The moment I open the door, my world shatters. Two of Don Mario’s men stand there, as they always do, but their presence tonight feels heavier, darker. My heart plummets like a stone. "Well, don’t you look fancy," the bald one sneers, his oily grin spreading across his face. The dim light above reflects off his head, making him look more sinister. He turns to his partner, seeking approval for his vile comment, and chuckles as he glances back at me, licking his lower lip. His partner’s gray eyes sweep over me, slow and deliberate, like he’s taking inventory of every inch of my body. "I’d like to have a taste," he says, his voice low and mocking, sending a wave of cold dread rushing through me. My breath catches. My body stiffens, but I force myself to speak. "W-why are you here?" I stammer, though I already know the answer. My payment is due, and I don’t have it. The bald one tilts his head, his expression hardening. "Why are we here?" His voice drips with icy sarcasm. "Why d
Stephany>>> I don't get him. I really don't. Sebastian Sanders, the smug nepo baby who stained my dress with coffee and couldn’t bother to apologize, now looks... a little less than the irredeemable asshole I pegged him as. Even though I try to steer my attention elsewhere, my gaze betrays me. It’s like gravity, pulling me back to him again and again. The way his eyes stay fixed on the road, dark and intense, flickering with something I can’t define—it makes my stomach flutter against my will. The glow of the city lights spills through the windows, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the faint shadow of stubble that dusts his skin. And then there are his hands. His veined, impossibly large hands grip the steering wheel with the kind of command that sends an electric current rippling through me. Every motion is deliberate, controlled, powerful. When his other hand moves, fingers slowly tugging at his tie, loosening it just enough to reveal the b
Sebastian's POV Stephany's eyes flicker nervously as I asked her what my brother said. "It's nothing I can't handle." she mutters, brushing the question off. I don't believe it but it's clear she doesn't want to talk about it. I drop my question in an attempt to ease her discomfort. I know the whole night has been nothing but suffocating for her and I wasn't going to add to it. Though the dinner is over, it's just the beginning and I am not going to back down. Apart from my mom, everyone else is still skeptical about my union with Stephany which means I need to convince them harder and I was just going to do that. My gaze hovers over Stephany who still looks uncomfortable and an idea sweeps my mind. Without a second thought, I sweep her off her feet resulting in an audible gasp from her. She looks at me with the most "
The tension at the table is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. I glance at Sebastian, his face a perfect mask of calm, though his clenched jaw betrays the effort it’s taking to hold his composure. Andrew, on the other hand, radiates a smug confidence, his fingers drumming lazily against the polished table as if he’s savoring the discomfort in the room. His gaze flickers to me, then back to Sebastian, and I realize this dinner isn’t just about me being introduced to the family—it’s some sort of game between them. Sebastian’s mother, oblivious or perhaps willfully ignoring the tension, claps her hands lightly to grab everyone’s attention. "Well! Now that we’re all here, let’s begin," she says brightly. Servants begin to bring out plates, their movements seamless and precise, but I can barely focus on the food. “So, Stephany,” Andrew starts, his voice slicing through the murmurs of small talk. “How did you and my dear brother meet?” My chest tightens as all eyes swing tow
We arrive at a sprawling mansion nestled within an estate that feels worlds away from the bustling city of Las Vegas. The air itself carries a weight of luxury, the kind that wraps around you, almost suffocating in its opulence. I let out a shaky breath, silently reciting the details of the fabricated story Sebastian and I had rehearsed—the perfect lies of how we met, our supposed whirlwind romance, and the little personal touches he’d told me to memorize. The massive oak door emerges before me, a barrier between my world and the one I’m about to step into. Sebastian’s hand slips into mine, our fingers interlocking in an unexpectedly intimate gesture. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through me, my pulse quickening in response. “Phew… okay, I can do this,” I mutter under my breath. Sebastian’s sharp gaze flicks toward me, and the faintest smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Relax. It’s going to be fine,” he says, his tone smooth and reassuring, though it does little
“I…” I start, hesitating as the weight of my next words presses down on me. “I have a sister, Elise. She’s in college… it’s just the two of us now.” My voice falters, my gaze darting nervously between Sebastian’s piercing stare and the silence growing heavier around us. His expression doesn’t shift, his presence as unwavering as stone. “What about your parents?” he asks, his voice calm yet probing, as though he already suspects the answer. “No,” I blurt out, sharper than intended. “You can’t meet them.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Why not?” “They’re dead,” I whisper, the words slicing through me like glass. Each syllable is bitter and raw, leaving a sharp sting in their wake. For a moment, something flickers in his dark eyes. Guilt? Pity? Whatever it is, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving only a faint shadow of humanity in his otherwise impenetrable gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice holding a sincerity that catches me off guard. It’s unsettling—