{EDMONDO'S POV}**The estate feels like a mausoleum. I stand in the grand hall, my boots echoing against the hard marble floors. The scent of cigar smoke lingers differently and sharp. The air was as well mixed with the faint tang of aged whiskey. My father.I don’t need to see his face to know he’s sitting in his usual spot; the heavy leather chair that creaks under his weight. The sound is as familiar as his low growl when he speaks."Edmondo," his voice cuts through the room like a blade, cold and precise.I turn toward the sound. His cologne; a dark, woody scent with a hint of tobacco, fills my nostrils. Beside him, someone shifts. Hmmm, that's a faint rustle of foreign fabric catching my attention. The smell is different. Not entirely unfamiliar, but I can’t place it.Foreign. Yet familiar.I step closer, scanning the strangers movements… silently. The stranger doesn’t speak, but I hear the subtle scrape of a shoe against the floor. That's a habit of someone impatient or anx
{CARA'S POV}**I’m dragged through the corridor. My bare feet scrape against the rough cement floor and my arms are bound behind me. Shit, the rope is biting into my skin, and the damp air reeks of stinky sweat and damp metal.I can barely think.The men are silent and my head pounds as I try to focus on the details around me. Anything could be a clue or a way out. But all I can see are their tattoos, faint but unmistakable.The one at the base of the man’s neck catches my eye first; a small, intricate design of an eye, inked so subtly it could be missed if not for how closely I’m watching him. My stomach churns, and a chill runs down my spine.These definitely aren't Edmondo’s men. But wasn't Edmondo the only person after my life?It makes no sense. Edmondo’s world has its horrors, but this? This feels darker, older, like stepping into the shadows of something ancient and untouchable.
{CARA'S POV}**The Van's engine roars to life, jolting me forward. My wrists ache against the bindings, and the gag muffles my frantic attempt to scream. Outside, the gunfire grows louder, punctuated by shouting and the sharp squeal of tires. Whoever these people are with black tattooed eyes on them, they are in trouble. Edmondo's men are closing in fast. The blue-eyed man sits opposite me with a calm expression despite the chaos. He leans back, one hand casually resting on his knee while the other is gripping a pistol. He doesn't look at me. His focus is fixed on the chaos outside.I twist against my restraints, hoping for some slack. Nothing. "Don't bother," he says suddenly, "you're not getting out of those."I glare at him, screaming against the gag. But he just smirks. "You've got spirit. I'll give you that," he muses, leaning forward. "But you're in over your head, Cara."The van swerves
{EDMONDO'S POV}**“That car.”I stare at the headlights up ahead. I can’t see through the tinted glass, but I know it’s them. Even if I could see their faces, they’d just be a blur.I know Cara is in that car.I don’t think twice.My foot slams harder on the gas pedal. The engine roars as I close the distance, the lights and metal of their car blurring together as I steer into their lane.I can’t see their faces, and it doesn’t make sense to crash into them. But since I lost half my sight, I trust my instincts more than anything.They don’t know what’s coming.Tires scream, and then there’s a bone-jarring crash as I cut into their lane.The impact is loud and violent. The metal of their car crumples like paper. Time slows, and I see it all; the car shuddering, spinning out, then coming to a sudden, jagged stop. My body aches from the jolt, but I don’t pause. I throw open my door and step out.I don’t see Cara yet.The wrecked car in front of me smolders, smoke curling from its twis
{CARA'S POV}**I wake slowly. The ache in my head is dull but persistent, as if even my dreams had been laced with pain. My right hand feels heavier than usual, and when I shift, the clink of metal startles me fully awake. I blink, trying to focus on the dimly lit room, and that’s when I notice it.My wrist is chained to the bedboard.I swallow hard, pulling gently against the restraint, but it doesn’t budge. A quiet panic rises in my chest, only for my eyes to wander and catch the figure across the room. Edmondo.His back is to me, bare and taut. Every muscle is defined as if carved from gemstone. He stands by the desk, holding a pen in one hand. Papers are spread out in front of him. He’s completely focused, shoulders tense. His movements are precise. Even from this angle, he exudes power.I shift again, and my gaze flicks back to the chain. It feels heavier now, like more than just steel; it feels like a reminder. A punishment.The memories of the crash flood back; the car, th
{EDMONDO'S POV}**I climb on top of her, and the moment my weight presses her down, I feel her sharp intake of breath. She’s beneath me now, where she belongs. My face lowers to the crook of her neck, and I take in her scent. A single, deliberate sniff.Her body trembles. It’s subtle, but I notice it. She’s shaking, and I haven’t even done anything yet. The corners of my lips twitch, amusement flickering in the back of my mind. Is she wet? The thought comes unbidden, but it stays. Torn, perhaps? The idea intrigues me. And for a moment, I want to see for myself.But no. I push the thought aside.She’s not going to distract me. Not with her body. Not with those eyes. Not with the way she’s trying to make me forget the reality of what’s between us. She thinks she can sway me, but I’m not a fool. She’s desperate, but mercy? No. She’ll get none of that from me.I grip her jaw, tilting her face up to meet mine. Her eyes are wide, swimming with fear and something else… something I don’
{CARA'S POV}**I can barely breathe. Every gasp feels stolen, smothered by something that shouldn’t feel good, shouldn’t feel right; but does. It suffocates me, but not in the way that makes me want to fight for air. It’s a suffocation that leaves me spinning, untethered, unsure.Pleasure? No. I won’t call it that. Ecstasy? No, that doesn’t fit either. Excitement? Not quite.It’s something else entirely.My body feels alive, electric. It's buzzing as if a current is coursing through me. Butterflies in the stomach? No, this is nothing so delicate or charming. It’s bigger, messier… Like bubbles. Bubbles are racing through my veins, refusing to burst, refusing to stop no matter how much I will them to.I try to focus on his words, on the sharp, biting things he’s saying about Papà. But they feel distant. Like they’re being spoken from another room while my body remains trapped here, responding to him despite everything in me screaming to resist.“Your father is a spineless fool,” E
{EDMONDO'S POV}**The knock on the door is like salvation… for her, from me, and maybe even from myself. From my fingers. From the storm brewing inside me. Or was it?Perhaps, just perhaps, it was an escape for both of us. I wasn’t ready to tell her everything she needed to know. Not yet. The act of unraveling her in more ways than one had become my excuse. If there was no distraction, if she were just sitting there, raw and exposed, with only the weight of my words… she’d break.And, truthfully, I might too.The knock saved me from seeing her crumble.. and saved me from my own damn urges. I was getting hard from the way she responded, the way her body betrayed her anger, her questions, her doubts.I let go of her like she burned me. The shirt I’d discarded earlier was back in my hand, pulled over my torso with a speed born from years of training. My back turned to her, I faced the door as it swung open
{EDMONDO'S POV}**As the thought of Kara's flushed face burned into my mind, I glanced down at my boots. They sat in a neat row at the foot of the cupboard, polished and gleaming, waiting for me to choose. I wasn’t a goddamn girl, standing there debating over which pair to wear, so I grabbed the first ones my eyes landed on. A pair of snow boots.Not fluffy like some dainty princess shit, but a rugged kind of soft. The material was scaled, sturdy, and masculine, with an edge of tread sharp enough to leave marks if you stepped the wrong way. They weren’t my usual heavy-soled, leather boots, the ones that announced my presence with a rhythmic thud wherever I walked. These were quieter. Subtle. And tonight, subtlety was exactly what I needed.Sliding my feet into them, I felt the softness against my skin. But the weight of unfinished business still pressed against my thoughts.. and my pants. I adjust
{CARA'S POV}**“I hate how this place smells,” I mutter.My fingers trace the edge of the vanity and I feel the rough wood beneath my touch. The scent of blueberries clings to the air, mingling with the sharp tang of my own skin. Everything here is foreign, nothing but a reminder of how I don’t belong. Nothing is mine, not the bed I collapsed on, or the items scattered like careless whispers across the room. This is Edmondo’s world. And I’m just caught in its chaos.I draw the towel tighter around my body, suddenly conscious of the thinness of it, the way it clings to me with every shiver. I step into the bathroom, letting the steam from the shower wrap around me. I needed the steam to hide me from my own thoughts. The water roars, a force trying to drown out the memories of Edmondo’s voice, the way it cut through the space between us with a promise I’m not ready to admit. His eyes, those cold iceberg like eyes that were both cruel and beautiful, are now burned into my mind. He
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