A Promise Wrapped in Leather

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• Beautiful But Unlucky    The Cyber King’s Past

  POV: SilviaI couldn't sleep.I was in my room, or rather a room in the guest house of one of my Father's private property in Manhattan. After Calvin left, Torreto whisked us (Eliza and I), to this house, saying it was much safer and that Eliza's place felt too ‘cramped’. A penthouse feeling too cramped, I never had the thought… After Eliza's short tantrum, she later packed up and followed, while I just kept silent throughout - Torreto wanted to keep a close eye on us and to him, locking us in a luxurious mansion was the least he could do.The supposedly comfy bed felt too stiff, and the beautifully designed ceiling that should have lulled me to sleep just kept me up.Around 1 a.m., I gave up pretending to rest and slipped into his study.I didn’t plan to snoop. Not really. But the door was unlocked, and the lights were already on like they were waiting for me.His study looked exactly like him - functional, dark wood,

• Beautiful But Unlucky    A Father’s Ultimatum

  POV: Calvin I didn’t taste a damn thing on that plate.Not the lamb risotto with its ridiculous glaze. Not the truffle-whatever Eliza said she imported from Paris. Not even the wine, which I knew had cost more than a penny even with Eliza's recent earnings. Everything sat on my tongue like ash.Because Torreto Moretti was watching me like a man deciding whether I was worth letting breathe another day.The room felt frozen, like someone had hit pause on the air.Silvia sat to my left, her fingers tight in her lap. Eliza hadn’t touched her glass since he spoke. And I—I was just trying not to look like a fraud. Like a kid caught playing in rooms far too big for him.Then he spoke again.“Two weeks.”He didn’t even look at me at first. Just cut into his steak with slow, steady pressure. His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.“Two weeks, Mr. Riego. Kai Deveraux. The Talib Lords. Remove them.”He lifted his fork, stabbed a bite of meat, and chewed like we weren’t talking about destroyin

• Beautiful But Unlucky    The Dinner of Storms

  POV: Silvia Eliza’s penthouse had never felt this stiff. If that was the right word to use.The whole place suddenly looked like it belonged in a billionaire’s architecture digest — gold accents, floor-to-ceiling windows, everything too clean to feel lived in, no longer homey and fun like it used to be. But tonight, beneath the polished floors and carefully curated art, there was something else brewing.Tension.Raw, sparking tension.The dining table was set like a meal for royalty - cut crystal, golden-edged china, and cutleries that cost more than some people's rent. Eliza had arranged everything with surgical precision. The air smelled faintly of sea salt, lemon zest, and something floral I couldn’t name. Probably intentional. Probably expensive.I stood at the edge of it all, trying not to pace. I adjusted my dress - emerald satin, long sleeves, low back. I’d worn it on purpose. My father always said the color suited me. Ma

• Beautiful But Unlucky    The Arrival of Torreto

  POV: SilviaThere’s a strange kind of stillness that comes right before a storm. Not the loud, screaming kind with hail and wind. The other kind. The kind where the air gets thick. Heavy. Pregnant with something you can’t name but know will change things.That’s how it felt, standing on the edge of the private tarmac, heels slightly sinking into the concrete as the hum of the sleek black jet went into silence.I hadn’t seen my father in years, ever since Eliza and I left home.And yet, it felt like he’d never left the room.He descended the plane steps like he’d descended a throne - unhurried, polished, and wearing a black overcoat that fit his large and muscular frame. The sleeves of his suit peeked out beneath it, crisp and charcoal. His hair was slicked back, no sign of grey in sight, though I knew the stress he carried could turn anyone ancient.Two men in tailored black suits flanked him. Sentinel, of course. They moved like shadows, like they’d memorized every threat in the vici

• Beautiful But Unlucky    Arranged marriage

  Calvin’s POVI left the penthouse that morning with my tie half-knotted, my head three steps behind my feet, and a pit in my stomach that I couldn’t name. It had nothing to do with the stack of paperwork waiting on my desk at Deva, or the campaign meetings I was already late for. No. It was Silvia.Again.The city buzzed outside the tinted windows of the car, but my thoughts were louder. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About them.Torreto Moretti.I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.The man is a legend. A ghost. The kind of name whispered in dark rooms and avoided by governments. He owned Sentinel Security, the most elite protection company in the world. They didn’t guard celebrities. They guarded secrets. Presidents. Billionaire monarchs. People whose identities don’t even make it to the public.And Silvia was his daughter. Not just a daughter - his daughter.Which brought me to a question I couldn’t shake.Why?Why had she agreed to the contract with me?She didn’t need 25%

• Beautiful But Unlucky    "You Know Who Her Father Is?”

  (Calvin's POV)It took me three minutes to realize I hadn’t moved. I was just standing there, robe half-open, towel forgotten on the floor, eyes locked on Silvia like she’d just told me the sky was fake.And honestly? It might as well have been.She looked up at me, her bare shoulder peeking out from the white sheets, her phone still resting against her thigh like it was burning her skin.“Sentinel,” I said again, still in a daze, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. “As in Sentinel Security Group?”She nodded, slowly.I laughed. It was a dry, broken sound. “I still feel your joking, because the other option is far more…”She didn’t laugh. That’s how I knew she wasn’t.I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hand dragging through my still-wet hair. My heart was trying to crack my ribs open from the inside. “That’s the group that guards presidents, Silvia. Presidents. Billionaires. Oil kings. T