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Cat Stories
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The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen

The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen

After her father’s death leaves behind nothing but a ten-million-euro blood debt, Graziella is dragged into the world of the Vitale brothers, men who rule the city’s underworld with violence, power, and a loyalty that has no room for mercy, and who, by law and history, are also her stepbrothers. In their hands, debt is not something to be repaid but something to be owned, and because her father failed them, Graziella becomes the collateral they inherit, allowed to exist only as long as she remains useful and silent. For months, she survives by making herself small, enduring cruelty and indifference alike, learning that in a house built on fear, silence is not submission but survival. To the Vitale brothers, she is temporary, a problem that will eventually disappear once its value is exhausted. Everything changes when the eldest announces his political marriage, a union meant to secure alliances and erase liabilities, and Graziella realizes how easily she will be discarded. Instead of begging, she makes a single request: thirty days as their wife and queen, not as property but as a recognized presence, after which she will vanish forever. They believe she is desperate. They believe she wants protection or love. What they fail to see is that Graziella is not bargaining for affection, but for access. Because in those thirty days, she watches, listens, and learns, and by the time they understand what she has become, the quiet debt they ignored will be ready to rule them all.
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Chapter: Chapter 61: The Waiting Room
The hospital smells of bleach and old pain.It is a specific, chemical scent that burns the inside of my nose, trying to mask the underlying odor of sickness and fear. But it can't mask the smell on me.I smell like copper. I smell like iron. I smell like Ciro.I am sitting on a plastic chair in the private waiting area of the Santa Lucia Hospital. It is a sterile box with white walls and flickering fluorescent lights that hum with a headache-inducing frequency. Bzzzzz.My hands are in my lap. They are stained red. The blood has dried, turning brown and flaky in the creases of my knuckles. It is under my fingernails. It has soaked into the knees of my jeans where I knelt on the crypt floor.I stare at my hands.That’s Ciro, I think. That’s his life on my skin.I don't wash it off. I can't. It feels like the only thing keeping him alive. As long as his blood is on me, he isn't gone.The double doors at the end of the corridor burst open.Bang.Two men storm in.Aureliano leads. He is s
Last Updated: 2026-03-16
Chapter: Chapter 60: The Human Shield
The gunshot is deafening.BANG.It echoes off the stone walls of the crypt, a sound so loud it erases everything else. The drip of water. My own heartbeat. The scream building in my throat.I flinch. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the impact. Waiting for the burn of the bullet tearing through my skull.But the pain doesn't come.Instead, something warm and wet splashes across my face.And then, a heavy weight slams into me.I open my eyes.The assassin is staggering backward. His gun is still raised, smoke curling from the barrel. But he isn't looking at me. He is looking at the man who just stepped out of the shadows.Ciro.The Enforcer stands between us. He didn't shoot. He didn't draw a weapon.He jumped.He threw himself into the path of the bullet meant for me.He stands there for a second, swaying slightly. He looks like a statue carved from granite, immovable and eternal.Then, a red flower blooms on his chest. Right over his heart.It spreads fast, soaking through his bla
Last Updated: 2026-03-15
Chapter: Chapter 59: Sanctuary Breached
The silence of the crypt breaks.Not with a whisper. Not with a footstep.With a crash.The heavy wooden doors at the top of the stairs fly open, hitting the stone walls with a violence that shakes dust from the ceiling.Boom.The sound echoes in the small, enclosed space like a bomb going off. My heart slams against my ribs, a frantic bird trying to break free of its cage.Thump-thump. Thump-thump.I scramble backward. My boots scrabble on the slick stone floor. My back hits the side of the sarcophagus. The cold marble bites into my spine through my thin t-shirt.I am trapped.A figure descends the stairs.He moves with a terrifying, lethal efficiency. He doesn't stumble in the dark. He doesn't hesitate.He is dressed in black tactical gear—pants, vest, boots. Silent. Professional. A face covered by a black ski mask, leaving only his eyes visible.Cold, dead eyes.This isn't a brother looking for a lost love. This isn't Spadino coming to beg. This isn't Ciro coming to claim.This is
Last Updated: 2026-03-14
Chapter: Chapter 58: The Ghost of Spadino
The silence in the crypt is different from the silence in the mansion.In the mansion, silence was a weapon. It was tension. It was the held breath before a scream.Here, silence is dead.It presses against my ears, heavy and cold. There is no hum of air conditioning. No distant crash of the sea. No rhythmic thud of guards patrolling the hallway.Just the drip of water. Plip. Plip.And my own breathing.I am huddled under the sarcophagus, my arms wrapped around my knees. The stone floor is unforgiving. My hip bone aches where it grinds against the granite.I should be relieved. I am free. I am hidden. I have escaped the cage.But freedom feels... lonely.It is a terrifying realization. I spent months praying for solitude. I spent months wishing I could disappear.But now that I have, the emptiness is suffocating.I miss the noise.I miss the chaos of the Vitale house. I miss the sound of Spadino’s lighter clicking. Click. Click. I miss his off-key humming. I miss the way he would burs
Last Updated: 2026-03-13
Chapter: Chapter 57: The Ghost of Ciro
The crypt is a freezer.I am curled beneath the sarcophagus, my knees pulled to my chest to conserve heat. The dust is thick, coating my throat, tasting of ancient bone and decay.My leg burns.I skinned my shin on the ladder in the sewer. I didn't feel it then—adrenaline is a powerful anesthetic—but now, in the silence, it throbs.I roll up the leg of my damp jeans.A long, jagged scrape runs from my knee to my ankle. It is caked with sewer grime and dried blood. It looks angry. Infection is already setting up camp.I reach into my bag. I have no first aid kit. I have cash, a phone, and a stolen diary. None of those stop gangrene.I take a bottle of water. I pour a little over the wound.The cold water stings. I hiss through my teeth.Sssst.I rip a strip of fabric from the hem of my t-shirt. I wrap it around my leg. It is a crude bandage, but it will have to do.I lean back against the stone.The pain in my leg is sharp, grounding. It reminds me of other pains. Other bruises.It rem
Last Updated: 2026-03-13
Chapter: Chapter 56: The Ghost of Aureliano
The crypt smells of damp stone and centuries of silence.I am huddled in the corner, behind a sarcophagus carved with weeping angels. The stone floor leeches the warmth from my bones, turning my blood to slush. My clothes are still wet from the sewer, heavy and clinging.I shiver. Rat-a-tat-tat. My teeth chatter.I need to sleep. My body is screaming for it. But if I sleep, I might not wake up.I stare into the darkness.The shadows seem to move. They detach themselves from the walls, coalescing into shapes.One shadow is taller than the others. Broader. It wears a suit that fits perfectly, even in the gloom.Aureliano.He isn't real. I know he isn't real. He is a projection of my exhausted mind, a ghost summoned by my fear.But he looks real.He stands by the crypt entrance, leaning against a stone pillar. He is smoking a cigarette. The cherry glows red, illuminating the sharp planes of his face. He looks calm. Clinical."You're cold," he says. His voice echoes in my head, deep and s
Last Updated: 2026-03-13
Rewinding My Reaper Boyfriend

Rewinding My Reaper Boyfriend

“Why do you keep looking at me like I’ve died before?” Elion’s voice trembles—half accusation, half fear. Cale freezes. He shouldn’t know. He shouldn’t remember. But he does. Every scream. Every last breath. Every timeline where Elion slipped through his hands. After a viral scandal destroys his career, Elion joins a reality dating show hoping to fix his reputation. The last thing he expects is a partner who knows his coffee order, his sleeping habits, his childhood lullaby—things he never shared on camera. And when time itself begins to glitch around him, Elion starts asking the question Cale has spent lifetimes trying to avoid: “Have we… met before?” Because Cale isn’t human. He’s a reaper who has rewound time again and again just to keep Elion alive—each reset costing him pieces of his memory. Now the countdown is almost over. One more death. One final rewind. One impossible choice: Save Elion… or stay with him as a mortal who remembers nothing. When a romance made for television turns into a battle against destiny, how far will a reaper go to protect the only soul he has ever chosen?
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Chapter: 120: The Siege of Apartment 4B
The street outside was a carnival of support.Elion peeked through the blinds. Four stories down, a crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. They held signs painted with glitter and marker: WE BELIEVE YOU, HANDS OFF CALE, and TRUE LOVE IS SILENT."It's a mob," Elion whispered, letting the slat snap back into place. "A friendly mob, but a mob nonetheless."Cale sat on the sofa, his leg propped up on the coffee table. He was staring at the radiator, which was hissing and clanking like a dying steam engine."They are a perimeter," Elion said, turning back to the room. "Lysander can't send a extraction team through a crowd of teenagers with iPhones. It would be a PR suicide."Cale didn't respond to the strategic assessment. He pointed to the radiator. He tapped his ear.Listen."I hear it," Elion said. "It sounds like it's chewing rocks."Cale shook his head. He made a twisting motion with his hand."Valve?" Elion guessed.Cale nodded. He pointed to himself. Then to the radiator."You want to
Last Updated: 2026-03-16
Chapter: 119: The Court of Public Opinion
The laptop screen was the only source of light in the darkened apartment, casting a bluish-white glow on Elion’s tired face.It had been two hours since he pressed Upload.Two hours of silence. Two hours of staring at the progress bar of a life being dismantled and reconstructed in real-time."It's moving too fast," Elion whispered, his eyes darting across the scrolling comments. "I can't read them all."Cale sat in the armchair, his broken leg propped up on a stack of books. He was staring at the window, or rather, at the grey rectangle where the window should be."The numbers," Cale said. "Focus on the metrics. Sentiment analysis.""I'm not an algorithm, Cale. I'm a person reading comments from strangers who think I'm brave or brainwashed."Elion turned the laptop so Cale could see."Look," Elion said. "One million views. In two hours. That's... that's impossible."Cale looked at the screen. To him, it was a wash of white light and black text. He couldn't see the red hearts. He coul
Last Updated: 2026-03-15
Chapter: 118: The Grey Signal
The pill bottle rattled in Cale’s hand.It was 8:00 AM. The light in the apartment was flat and dull, filtered through the grime of the city window.Elion was in the kitchenette, boiling water for tea. He watched Cale out of the corner of his eye.Cale was sitting at the small table, staring at two small piles of pills. One pile was bright red—antibiotics for the infection. The other pile was blue—painkillers for the leg.To anyone else, the difference was obvious. Danger red. Calm blue.But Cale was hesitating. His hand hovered over the red pile, then the blue, then back again. He picked up a red pill. He brought it to his mouth."Stop," Elion said.Cale froze. The pill touched his lip."Which one is that?" Elion asked, walking over.Cale looked at the pill. "It is the... analgesic. For the pain.""No," Elion said gently, taking it from his fingers. "That's the antibiotic. You already took one this morning. If you take another, you'll get sick."Cale stared at the small, round tablet
Last Updated: 2026-03-14
Chapter: 117: The Color of Memory
Morning in the apartment was different than morning in the mansion.There were no birds singing. There was no gardener raking leaves. There was just the scream of a siren three blocks away and the rhythmic clank-hiss of the radiator waking up.Elion opened his eyes.The ceiling had a water stain shaped like Florida. He had stared at it every morning for three years before the show. It was ugly. It was familiar. It was beautiful.He rolled over.Cale was sitting in the armchair by the window. He hadn't slept in the bed. He was fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes—the black jeans (one leg cut open), the grey cardigan.He was holding an apple. A bright, waxed Red Delicious from the fruit bowl Elion’s landlady had left as a "welcome back" gift.Cale was turning the apple over and over in his hands, staring at it with a furrowed brow."Cale?" Elion croaked, his voice thick with sleep.Cale didn't look up. "Elion.""Did you sleep?""I monitored.""The door is locked, Cale. We're on the four
Last Updated: 2026-03-13
Chapter: 116: The Safehouse
The city was loud.That was the first thing Cale noticed as the adrenaline of the escape began to fade, replaced by the dull, throbbing ache in his leg.The mansion had been quiet—a controlled environment of whispers and wind. But Brooklyn? Brooklyn was a cacophony of sirens, shouting pedestrians, and the rhythmic thump-thump of bass from passing cars.Elion parked the stolen production van in an alleyway behind a brick tenement building. He killed the engine.The silence inside the cab was sudden and heavy."We're here," Elion whispered. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.Cale looked out the window. Brick walls. Fire escapes. Trash cans overflowing with wet cardboard."This is the safehouse?" Cale asked."It's my apartment," Elion corrected. "Or what's left of it. I haven't been here in six weeks.""Is it secure?""It has a deadbolt and a angry landlady who hates strangers. It's the most secure place I know."Elion opened his door. The humid city air rushed in, smelli
Last Updated: 2026-03-12
Chapter: 115: The Storm Break
The air in the Garden Room crackled.It wasn't the static of a television screen or the hum of electricity. It was the sound of reality stretching thin, preparing to snap.Elion stood by the door, his hand gripping the handle of the wheelchair. He was wearing his coat, his pockets stuffed with the few essentials they could carry: the notebook, the compass, the wallet, and the keys to a production van he had swiped from Gary's jacket during the lunch break."Are you ready?" Elion whispered.Cale sat in the chair. He looked small. The black coat swallowed him, hiding the cast, hiding the bruises. But his eyes were blazing with a terrifying, cold resolve.He looked at his wrist.Four marks.Four white lines glowing faintly against the pale skin.He raised his arm. He looked at Elion.He tapped his lips.The Kiss."I know," Elion said, his voice trembling. "It's the price. I hate it."Cale shook his head. He reached out and touched Elion’s mouth. His thumb traced the curve of Elion’s lowe
Last Updated: 2026-03-11
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