Novels by imaobongsamuel

ValeriaSome people think they know how far they can fall. They think they’ve seen betrayal, deception, and danger. I used to think that too. I was wrong.I felt frozen, my legs barely holding me upright. Dante stood across from me, silent, eyes sharp and unyielding. Aurelio Rossi, calm but deliberate, leaned slightly against the desk, watching me like a cat sizing up a mouse. My pulse pounded. My mind raced. I had faced death before. I had faced men with guns, lies, and traps. But nothing, nothing, felt like this.“Valeria,” Aurelio started, voice smooth, deliberate. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Relax. You did what needed to be done.”I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My throat felt dry. My hands were tight fists at my sides. My mind spun with questions. Every instinct screamed at me to run. But I couldn’t. Not now.He turned to Dante, folding his hands behind his back. “Let me explain. Six months ago, I came to Dante with a proposition.”I blinked, confusion slicing through me. My g

Valeria I froze in place, my heart hammering like it wanted to escape my chest.My eyes darted between the two men in the room, but somehow, my gaze was drawn back to Dante. I couldn’t focus on anything else. A bead of sweat ran down my temple, and I wiped it quickly, trying to make myself seem composed, but my hands trembled at my sides. This felt unreal, like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.I had looked at Dante. His eyes met mine, and a chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know what he wanted, or why he was here. My pulse raced, and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Dante. He was perfectly still, perfectly unreadable, and I searched his face desperately for any hint—any sign that Aurelio had told him anything, that he might be upset. But his expression was blank.Then the man spoke.“Valeria,” he said, and the sound of my name in his deep, commanding voice made my stomach clench. He stepped closer, slow, and deliberate. My eyes tracked every movement, heart

Valeria I grabbed Lorenzo’s hand—carefully, so careful not to press on the fresh bruises or pull at the bandages—and dragged him a few steps away from the open front door, around the corner of the house where the old lemon tree blocked us from view. My heart hammered so hard I felt it in my throat. Every second out here felt like a risk, like the driver’s eyes might follow us, like Dante’s reach might already be stretching across the city.“I’m working on it,” I whispered, voice tight and urgent. “I’ve been keeping him updated on everything. And I’m not stopping until we get him back.”Lorenzo’s good eye searched my face. His voice came out hoarse. “What if Dante finds out?”“He won’t.”He shook his head slowly, wincing. “You sound so certain, Val. But what if he does? What if he already suspects something? You saw how he looked at me in that room. How he dragged Marco in like evidence. What if—”“It doesn’t matter,” I cut in, sharper than I meant to. The words burned on the way out.

ValeriaLorenzo leaned heavily against me as we climbed out of the car. His arm was slung over my shoulders, his steps slow and unsteady, every breath still ragged from the pain he refused to admit. I kept my grip firm around his waist, supporting most of his weight while he tried to walk like he wasn’t half-broken. The driver held the back door open until we were both clear, then shut it quietly behind us.We approached the front steps of the old house together—my house, once. The same chipped blue paint on the railing, the same cracked flowerpot by the door that no one ever fixed. Lorenzo’s breathing grew shallower the closer we got. I could feel the tremor in his body, the way he tried not to wince with each step.The front door flew open before we even reached it.My mother rushed out with her hair loose, eyes red-rimmed, apron still tied around her waist like she’d been in the middle of something domestic and frantic.She didn’t look at me.Not once.She barreled straight for Lor

Valeria My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them. Every beat echoed louder in my ears, faster, wilder, as if my body already knew what my mind refused to accept. Dante stood there like a statue carved from ice and fury, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the hooded figure between his men. Only God—and Dante—knew who was under that black bag. Only they knew what fresh hell he was about to drag into this room. I couldn’t breathe right. My fingers dug into Lorenzo’s blanket, anchoring me to the bed while everything else spun. Nico stepped forward without a word. His hands moved to the knot at the prisoner’s neck. One sharp tug and the bag came off. Marco. The bar owner blinked against the sudden light, face pale and streaked with sweat and dirt. His graying hair stuck to his forehead in damp clumps. His mouth opened and closed like a fish pulled from water. He took in the room—the bandages on Lorenzo, the doctor frozen in the corner, me standing rigid be

Dante I couldn’t sit still.The moment the door slammed behind me, the hallway felt too narrow, and the air too thick. I leaned my back against the wall outside her room, with my arms crossed tight over my chest like that could hold everything in. My heart was still hammering from what we’d almost done—what I’d almost let myself do.She’d been gone for hours.No call. No message. No trace. Just vanished into the night after that question as though I was the enemy instead of the man who’d built walls around her to keep the world out. I’d paced around this house like a caged animal, checking cameras, calling men, and barking orders until my throat burned. Every minute she didn’t walk through that door felt like a knife twisting deeper.And then she had.Stepping out of that black car like nothing had happened, eyes blazing, chin high, carrying the scent of danger and secrets on her skin.I’d wanted to drag her into my arms right there in front of everyone. Shake her. Kiss her. Demand a