All Chapters of Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Games : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I don't usually get rattled over shit. But when five sets of eyes, dark and menacing, locked onto me like I was their next project, it took everything not to let them see my nerves. “The FBI?” I repeated, leaning back like I’d misheard. My mind was already running a mile a minute. “You seriously want me to hack the FBI?” I wasn’t looking for an answer. I knew they meant every word. But I needed to stall, just for a second, to wrap my head around the insanity of their demand. I glanced from face to face before glaring at Alessandro, "You do realize they have encryption that takes years to crack and surveillance on a scale you wouldn't believe." But the silence in the room was thick—no one even blinked. They expected me to do it. I raised an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh, "We’re talking federal heat, not your everyday gangster rivals. You want me to walk into a minefield, and you're telling me to bring a lighter?" "It's not that big of a deal," Scott said c

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I don’t usually feel like this—this mix of exhilaration and satisfaction. That rare sense of being fulfilled. Sure, I love what I do, but today... today was different. Working in that office with Alessandro, everything felt right in the most unsettling way. Like that’s exactly where I was meant to be, and I couldn’t tell if it was fate or something much darker pulling the strings. Being around him, it’s like walking a tightrope between fascination and annoyance. Alessandro thrives on pressure, on failure. And I knew, without a doubt, that if I made even the smallest misstep, if I missed a detail so minor it could slip past anyone else, he’d see it as an unforgivable failure. It’s unsettling, this need he has for perfection, like he’s always daring you to trip up, and I can’t tell if I should be repulsed or flattered that he holds me to such a high standard. Flattered? No. Repulsed, definitely. He repulses me because he knows how to get under my skin without lif

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck—or maybe run over by one, dragged along the asphalt, then hit again for good measure. Every muscle in my body ached, a deep, satisfying soreness that radiated from my thighs all the way to my shoulders. I didn’t need a mirror to know there were probably bruises blooming across my skin like some messed-up form of art. The burn between my legs was the most potent reminder of last night. Ghost had taken me apart piece by piece, left me raw in the best, most brutal way. But as my eyes fluttered open, the confusion set in. My room? How the hell did I get back here? I shifted under the sheets, realizing I was completely naked, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of Ghost's rough touch. The sheets clung to my skin, sticky with sweat, and the faint scent of him still hung in the air like a ghostly reminder. I scanned the room, my brain piecing together fragments of the night. I remembered his hands on me, the weight

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ I didn’t let go of her hand the entire ride. Viviane’s grip was tight, her knuckles white, fingers trembling against mine. She was hanging by a thread, and I wasn’t about to let that snap. I kept my eyes forward, mind focused on what had to be done, but every once in a while, I glanced at her—pale, eyes wide with fear, breaths still too shallow. She was on the edge, and seeing her like that, it… bothered me. The streets blurred past the window as I pushed the car to its limits. Every few seconds, Viviane’s phone would buzz again, but she ignored it. Her focus was on the fire. On her niece. And I couldn’t blame her. The image of that kid, trapped inside a burning building, was enough to make even me uneasy. I slowed the car down as we approached the scene. My jaw clenched when I saw the flashing lights. Red and blue reflected off the windows of the neighboring buildings. Fire trucks were lined up on the street, hoses snaking out toward the burning apartment c

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I’m not the type to fall apart easily, not over the small stuff anyway. I’ve learned how to keep it together, to stay composed. But sometimes—sometimes things hit you out of nowhere, like a punch you didn’t see coming. Like Felicity’s tears. Her health. Her fragile, precious life hanging in the balance. It’s a different kind of fear, the kind that claws at you from the inside, not loud but constant. It’s like walking a tightrope, knowing one wrong step could send everything crashing down. I can handle the stress, the uncertainty—but watching her struggle? That’s something that breaks me in ways I didn’t know I could break. What I never expected, though, was how it felt to have someone else step in. To have someone stand up for me, protect me—even when I didn't ask for it. Especially when it's against my own family. It’s strange, the way it shakes you. You spend so long being the one who’s strong, the one who holds it all together, and suddenly someone else is t