instinct kicked in, and I jerked back, stumbling a step away. “Bonnie, what the hell?” I gasped, my voice shaking, my lips still tingling from her touch.She didn’t answer, just stared at me with those deep, unreadable eyes, her chest rising and falling fast. Then, without a word, she turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her. I stood there, my heart hammering against my ribs, my thoughts a tangled mess. What had just happened? Why would she—?And then it hit me, a slow, shattering clarity. The way she’d held me, the protectiveness in her voice, the way her eyes lingered on me too long—it wasn’t just friendship. Bonnie was in love with me. She’d been in love with me this whole time, and I’d been too blind to see it. Now she was leaving, walking out of my life without explanation, leaving me with the weight of her kiss and the chaos of my own feelings.My legs gave out, and I sank onto the edge of my bed, my hands trembli
Anna's POVThe framed picture of Ghost stared back at me from Damon’s desk, I could see the striking resemblance between them, especially the piercing eyes. I’d come looking for him, but he wasn’t here. The room felt hollow without him. I lingered anyway, unable to leave, drawn in by the faint scent of him that clung to everything. My fingers brushed the edge of Ghost’s frame, a restless energy humming through me as I wandered deeper into the space.This wasn’t how I’d pictured things since we got back from Mexico. I’d imagined us wrapped up in each other, a blur of tangled sheets and breathless nights, orgasm after orgasm until the world outside didn’t matter. Instead, there was this gap between us, a distance I couldn’t bridge no matter how much I wanted to. I sank into the chair at his desk, the leather creaking under my weight, and let out a shaky breath. My body felt alive in a way it never had before, a constant drum of sexual need pulsing through
Damon's POVThe rooftop of the mansion was my last refuge, a place where the chaos of the world below couldn’t quite reach me. The night was cold, the air sharp with the scent of distant rain. I stood near the edge, hands gripping the iron railing, staring into the void. My room had felt too small tonight, its walls closing in with every unanswered question, every festering doubt. Up here, at least, I could breathe—even if every breath tasted like fear.I’d never been in this position before. Me, Damon, the guy who always had a plan, always knew the next move. Now? I was teetering on the edge of something I couldn’t name, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive. The Manzoni Clan lingered in my thoughts like a shadow I couldn’t shake. They had to be behind this—the deaths, the chaos, the unraveling of everything I’d built. But who was their mole? Someone close, someone I’d let into my circle. The betrayal gnawed at me, a dull ache tha
Anna's POVThe mansion stood tall ahead of us as the car slowed to a stop, the tires crunched against the gravel driveway, a sound that grated against my already disturbed nerves. Damon’s hand was warm in mine, his fingers laced tightly with my own, but there was something off—something I couldn’t ignore. Even though we were touching, he felt distant, detached, like a wall had sprung up between us. His jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed straight ahead, avoiding mine. I squeezed his hand, hoping for some reassurance, but he didn’t respond. He was here with me, physically, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.We stepped out of the car, and the cool evening air hit me like a slap, sharpening my senses. The mansion’s heavy wooden doors swung open as we approached, revealing a group of Damon’s men waiting inside. Their faces were etched with determination, and the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. I clung to Damon’s hand a little tighter,
Anna's POVMy hand pressed harder against my mouth, muffling the gasp that tore out of me. The room tilted, the edges blurring as my knees wobbled beneath me. Damon’s men stood there, their pale faces carved from stone, waiting for me to say something, do something. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Ghost—Damon’s sister, the one he’d spoken of with that quiet reverence—was gone. Murdered. And Damon… where the hell was he?“Where did he go?” My voice came out sharp, cracking at the edges as I lowered my hand. My fingers trembled, and I clenched them into fists to hide it.The taller man—the one with the buzz cut—shifted his weight, his jaw tight. “We don’t know. He got the message, went silent, then grabbed his keys and left. Told us to get you to the mansion before he drove off.”“When?” I demanded, stepping closer. “When did this happen?”“About an hour ago,” he said, his eyes flicking away from mine, like he couldn’t stand the weight of my stare.An ho