Novels by aereina078

Aria’s POVThe rain started just after midnight. I couldn’t sleep. I just kept tossing here and there, scared of the lighting and thunderstorm. On occasions when the lighting flashed, I hugged my sheets tightly and buried my face on the pillow.I was awake when a guard knocked on my door. “The Don wants you,” he said.The Don wants me again??My heart sank.Luciano’s study was darker this time. Only one lamp was on. A bottle of wine sat open on the table.“Sit,” he said.I did.He poured two glasses and pushed one toward me. I hesitated.“Drink,” he said.I obeyed.The wine burned my chest. And as I took a gulp, my head felt light.“You don’t fear me,” he said suddenly.I looked at him. “I feared many things.”“But not me.”I didn’t answer.There was a heavy silence between us again. His eyes never left my face. I felt exposed, like he could see every secret I had buried.“You don’t belong where you are,” he said quietly.I did not understand what he meant by that but my chest tighten

Aria’s POV“They want you upstairs.”Rosa’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it froze me where I stood.In this house, upstairs meant only one thing.Luciano Cortez.My fingers tightened around the damp rag in my hand until my knuckles burned. Soapy water dripped onto the tiled floor, spreading slowly, but I didn’t notice. My heart began to pound slowly at first, then faster, heavier, like something inside me was waking up and screaming to be let out.I already knew Rosa wouldn’t answer me, but I asked anyway.“What does he want from me this time?” I whispered.As usual she didn’t answer.Rosa never spoke more than she had to. And when she did, her words came wrapped in fear, heavy, short and with a state of urgency. She only looked at me, her eyes filled with something close to pity.That scared me more than words ever could.I dropped the rag into the bucket and wiped my wet hands on my skirt. The kitchen smelled of spices, oil, and warm bread. The smell mocked me as cold

Aria’s POVMy fingers tightened around the dirty clothes I was holding.They were still warm from the laundry room, damp with soap and heat, but my hands were cold. Shaking. I forced myself to breathe the way my father had taught me years ago.Slow breath in.Slower breath out.Control the body first.The mind would follow.“What does he want?” I asked quietly.Rosa didn’t answer.She only looked at me, her eyes filled with fear and warning, the kind that didn’t need words. Then she pressed her rough hand over mine and whispered, “Be careful.”Careful.I almost laughed.Careful had never saved anyone in this house.Still, I nodded.I left the dining hall and stepped into the long hallway. My bare feet made no sound against the marble floor. The mansion was too quiet, the kind that warned something bad was waiting.The guards stood like statues along the walls. None of them looked at me as I passed. Maybe to them I was just furniture. Invisible. Replaceable.I stopped in front of his d

Aria’s POVLuciano Cortez.The son of my father’s murderer.The man I was meant to hate forever.The man I had been slaved to.He was tall, about six foot two, broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair and piercing grey eyes. He carried a presence that demanded obedience without ever raising his voice.The resemblance to the former Don was unmistakable. In that moment, it became clear he was Luciano, the new Don everyone feared.“Where were you,” Luciano’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold, “when my uncle Ricardo was harassing her?”The fat man stiffened.His face was drained of color. Sweat broke out on his forehead, soaking into his collar. His lips trembled as he tried to speak.“I… I went to ease myself, sir,” he stammered. “I only stepped away for a minute.”Luciano turned slowly, his movements calm but terrifying. He took one step closer. Then another.“You left her alone,” he said quietly. “In a room full of animals.”The fat man’s knees shook so badly I thought he wou

Aria’s POV“Move!”“Walk faster!”One of the men barked the orders behind me.I looked down at my torn boho skirt. It barely covered my thighs. My top was worse; transparent, clinging to my skin, soaked with sweat and tears. My nipples showed clearly through the thin fabric, and I hated that I couldn’t hide them.We reached the huge iron gates.The last time I walked through these gates, I was with my father. Free. Safe and proud with my heads high.That day, I had followed him here while he submitted his daily financial reports to the cartel. I remembered holding his hand, feeling important, feeling protected.Now, I walked through the same gates in chains.No longer free.The hallway was long and cold. My bare feet pressed against the marble floor as I counted my breaths, trying not to break. Then another shout came.“Walk faster!”The fat man snarled again. “Don Cortez hates to be delayed.”My chest tightened.The fat man stopped a woman ahead of us, short, stout, with kind eyes w