Semua Bab Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ "What did he mean, Brandon?" My voice came out sharper than I intended as I followed him into my apartment, slamming the door behind me. He didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn around to look at me or acknowledge me. He just kept walking, tension rolling off his body. I stalked after him, grabbed his shoulder, and forced him to face me. “Brandon!” His eyes were cold when he finally faced me, “If you think I regret it, you’re wrong,” his voice was stern, harsh, “I’d do it again. A hundred times over.” I stared at him, my pulse pounding. “Regret what? Do what?” “Putting my family first. Putting you first,” he snapped, “I did what every real man would do, I made sure my sister was safe, healthy, alive. And if that meant telling him to walk away, then so be it.” The words hit like a slap, "Walk away?" I blinked rapidly, trying to process, my mind scrambling for something, anything that would make sense of what I was hearing. Eight months. Eight months of silence, of ac

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “I want you to break up with Logan, Viviane.” She froze, her eyes snapping to mine, a deep frown pulling at her lips. “What the hell did you just say?” I stepped further into her office, my eyes trailing over the clean, organized space. Everything in its place, just like her. She looked so satisfied with her life now—probably because she was the one in charge. She hated being told what to do, whether it was by the FBI… or me. And that just made me want to bend her to my will even more. But standing here, in the middle of her domain, with that fire burning in her eyes...I liked her more in here. Loved her more in here. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to make her lose that control, make her crawl to me, shatter that sense of bossiness until she was breathless and mine. “You heard me, Freckles,” I murmured, as I walked toward her desk. “I don’t give a fuck what you think you have with him. End it. We both know it isn’t real,” I tilted m

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ His tongue flicked over his bottom lip before he bit down on it, like he was trying to hold something back. “It’s reckless. It’s dangerous as fuck.” I leaned in, “Yeah,” I murmured. “And it’s exactly what we want to do.” His face showed his displeasure very clearly, “Viviane, this isn’t something you just do. The people running these operations, the traffickers, the criminals, they aren’t just thugs on the street. They have entire systems in place. Corrupt officials, government backing, protection you can’t even begin to imagine. You step into this world, and you’re making enemies you won’t see coming. I won’t let you walk into that kind of danger.” “Alessandro—” “No. You need to hear me. You think I don’t get it? That I don’t respect what you’re trying to do? I do. But you’re not playing in a sandbox. You’re stepping into a war zone with people who don’t lose. You think these bastards will just let you interfere?” he shook his head, “They’ll come for you and I won

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ Brandon was already seated when I walked in, nursing a glass of something strong. He didn’t look up when I slid onto the stool beside him. Didn’t acknowledge me. I signaled the bartender with a flick of my fingers. “Macallan M Black, neat.” Brandon scoffed. “Figures you’d order the most expensive shit on the menu with your dirty money.” I raised both of my eyebrows, “You’re the one who picked the place.” The bartender nodded and set to work. I leaned back, stretching out my legs. I didn’t need to put on a show for him... power, real power, was quiet. It didn’t need to be flaunted. Brandon finally turned his head, his eyes full of something I recognized all too well, judgment, barely restrained aggression. “Let’s get one thing straight, Costello,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I sure as hell don’t approve of you being anywhere near Viviane. No matter what you say.” I nodded, taking my tim

Lorenzo ─·𓆰𓆪·─ The house smelled like garlic and rosemary, wrapping around me the second I stepped inside. I heard the faint clatter of pans, and the sound of Aurora’s voice, clear, proper, and already too smart for her own good. I shrugged off my coat, rolling my shoulders as I walked in. My muscles ached from the long day, but the second I saw them everything else faded. Aurora sat at the kitchen island, her tiny hands folded neatly over the marble counter. Even at five, she carried herself like a princess, chin high, back straight, her strawberry blonde hair brushed to perfection. She wasn’t just my daughter; she was a force. "Daddy," she greeted, barely sparing me a glance as she delicately sipped from her glass, sparkling water, no ice, just the way she liked it. "You're late." I grunted, stepping toward her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like vanilla and honey, like the warmth of home. "Had business." "You always have business," she said, sig