Novel-novel oleh Triple G

The courthouse was packed. Press, spectators, curious townspeople—everyone wanted to see the Reynolds brothers' saga play out. Valentina sat behind the prosecution table, Duke beside her, their hands clasped so tightly her fingers had gone numb.Connor entered in an expensive suit, flanked by two high-priced lawyers. He looked thinner, his charm dimmed but not extinguished. His eyes found Valentina's across the room, and he smiled. Cold. Calculated. Unrepentant.She looked away."All rise for the Honorable Judge Patricia Morrison."The trial began with opening statements. The prosecutor, a sharp woman named Davis, laid out the case methodically. Connor Reynolds had murdered his father, framed his brother, and attempted to kill a witness to cover his crimes.Connor's lead attorney, a silver-haired man named Whitmore, countered with reasonable doubt. The evidence was old, contaminated, unreliable. Connor had been a traumatized teenager, and his recent actions were those of a desperate m

Two weeks after Duke's release, life had settled into something resembling routine. Morning coffee together. Duke at the garage. Valentina at the bookstore. Evenings on the couch, pretending the past months hadn't happened.But the past had a way of refusing to stay buried."Connor's trial date got moved up," Marcus announced during their weekly check-in at his office. "Judge wants this handled quickly, given the publicity.""How quickly?" Duke asked."Six weeks. And the DA wants both of you to testify."Valentina's stomach knotted. The thought of facing Connor again, of reliving everything in court..."We'll do it," Duke said, his hand finding hers. "Whatever they need."After leaving Marcus's office, they drove in silence. Duke pulled over at the town park, killing the engine."You don't have to testify if you don't want to," he said. "I can handle it alone.""No." Valentina turned to face him. "We're in this together. Remember?""Together." Duke's smile was sad. "Sometimes I wonder

Duke's apartment felt different when they walked through the door. Smaller somehow, despite being the same space Valentina had lived in for months. Or maybe it was just that Duke took up more room now—his presence filling every corner, his freedom tangible and overwhelming."Home," he said, the word cracking slightly. He stood in the middle of the living room, looking around like he'd been gone years instead of weeks. "I never thought I'd see this place again."Valentina set down his few belongings—the clothes he'd been wearing when arrested, now in a clear plastic bag. Everything else was exactly as he'd left it. She'd kept it that way, refusing to pack up his life even when it seemed hopeless."You hungry?" she asked. "I could make something, or order—"Duke pulled her against him, cutting off her words with his body. His arms wrapped around her waist, face buried in her hair, holding on like she might disappear."Just need this," he murmured. "Just need you."They stood like that f

The old barn looked different in daylight. Less ominous, more sad—a forgotten relic of a broken family's past.Valentina parked Duke's truck at the edge of the property, Axel pulling up behind her on his bike. He stayed back as promised, but close enough to intervene if needed.A figure stood near the barn entrance, silhouetted against the morning sun. As Valentina approached, the figure stepped into the light.She stopped dead in her tracks."Denny?"Duke's club brother looked older than his thirty-five years, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. "Hey, Valentine.""You're my mysterious friend?" Disbelief colored her voice. "You've been feeding me information this whole time?""Yeah." Denny shoved his hands in his pockets. "And before you ask why, let me show you something."He led her around to the back of the barn, to a spot where the earth had been disturbed recently. Crime scene tape still fluttered from nearby stakes."They dug up Thomas Reynolds three days ago," Denny

Valentina woke at dawn, her neck stiff from sleeping on the couch, her mind immediately snapping to the ticking clock. Seven hours until Duke signed his life away.She showered quickly, dressed, and was out the door by six-thirty. The sheriff's office didn't open until eight, but Valentina knew Sierra would be there early. She always was.Sierra's car sat alone in the parking lot. Valentina took a deep breath and went inside.Sierra looked up from her desk, eyes red-rimmed, a coffee mug clutched in both hands. She looked like she hadn't slept at all."I'm not ready to talk," Sierra said before Valentina could speak."Then listen." Valentina sat across from her. "I know you loved Duke. And I know he hurt you. But helping Connor destroy him won't fix that hurt. It'll just add guilt to the pain.""You don't know what it was like." Sierra's voice was raw. "Loving someone who was in love with someone else. Knowing you'd never be enough because you weren't her.""You're right. I don't know

Connor chose an upscale steakhouse an hour outside Riverdale. Private booths, dim lighting, the kind of place where deals were made and secrets were kept.He stood when Valentina arrived, his smile practiced and perfect. "You look stunning.""Thank you." She let him pull out her chair, every movement calculated. "What are we celebrating?""Patience." Connor ordered wine, expensive and red. "Let's enjoy the evening first."They made small talk through appetizers, Connor charming and attentive. But Valentina could feel the tension underneath, like a wire pulled too tight.Finally, over the main course, Connor set down his fork."I had a visitor today," he said. "Sierra. She seemed... agitated."Valentina's pulse quickened, but she kept her expression neutral. "Oh?""She said you threatened her. Tried to blackmail her into testing evidence." Connor's eyes were hard despite his smile. "That's a serious accusation, Valentina.""Is it true?""I asked her what she wanted to do about it." He

*I want you to know—I'm still here. Still waiting. Still believing that someday you'll understand what I was trying to do. Not the manipulation. Not the obsession. But the genuine desire to nurture real talent.* *Your parents will tell you this letter proves I haven't changed. They'll say it shows

POV: Nova Two years after Darren's sentencing, I watched my daughter perform at Carnegie Hall. Sixteen years old. Standing on one of the most prestigious stages in the world. Playing an original composition she'd written about survival, transformation, and refusing to be broken. The audience—two

"Don't read it," Nova said. "Burn it. Don't give him the satisfaction." But Elena insisted. "I need to know what he's saying. What he's planning." We opened it together. Three pages, handwritten, his careful script. *Dear Elena,* *I know you won't want to hear from me. I understand. I've thought

POV: Kai Six months after Darren's sentencing, life almost felt normal again. Almost. I stood in the doorway of the studio's main space, watching Elena lead a workshop for younger students. She was fourteen now, more confident, teaching them about music theory and performance anxiety. Twenty kids

"I'm thirteen, not stupid. And now I know what manipulation looks like. What reformed abusers claim versus what they actually do. That's valuable. Painful, but valuable." She pulled me close. "When did you get so wise?" "I have good teachers." Dad appeared in the doorway. "Family meeting in the l

POV: Elena My documentary had thirty million views by the time Darren's parole hearing happened three days later. I sat in the courtroom between Mom and Dad, watching him in his orange jumpsuit. He'd been arrested for parole violation—contacting me despite the restraining order, making threats, de

"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

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