Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

Charles’s POVI step out of the restroom, rolling my sleeves as I make my way back to the main floor. The music still plays, but the atmosphere in the room has changed. People stand around awkwardly, some swaying half-heartedly, others just frozen in place like they aren’t sure whether to keep dancing or wait for something to happen. I shake my head, stunned, until my eyes land on Señor Davida González. Unlike the others, he isn’t just confused; he looks shattered. His hands are clenched into fists, and his shoulders are rigid. Fury and grief is plastered on his face. The sight of him like that makes my stomach drop. I walk through the crowd, heading straight for him. "Where’s Maria?" I demand the second I reach him. Davida exhales. “Ricardo… he took her upstairs.” My hands find my waist as I sigh disappointedly. I had missed the chance to see that motherfucker. Shit. This isn’t good. “What happened?” I ask.Davida turns to me. “Did I make the right decision, Charles?” Hi

Ricardo’s POV I stand face to face with Antonella, with my cheek still stinging from the slap she just delivered in front of everyone. My hand rests on my face, then I let it down as I run my tongue along the inside of my lower lip. Antonella’s eyes are filled with fury, and her chest heaves. She’s not done. She’s going to slap me again, and she’s not going to care. From the corner of my eye, I see Angelo sigh deeply. He doesn’t say a word, just gives me that I told you so look. I step closer to Antonella until I’m inches from her. "You hit me in public?" I say with a low aggravated voice.Her nostrils flare. "Yes," she spits, "and I will fucking do it again if I have to." My jaw clenches. The urge to retaliate crosses my mind but I hold myself back. Then her voice changes, it softens. "The kids have been waiting for you to come home," she whispers. "I have been waiting for you to come home." Her voice trembles with pain. "But you’re here. In Mexico. For some twenty-year-ol

Ricardo’s POVI stand before Antonella, with my arms crossed, watching as she shakes with frustration. Her voice is low but it’s filled with fury. “You wanted to see me? Well, I’m here.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “You think I wanted to see you?” Her voice cracks, but she forces herself to hold it together. “I wanted you home. I wanted you home for your daughters. I wanted my husband.” I pause, then let out a short laugh. “Your husband?” I say incredulously. “Remind me when I got married to you.” Her face turns red, and for a moment, she looks humiliated, like she’s realizing just how pathetic she must seem, clinging onto something that doesn’t exist. But she doesn’t back down. I press on, wanting to make her snap, wanting to push her to the edge where all her delusions about me shatter. “Show me your fucking hands,” I demand. “Did I put a fucking rock on it?” And just like that, she snaps. She slaps me, and the slap comes quick and hard, stinging my cheek, but I don’t e

Lana’s POVThe voice from the megaphone sends a shiver down my spine. I freeze for a moment, as the words echo in my head. Then, slowly, I push myself up from where I had been crouched against the bed. I make my way towards the window, gripping the sill tightly as I peer outside. And what I see makes my stomach drop. Over fifty men, lined up in the darkness, surrounding the mansion like a swarm of well-armed ghosts. Every single one of them is holding a gun. This isn’t just an ambush. This is war. And it’s all happening on Davida’s land. Ricardo’s influence is unmatched. Even here, where Davida is supposed to hold the most power, Ricardo Borrelli has managed to turn men against their own leader.I watch, observing the activities outside. The person holding the megaphone isn’t Luca. It’s someone else. He looks as deadly as Luca, only that he’s more calm and collective.The voice rings out again. “Bring them down. Don’t make me count.”It’s beginning to feel too real now. Too fuck

Charles’s POVAs I walk through the foyer of Señor Davida’s mansion, my mind is on a spiral. My hands clench at my sides, and my jaw aches from how tight I’m holding it. Lana’s alive.All this time, she’s alive and well. And Ricardo fucking Borrelli has her. After all this time, the worry, the guilt… she’s been alive. For months. Months that I could’ve had her back. Months that that bastard Ricardo Borrelli had her.I feel sick. I don’t even want to imagine what he’s done to her. He’s got her dressed up like a slut, parading her around like a possession, calling her his slut like she’s nothing more than a goddamn toy.That image of Ricardo touching her, owning her, breaking her, it makes me want to kill something. I wonder how many times Ricardo has fucked her. How many times he’s laid claim to what was never his to take.I am pissed. How the fuck did Ricardo get his hands on Lana? There was no way, no fucking way, Ricardo could’ve linked Lana to what happened to him. I was careful. I