Ethan Cross, an FBI agent, has been pursuing Dante Valensi, one of the nation's most influential and untouchable crime lords, for years. Dante has created an empire that law enforcement has never been able to destroy. He is cunning, ruthless, and feared by all. Ethan, however, is unique. He has been assigned the task of entering Dante's world as Luca Romano, moving up the ranks, and destroying him from within. It is almost impossible to get close to Dante. He doesn’t trust anyone and doesn’t allow anyone to be close to him, especially not romantically. However, in the role of Luca, Ethan excels at the game, gains Dante’s confidence, and becomes his right-hand man. He gets closer to his objective with each step. It becomes more difficult to keep in mind that this is only a mission every moment spent with Dante. Then everything changes one night. An overly persistent touch. The look says too much. A weakness that neither of them can undo. What little and dishonesty develops into something harmful that is unavoidable. It’s just part of the job, Ethan tells himself. Dante is an evil creature. that the worst thing he could ever do is fall in love with him. What occurs, though, when the lie begins to seem more plausible than reality? Ethan has to decide whether to finish his mission and bring down the man he was sent to destroy or to give in to the one person he was never supposed to love as secrets come to light, treachery looms, and blood is shed. Because there is only one way in with Dante Valenci. And no escape route.
Lihat lebih banyakThe MessageThe body arrived at sunrise.Luca was still asleep when Matteo called.Dante answered on the first ring.“You need to see this.”The weight in Matteo’s voice sent ice through Dante’s veins.Thirty minutes later, they were at the docks.A shipping container had been left open, the salty morning air carrying the scent of blood.Inside, a single chair sat in the middle of the steel room.And tied to it—The man who had tried to kill Luca.Except now, he was dead.His throat had been slit, his hands nailed to the armrests.Blood soaked the floor beneath him, dark and glistening in the dim light.Matteo handed Dante a note.No signature. No insignia. Just a single sentence.“You’re not untouchable, Romano.”Dante clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around the paper.Whoever had sent this wasn’t just making a move.They were declaring war.Luca Wakes to ChaosLuca knew something was wrong the second he opened his eyes.Dante was standing by the window, his phone to his ear, voi
A False Sense of PeaceFor the first time in days, the tension had eased.Dante had called an emergency meeting with the capos, leaving me at the penthouse with orders to stay put.I didn’t argue.I needed space.Time to breathe.To figure out if I was really as trapped as Dante made me feel.But the thing about power?It never lets you rest.The HitThe first sign something was wrong was the silence.Dante’s penthouse was never truly quiet. His men were always around, stationed near the entrances, patrolling the halls.But tonight, there was nothing.The hair on the back of my neck stood up.I set my drink down, my mind already cataloging escape routes, weapons, weaknesses.Then—The lights went out.I moved instantly.The gun Dante had given me was in my hand before I even had time to think.A second later, the glass balcony doors shattered.I ducked behind the couch, heart hammering, gun raised.A shadow moved through the darkness. Silent. Trained.Not a random thug.A professional
The world doesn’t stop after you take a life.That’s the first thing I learned.I had expected something to shift. Something to break.But the city kept moving. The sky didn’t darken. The ground didn’t split open beneath my feet.I had walked out of that warehouse with blood on my hands, and the world had kept going.And that was the part that scared me the most.The Weight of SilenceThe penthouse was quiet.Dante had left early, something about a meeting with the capos. He hadn’t said much before he left—just a lingering touch, a look that told me he knew I wasn’t okay.But he hadn’t asked.Dante never asked.And I never told him.I sat at the bar, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me.I had killed before. But this wasn’t like before.This time, I had done it for power.For a place at Dante’s side.For us.But was there even an us anymore?Or was I just a part of his empire now—another piece on the board?A Ghost in the MirrorI got up, walking into the bathroom.
The car ride was silent.Dante sat beside me in the backseat, one hand resting against the leather seat, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers. The faint glow of the ember cast shadows across his face.Outside, the city blurred past us—neon lights, dark streets, empty sidewalks.Everything felt too quiet.Too still.The scent of blood still clung to my skin, even after I’d wiped my hands clean. My shirt had specks of it, and the memory of Salvatore’s last breath still echoed in my mind.I had killed before. But this was different.This was power.This was becoming something I couldn’t walk away from.Dante exhaled smoke, his gaze fixed out the window. He hadn’t spoken since we left the warehouse.I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.Not yet.Not when my pulse was still pounding from the weight of everything that had just happened.The Penthouse: Only UsThe moment we stepped inside Dante’s penthouse, the world outside disappeared.The city was loud. The business was brutal. B
The Moment of DecisionSalvatore sat frozen in his chair.The weight of what was happening finally settling in.Dante stood beside me, silent. Waiting.This was my call.I could feel every set of eyes on me. Our men. His men. The people who had doubted me, underestimated me, assumed I was just Dante’s pretty little second-in-command.This was my chance to show them exactly who I was.Exactly what I was capable of.I exhaled slowly.Then, I turned to one of our men standing by the door.“Knife.”A blade was handed to me within seconds.Salvatore tensed.I turned the knife over in my palm, feeling the weight of it. Considering.Then, I looked at him.“You made a mistake,” I said calmly.He swallowed. “Luca—”I slammed the blade into his hand.The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone filled the room.Salvatore’s scream echoed.I twisted the knife slowly.“I’m not interested in your excuses.”The WarningBlood pooled on the table.Salvatore gasped, face pale.I leaned in, my voic
The CaptiveThe man was tied to the chair.Wrists bound, head slumped forward, breathing ragged.He wasn’t dead.Not yet.But he’d wish he was before we were done.Dante stood in front of him, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.There was no rush.Pain was always more effective when it took its time.“Wake him up,” Dante said.I stepped forward.My knuckles connected with his jaw. Hard.His head snapped to the side, a groan escaping his lips.Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Bleary. Bloodshot.And when he finally focused?He saw me.His expression flickered—surprise, then something darker.He wasn’t afraid of me.Not yet.But he would be.Who Sent the Hit?Dante crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees.“Let’s not waste time.”His voice was calm. Too calm.“Who ordered the hit?”The man exhaled sharply. A laugh—low, broken.“You think I’ll tell you?” His voice was hoarse.Dante smiled. Slow. Dangerous.“You will.”He stood, adjusting his cuffs, before looking
The First ShotI felt the bullet before I heard it.The air shifted—hot, fast.Then—glass exploded.“Down!”A hand slammed into my chest, shoving me back.I hit the floor hard, the scent of whiskey and smoke mixing with the sharp tang of gunpowder.The room was chaos.Shouts. Scraping chairs. The metallic click of guns being drawn.Another shot.I rolled, pressing against the floor, my heart hammering.Then—silence.Not the natural kind.The kind that was waiting.I looked up.Dante was standing.Gun drawn.Expression—murderous.“Find them,” he said, voice low. Lethal.Men scrambled.And me?I exhaled, pushing myself up. My pulse was a drumbeat in my throat.I had just been shot at.Me.Not Dante. Not one of his men.Me.And that meant one thing.Someone wanted to take me off the board.The Aftermath – Dante’s FuryThe house was locked down within minutes.Windows covered. Security doubled. Every man on high alert.But Dante?Dante wasn’t focused on defense.He was focused on revenge.
A Seat at the TableThe room was heavy with smoke and silence.A dozen men sat around the long marble table, their gazes sharp, assessing.At the head of the table—Dante.And beside him—me.The seat wasn’t just symbolic.It was a statement.I wasn’t just here as his.I was here as his second.The tension was thick. Not everyone in this room agreed with Dante’s choice.And some of them?Some of them were looking for any excuse to test me.Dante leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lazily against his glass of whiskey.Then, he spoke.“Luca handled last night’s attack,” he said, voice calm, casual. “Swiftly. Efficiently.”His gaze flicked across the room.“That tells me he’s ready for more.”Silence.Then—A man across the table scoffed.Nico. Mid-forties. Old-school. One of Dante’s longest-standing allies.And one of the few men who hadn’t fully accepted me yet.“Handled?” Nico mused, tilting his glass. “I heard he hesitated.”I felt Dante’s gaze flick toward me.But he didn’t say
A Warning That Comes Too LateThe night was still, the city stretching out below us, glittering with artificial light.Dante was on the phone, voice low, controlled.But I knew better.He was coiled.The kind of calm that only came before a storm.I leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching him.“Tell me what you need,” I said.He glanced at me, dark eyes unreadable.Then—he ended the call.“We have a problem,” he said.I pushed off the counter. “How bad?”Dante exhaled slowly.“Bad.”And that was when the first gunshot rang out.The AmbushGlass exploded as bullets tore through the penthouse windows.I hit the ground, rolling behind the couch as Dante moved—fast, efficient.Gun in hand, already firing back.The room erupted in chaos.The security team was already moving, but it wasn’t enough—whoever this was, they came prepared.“Stay down!” Dante barked, taking out another shooter.But I wasn’t fucking staying down.I grabbed the gun from the drawer, shoving a clip into place,
The world of crime is based on trust.And tonight, I was going to sell the biggest lie of my life.The club reverberated with deep bass, shaking the floor beneath my boots. Strobe lights flashed across bodies pressed together on the dance floor, drenched in sin and sweat. From the VIP lounge above, I had a perfect view of the chaos below—ideal for a king like Dante Valenci, who watches over his kingdom of crime.My target.As I stepped through security and into the lion's den, I adjusted the cuffs of my suit and maintained a cool expression. Luca Romano, the identity I would spent months creating, was ready to enter the mafia world.Six months prior."Cross, I want him in chains."The director's tone was cold as he slid a thick file across the table. I flipped it open, revealing photo after photo of Dante Valenci—mid-thirties, tall, fighter-like physique. Sharp Italian features, with black ink curling up his forearms. A man dressed in power. A man whose name instilled fear in every cr...
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