Novels by Triple G

"And what are you giving her? Federal investigations? Public scandal? A future where she's known as the woman who destroyed her marriage for a criminal?" "I'm giving her freedom." "Freedom?" Darren stepped closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "There's no such thing as freedom in this wo

"The charges are fabricated and you know it." "Do I? Because the FBI seems pretty convinced. Something about offshore accounts and suspicious trades." He shrugged. "But I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. Just like I'm sure you'll be around to raise Nova's baby. From a federal prison cell." "Dar

POV: Kai The cameras exploded the moment we stepped out of the car. Flash after flash, questions shouted from every direction, microphones shoved toward us like weapons. I kept Nova close, my arm around her waist, shielding her as best I could. "Nova! Is Darren the father?" "Mr. Storm! Are you p

Another message came through: *PS - I've already spoken with Dr. Reynolds. Lovely woman. Very understanding about complicated family situations. She knows I'm the husband. The legal father until proven otherwise. Which means I have rights in that room. Rights Storm doesn't have.* No. He couldn't.

POV: Nova I woke up Wednesday morning and barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Kai was there instantly, holding my hair back, rubbing circles on my back while my body betrayed me. Morning sickness. The first real physical sign that this wasn't just a positive test—there was actually

We fell onto the bed together, shedding clothes and walls and every defense we'd built. This wasn't gentle. This was fire. This was need. This was two people claiming each other despite the chaos. "Tell me again," she demanded, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Tell me you'll stay." "I'll stay

The Riot Kings Summer Rally transformed Riverdale for one weekend each year. Motorcycles lined the main street, leather-clad riders from chapters across three states filling the bars and restaurants. Music, laughter, and the constant rumble of engines created a soundtrack unlike any other.Valentina stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, barely recognizing the woman who looked back. Faded jeans hugged her curves, tucked into well-worn boots. A simple black tank top showed off arms that had grown stronger from months of mechanical work. And over it all, the leather jacket with roses embroidered on the back—a piece of her past reclaimed, no longer hidden away in shame."You ready for this?" Duke appeared in the doorway, his own cut displaying the vice president patch she'd once found intimidating."As I'll ever be." She turned to face him, suddenly nervous. "Do I look ridiculous? This jacket is—""Perfect." Duke cut her off, crossing to pull her into his arms. "You l

"Pass me that socket wrench," Valentina said, hand extended without looking up from the Sportster's engine.Duke obliged, watching as she tightened a bolt with practiced ease. Three months after returning from California, and she'd transformed—not just in her growing mechanical skills, but in something more fundamental. A confidence, a centeredness, as if she'd finally settled into her own skin."Getting good at that," he commented, leaning against the workbench. "Couple more weeks, you won't need me at all."Valentina glanced up, a smudge of grease on her cheek. "Maybe that's the point. To not need you." Her smile softened the words. "But I'll always want you around."The distinction meant everything. Duke had watched her rebuild herself alongside the motorcycle—parts removed, examined, some replaced, others restored, all coming together into something both familiar and entirely new."How's it feeling? Think she'll be ready for the rally next weekend?" Duke nodded toward the nearly c

"We're more alike than either of us wanted to admit." Eleanor's smile was wry despite her weakness. "Both too proud, too stubborn to bend."They talked for nearly an hour—really talked, perhaps for the first time in their adult relationship. About Valentina's marriage, about Eleanor's regrets, about the walls they'd both built that had kept them apart.Not everything was resolved. Some hurts ran too deep for a deathbed reconciliation to fully heal. But something shifted between them, a heaviness lifting that Valentina hadn't realized she'd been carrying."The Reynolds boy," Eleanor said as Valentina prepared to let her rest. "You love him?""I do." No hesitation now, no shame in admitting it. "Always have.""And he loves you.""Yes."Eleanor nodded, eyes drifting closed with fatigue. "Good. That's good. Be happy, Valentine. Not the way I thought you should be. The way you are."The simple blessing, coming from a woman who had spent years trying to reshape her, brought fresh tears to V

The California sun felt different from how Valentina remembered—harsher, more glaring, lacking the soft edges of Riverdale's morning light. Or maybe it was just her perception that had changed, colored by all that had happened since she'd left."Nice place," Duke commented as they pulled up to her mother's Spanish-style home in Palm Desert. "Your mom live here long?""Since the divorce." Valentina stared at the manicured lawn, the carefully tended bougainvillea. "Dad paid for it. Guilt money, she always called it, though she never refused to spend it."Duke squeezed her hand before killing the engine of their rental car. "Ready?"Not really, but it was too late to turn back now. Valentina nodded, squaring her shoulders as they approached the front door.Melanie answered on the first knock. Her sister looked thinner than Valentina remembered, dark circles shadowing her eyes. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the betrayal between them a physical presence."You came." Melan

The California sun felt different from how Valentina remembered—harsher, more glaring, lacking the soft edges of Riverdale's morning light. Or maybe it was just her perception that had changed, colored by all that had happened since she'd left."Nice place," Duke commented as they pulled up to her mother's Spanish-style home in Palm Desert. "Your mom live here long?""Since the divorce." Valentina stared at the manicured lawn, the carefully tended bougainvillea. "Dad paid for it. Guilt money, she always called it, though she never refused to spend it."Duke squeezed her hand before killing the engine of their rental car. "Ready?"Not really, but it was too late to turn back now. Valentina nodded, squaring her shoulders as they approached the front door.Melanie answered on the first knock. Her sister looked thinner than Valentina remembered, dark circles shadowing her eyes. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the betrayal between them a physical presence."You came." Melan

Moving in with Duke proved easier than Valentina had expected. Her sparse possessions filled a single corner of his closet, her few books finding homes on his shelves. Within days, it felt as if she'd always been there—coffee mugs side by side in the cabinet, her shampoo next to his in the shower, two toothbrushes in the bathroom cup.Small details, but they filled her with a quiet contentment she'd never known before. This was belonging, not possession. Partnership, not ownership."What do you think?" Duke stood in the doorway of his—their—bedroom, watching as she arranged the last of her clothes. "Everything fit okay?""Perfect." Valentina smiled, closing the drawer. "I travel light these days.""Noticed that." He crossed to sit beside her on the bed. "Far cry from the woman who needed three suitcases for a weekend trip to the lake back in high school."The memory made her laugh. "God, I was ridiculous. What did I even pack?""Four swimsuits, if I recall." Duke's smile turned wicked

Two Years LaterThe Las Vegas sun beat down on the hotel pool deck as Sarah adjusted her sunglasses, watching Diego teach their son to float in the shallow end. Laughter echoed across the water as little Vincent—named in a gesture of reconciliation that had surprised everyone—splashed with toddler enthusiasm."He's a natural," Robert commented, settling into the lounger beside Sarah. "Just like his father.""And stubborn like both his parents," Sarah agreed with a smile. At eighteen months, Vincent was already displaying the infamous Castillo determination, along with his mother's analytical gaze.The Bellagio suite reserved under "Mr. and Mrs. Castillo" held none of the shocking surprise of their first Vegas visit. This time, they had come deliberately—a family vacation combined with the opening of the newest Castillo Hotels property just off the Strip."Hard to believe it's been two years," Robert mused, following her gaze to Diego and the child. "Sometimes I still expect to wake up

Rain pounded against the study windows as Sarah waited, tension coiling tighter with each passing hour. Diego had been gone for eighteen hours now, his last message cryptically brief: "Contingency implemented. Stay secure."Robert Walsh paced the room, his former FBI training evident in how he periodically checked windows and monitored security feeds."They should have made contact by now," he muttered, checking his watch again."Diego knows what he's doing," Sarah replied with more confidence than she felt. Her back ached from sitting too long, the baby restless within her.The secure phone on Diego's desk chimed—a sound so unexpected that both Sarah and Robert froze momentarily before lunging for it.Sarah reached it first. "Yes?""Package secured," came Antonio's voice, deliberately vague. "En route to secondary location. One hour."Relief washed through her. "Condition?""Stable," Antonio replied. "Minor complications, nothing critical. Primary returning separately."Diego was comi

Six months passed with surprising speed. Sarah's pregnancy progressed smoothly, her body changing as winter turned to spring. The Castillo Foundation launched to positive press coverage, its first initiatives focusing on legal support for low-income families and scholarship programs.Diego's transformation of the family business continued methodically—divesting from questionable enterprises, strengthening legitimate ones, rebuilding the Castillo name as a symbol of business acumen rather than criminal power."The Miami hotel acquisition closed this morning," Diego announced as he joined Sarah on their bedroom terrace, where she was enjoying the early summer sunshine."That's the fifth property this quarter," Sarah noted, marking the location on her tablet map. "The hospitality division is becoming our largest legitimate asset.""Clean, profitable, and excellent for networking," Diego agreed, settling beside her. "How are you feeling today?"Sarah rested a hand on her now-prominent bell

One month after Vincent's surrender, the headlines had faded, replaced by political scandals and celebrity gossip. Within the Castillo organization, however, his absence remained a palpable void.Sarah found Diego in Vincent's former office, surrounded by files and digital records, methodically reorganizing the family's enterprises."You missed lunch," she said, setting a sandwich beside him.Diego looked up, fatigue evident in the shadows beneath his eyes. "I lost track of time.""You've been losing track a lot lately," Sarah observed, perching on the edge of the desk. "Nonna is worried.""There's so much to untangle," Diego gestured at the paperwork. "Vincent's operations were more complex than I realized. Some of these connections go back decades."Sarah picked up a folder, scanning its contents with her prosecutor's eye. "This shipping company in Naples... it's a money laundering front, isn't it?""Was," Diego corrected. "I've already sold our interest. The legitimate businesses ar

Sarah kept Vincent's confidence for three days, wrestling with conflicting loyalties. Her marriage demanded honesty with Diego, but Vincent's plan, though extreme, would secure the family's future. The prosecutor in her recognized its legal elegance, even as the wife in her dreaded the impact on her husband.She found Diego in his study late at night, reviewing contracts by lamplight. His face, serious in concentration, softened at her approach."Working late?" she asked, closing the door behind her."Restructuring the shipping division," Diego explained, setting the papers aside. "Vincent's always handled that sector, but with his legal situation uncertain...""That's what I need to talk to you about," Sarah said, taking the chair opposite his desk. "Vincent's meeting with the Justice Department."Diego raised an eyebrow. "Did he share details with you?""Yes," Sarah admitted. "He's negotiating a plea deal.""We assumed as much," Diego nodded. "His lawyers will ensure minimal—""No la

New York looked different to Sarah as their private jet began its descent—familiar yet foreign, like returning to a childhood home as an adult. Four months had passed since Vegas, since the night that had changed everything.Diego squeezed her hand as the wheels touched down. "Ready?""As I'll ever be," Sarah replied with a small smile.The media frenzy surrounding Kingmaker had mostly subsided, replaced by the methodical grind of prosecutions and congressional hearings. Sarah's role in exposing the conspiracy had made her something of a reluctant hero in legal circles, though her marriage to Diego Castillo remained controversial.Antonio waited beside a bulletproof SUV as they deplaned. "Welcome home," he greeted. "Nonna is eager to see you both."The Castillo estate had transformed during their absence. Additional security measures were visible everywhere—more guards, enhanced technology, even the landscaping redesigned for better sight lines."Vincent's upgrades," Diego explained, n

"Forty-seven buildings in one hour," Elena said, her voice tight with stress. "It's impossible.""Nothing is impossible," Serena replied, studying the city map spread across the conference table. "But we're not thinking like Marcus.""What do you mean?" Dante asked, coordinating with the bomb squads via radio."Marcus is petty, vindictive, and above all, personal." Serena traced patterns on the map with her finger. "He doesn't want to just hurt us—he wants to break us. Systematically.""So?""So he's not going to bomb random buildings. He's going to target the ones that matter most to each of us." She looked up at the family heads. "Vincent, what's your most prized legitimate holding?""The Grand Milano hotel. It's been in my family for three generations.""Dmitri?""My restaurant chain. Specifically the flagship location on Fifth Avenue.""Maria?""The Santos Construction headquarters. We just finished renovating it last month."Serena nodded, marking each location on the map. "Elena

The emergency meeting was called for midnight.All five family heads gathered in the war room, their faces grim as they surveyed the blood-stained evidence of the evening's battle. Serena sat beside Dante at the head of the table, her mother-in-law's ring catching the light, dried blood still under her fingernails.She'd cleaned her face and changed clothes, but she'd deliberately left the blood on her hands.Let them see what she was capable of."Thirty-seven dead Kozlov soldiers," Vincent reported. "Complete tactical victory.""And our losses?" asked the Russian, Dmitri."Three men wounded. None dead."The silence that followed was heavy with implication. A victory this complete wasn't just luck—it was planning, skill, and ruthless execution."How?" asked Maria Santos, the only other woman at the table. "Thirty-seven professional soldiers don't just walk into a slaughter.""They underestimated us," Dante said simply. "They thought they were attacking a crime lord and his pregnant wi

The safe room was a prison.Serena paced the reinforced steel walls, listening to gunfire echo through the building above her. Every shot made her flinch, made her imagine Dante bleeding, dying, leaving her alone again."Fuck this," she said finally.The safe room had its own weapons cache—Dante believed in being prepared for everything. She strapped on a bulletproof vest, checked the pistol he'd taught her to use, and overrode the lock system with the emergency code he'd made her memorize.The elevator was locked down, but the stairs were still accessible.She made it to the main floor before she heard voices in the stairwell above her."—told you, he's got to be in the penthouse.""Boss says bring back his head. The woman too, if we can find her.""What about the baby?""What baby?"Serena pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering. These weren't just random attackers. They knew about her pregnancy."—heard she's knocked up. Worth more alive if we can use her as leverage.""N

"You arrogant bastard!"Serena's hand connected with his cheek in a slap that echoed through the office. Dante's head snapped to the side, but when he looked back at her, his eyes were blazing with something that wasn't entirely anger."Feel better?" he asked calmly."No!" She shoved against his chest, but he barely moved. "You manipulated everything! The gala, the pregnancy, this whole situation!""I orchestrated an opportunity. Everything else was choice.""My choice?" She laughed bitterly. "What choice did I have when you manipulated me into bed?""You could have said no.""To a stranger I was attracted to? At the lowest point of my marriage?" She shoved him again, harder this time. "You knew exactly what state of mind I was in!""I knew you were unhappy. I knew you were lonely. I knew you deserved better than what he was giving you.""So you decided to give me better by lying to me?""I decided to give you one night of feeling alive!" His control was starting to crack. "One night

The next morning, Serena found Dante in his office speaking Italian in low, urgent tones. When he saw her, he ended the call abruptly."Good morning, cara mia.""Who was that?""Business." He stood and moved around the desk toward her. "How are you feeling?""Like I need the whole truth." She sat in the chair across from his desk, unconsciously regal in her bearing. "All of it, Dante. No more secrets.""What do you want to know?""Start with the gala. How did you know I'd be there?""I told you—""You told me you'd been watching me. But there's more, isn't there?" Her eyes were sharp, intelligent. "You didn't just happen to be at that specific charity event."Dante was quiet for a moment, then moved to the windows. "I bought a table.""You bought a table at a five-thousand-dollar-a-plate charity dinner to watch me from across the room?""I bought the entire event."Serena's breath caught. "What?""The charity, the venue, the catering—I funded all of it. Through shell companies, of cou

Serena spent the night staring at the ultrasound photo.Their baby. Hers and Dante's.She'd known, somewhere deep down, that something was wrong with the timeline. Marcus had been distant, cold, barely touching her for months before she got pregnant. But she'd convinced herself it was just stress from his political campaigns."Can't sleep?" Dante's voice was soft in the darkness."Too much to process." She turned to face him in the massive bed. "Tell me about that night. The gala.""What do you want to know?""Everything." She pulled the covers up to her chin. "Why were you there? How did you even get close to me?""I'd been watching you for months, learning your schedule, your habits. I knew Marcus would be at that gala, and I knew he'd bring you as his political trophy wife.""So you planned to seduce me?""I planned to see you. To be near you for the first time in seven years." His voice grew rough. "I wasn't planning what happened between us.""But you were wearing a mask.""Every