“Father, forcing a marriage on me really isn’t the best option, especially to Sofia. You know I only have affection towards her as the cousin she is to me. This marriage would break her”, Luca tried to reason with his father who was just sitting quietly and letting him rant, Luca never liked when his father goes quiet, it never is a good sign and so he was almost certain that all this logical reasoning wasn’t going to change his stubborn father’s mind.
“Sofia is beautiful, kind, compassionate and she is family. Non si fa del male alla famiglia (we don’t hurt family) and you know this”, Vincenzo de Luca responded calmly.
Marco De Luca took a deep breath to calm himself down, he now understood why his father had picked Sophia a. She was supposed to be some beacon of hope that appeals to his humanity for some reason and his father was right, he would never hurt Sopia…at least not physically but he could not vouch for that in regards to emotionally and mentally.
“Find a woman that would marry you in four months’ time and you won’t have to marry Sophia. It is that simple figlio mio (son of mine)”, Vincenzo said and walked away, leaving behind a confused Marco who sat down in deep contemplation on how he would be able to settle down with a woman in less than four months. No way, he refused to condemn Sophia to this fate just because he did not have a heart to give anybody. His father was right; family don’t get hurt no matter what.
He needed to leave the house immediately, surely if he was to find a woman, it would outside there and not in the place he was sitting which was slowly turning into a nightmare. He would go to the Opal later on that night but for now, he would lodge at one of his numerous hotels. He picked himself up and drove himself to La Rosa Della Notte, it was one of the family’s many hotels and it was named and dedicated to his mother who was known as the Rose of the night. It was in times like these that he missed his mother, but the Grim Reaper was such a cruel entity.
Few minutes later and he was at the reception of the hotel and he walked up to the counter with a haughty aura and asked for the key to his usual room.
“My room key”
“Yes sir”, the receptionist said and scurried around to get his key card from where it was kept before passing it to him with a soft bow. He snatched the key card and he went to the elevator with the intent to use his family’s private elevator but somehow found himself in the regular elevator by mistake. He groaned inwardly as he realized this and before he could step out, the door had already been shut. He was stuck with going to his suite with the stranger who had lifted her head slightly to stare at him just as soon as he had turned his back to face the door and he was grateful because he was sure he did not want to be notice in a regular elevator.
The whiff of her perfume lingered softly in the air and tickled his nose seductively, it had a hint of vanilla and fresh rose petals. He unconsciously agreed within himself that he loved the perfume already but he dared not to turn around and look at the mysterious lady. Shortly after, the door had pinged open and the lady stepped out on that floor, as she passed him, brushing him ever so slightly, her perfume scent danced its way into his nostrils heavily and by the time she had gone and the door was shut close again, he was surprised to find out that just the lady’s perfume had turned him on. The perfume and the wide, shapely set of hips he happened to notice just before she walked out. He groaned again in frustration and his unexpected hard-on solidified his initial plan to go to his regular bar, The Opal.
As soon as the elevator’s door pinged open, he rushed out and into his room to quickly undress and hit the showers in hopes that the cold spray on his body will calm down his erection. Before he knew what was happening, he felt his hand on his shaft and it felt so good so he proceeded to rub himself. Slowly at first, then he added speed and pressure as the scent and image of a mysterious lady in red who happened to have thighs that were perfectly wide to hold him tight while he pumped into was laid hidden between those thighs evaded his thoughts. A few pumps later and he could feel himself come apart in his palms as the cold spray from the shower helped him come and to his senses and clear his foggy sight. He could not believe that he could actually be that mesmerized over somebody he had not even clearly seen but he decided to push that thought aside as he came out of the bathroom and laid on his bed. He thought of doing some work with his phone first and also confirm when their drug shipment was to arrive in the state. It was in the process of all these work that sleep enveloped him but not before his thoughts flickered one last time to the lady on red with the vanilla and rose scent.
He woke up later in the evening around 7pm or thereabout and took his time getting to the bathroom to freshen up, he was giving himself today to relax and bounce back from the shocking news his father had given him, and even though it had been more than 24 hours since he first had the conversation of his marriage to Adriana, it still marveled him at how his father and uncle had come up with such conclusion.
He got dressed and went out, dropping his key card with the reception before he entered his car and zoomed up to The Opal which was a few blocks away from the hotel. Once he reached there and alighted the car, he gave his keys to the valet and went inside. He walked straight to the bartender and ordered his usual rum to be served in his personal VVIP room before walking through the crowd to the stairs that leads to the VIPs and VVIPs sections. He opened the door to the VIPs section and made his way to the VVIPs section and was almost there went a familiar scent hit him. It was the vanilla and fresh rose petal scent and he swiftly, instinctively turned around to follow the scent and sure enough, there was a woman seated at the edge of the VIP section.
He stared at her, she wore a black dress that had a low cut neck but she was seated so he couldn’t notice any other thing about the dress other than the fact that it was long-sleeved. He noticed she had a beautiful face and her black hair was packed up in a neat chignon. He took the seat in front of her and observed her dark brown eyes were so beautiful and enchanting, she was beautiful in a moderate but ethereal way.
“Hello”, he said with his usual confidence and she cocked a questioning brow yet he refused to let that deter him. He believed it must be his lucky day that he was fated to meet her twice that same day and he would not let the opportunity of having her in his arms slide.
“I am Marco De Luca and you are?”
The news about Alessa's true parentage had not gone well with Marco. It had struck him like a bullet. He never imagined anything like that. Vittorio Morreti was a man he had prayed not to be like in terms of forming a family. He was a man believed to have whiled away his youth without securing to himself an heir to inherit his empire. A king without an heir. La Corona Nera was said to be inherited by his nephew when he was dead. But the people knew better. They all knew there as going to be a squabble over power when Vittorio dies, especially if he dies suddenly. Now it was just a space of three days. Three days, that was all it took for Marco to discover Vittorio had two grown daughters who, in truth, were more than enough to run La Corona Nera . And to even make it worse, one of them had been living under his roof for the past month. And he even now has developed a soft spot for her. Marco couldn’t put everything together, it was all more than he could carry. “What if i had been p
The sound of the rain was heavy outside the window of her cramped apartment. Elena Conti, a journalist investigating the mafia’s influence in Philadelphia. She sat in front of her computer, the rhythmic sound of her fingers tapping away on the keyboard synchronized with the sound of the rain battering on the window. Her apartment was very disorganized, mirroring the kind of life she lived, a life of chaos, the life of a woman who was always busy digging deep. There was a cup of coffee on the table, leftover biscuits, and dirty notepads.Elena Conti was no ordinary journalist. While other reporters chased stories that could make the headlines for only a day and be forgotten by the morrow, she dug and chased after stories that could get her killed. Stories that were worth telling even after years.Her dark brown eyes behind the thin framed glasses she always wore for her eye problems other than for fashion examined the documents displayed on her desktop monitor, digital breadcrumbs she
Alessa paced about the length of the lavish bedroom, the sound from her boot was barely audible because of the plush Persian rug. “Vittorio Morretti’s daughter,” she said as she laughed a little. That truth pressed on her chest and felt like a Brand. “This contradicts everything I know and believe in.” She murmured. Isabella lay on the bed, watching her pace about with a smirk. “You’re overthinking this sorellina” she drawled from the bed, twirling a strand of jet-black hair around her finger, that infuriating smirk still playing on her lips. “Overthinking you say, is that what you really want to describe this as?” She snarled as she stopped walking and faced Isabella directly. “I've been lied to my whole life… by the people I loved the most. And in the end, I still got betrayed by them. And you have the gall to say I’m overthinking.”Isabella’s smirk vanished. She sat up slowly, the silk sheets pooling around her waist. “Not telling you anything is not equivalent to lying to you. I
The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum in sync with Sophia racing heart as she sat stiffly in the clinic's waiting room. The antiseptic scent that filled the air was familiar, yet it still made her stomach turn. Her fingers gripped the crumpled patient form in her lap, and the words "gestational period: 12 weeks" stared back at her like a harsh reality check.Her phone buzzed violently in her Gucci handbag, making her jump. The sudden vibration was startling in the quiet waiting area, and she could feel the nurse's disapproving look on her. Sophia tried to open the bag, her manicured nails caught on the gold hard material that was on the bag’s clasp. When she finally pulled out her phone, the caller ID indicated it was not a saved contact. An Unknown Caller.Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating. These days, unidentified calls usually meant trouble - her father's men checking in or Isabella and her associates with another stern warning. The phone vibrated again as if it
Matteo Pasquale was not a patient man. Patience was for men who lacked vision… for those content to wait for fortune to favor them rather than seize it with both hands. Matteo had spent a lifetime ensuring things bent to his will, and he preferred them to do so quickly. He was a man of precision, ambition, and ruthlessness. Every move he made was calculated, every word intentional. He had learned long ago that power was not given, it was taken. His acquaintance with Antonio Vincenzo stretched back further than he could remember. Decades of loyalty, strategy, and shared crimes, including bloodshed. They had met as young men, hungry and ambitious, fighting their way up from the gutters of Palermo to become influential figures in Philadelphia’s underworld. Together, they had built La Mano Nera into an empire. It had grown to become what none of them had imagined in their youth. Matteo married Gulia De Luca, Riccardo's only sister and she birthed only one child for him and could not co
Alessa sat still on the armchair, her whole weight rested upon it like it was her only support in life. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, “Vittorio Morreti’s daughter, could this be true?” She had a flash of thought about her foster father, Carlo. “Could he have known?” She asked herself. She thought of all the training he had given her, what was it all really about? Maybe she was being prepared by her foster father as a weapon to destroy their enemies. But why then abandon her? None of them made any sense to her, she just sat there thinking about anything possible. “Knock knock…” came the sound from the door before Isabella threw it open. She had an antique leather-covered photo album in her hand. “All the Proof you may need is in here.” She said as she handed the photo album to Alessa. Alessa opened the album, and it was a collection of photos of Vittorio Morreti and a woman. This woman had Alessa's waist-length black hair and deep, honey-brown eyes. As Alessa flipped through