"Success?"
"Finally." Enzo grinned lopsidedly and took off his black shirt. "A nice, solid dump." He flung the shirt over his shoulder, then sat next to me on the poolside recliner as the sun hurt my eyes. Like the weather, his brand new L-shaped pool looked too beautiful to ignore.
"It was the okra, alugbati, and chia seeds." I smiled at him, quite proud of my culinary skills.
"Yeah."
"I'll make you chicken adobo later."
"With eggs?" Enzo smiled wider. "Thanks for cooking again." He touched my chin and pressed a noisy kiss on my cheek. His hands smelled of apple-scented sanitizer.
"Mommy's asking if you just got back from Florence."
He scratched his forehead, his warm thigh touching mine on the recliner. "They'
◆ MILES ◆[ Mariangela, Umbria ] Salvato 75Z. Tough steel. Heavy. Minimal recoil. Accurate. Durable. Reliable, most importantly. The cold and smooth barrel glistened as I put my finger on the curved trigger, beaming and staring back at me. Just waiting for my patience to run out. I'd never used this to kill someone. But that might change today. The selfish bastard gave me this when I finally decided to join SF Shipping and ruin my fate...to his satisfaction. "Just a little present," he'd said. Well, it was more like an unacknowledged bribe. He seemed glad with my decision, but of course he wasn't as proud as Mamma. To him, working for the family business was my only means of paying off a longstanding debt. A debt I incurred just for being his only heir. "Boss." "What?" I glanced behind. With a l
◇ KEL ◇ "What're you reading now?" "Pathogenesis of lung injury. Receptor-binding domains and mutations." "Sounds dangerous. And intriguing." I smiled at the guy sauntering into the room, his grin showing off his adorable dimples partly hidden by his 5 o'clock shadow. "Fun workout?" "Mostly." "Your team heard of the newest outbreak in China?" "Yeah. We discussed it last week." Enzo flung a white towel over his shoulder as he approached me, his flat tone and expression quite serious. "Remember that five-hour meeting with Graham and the board?" "Yeah." I nodded. Graham was their chief scientist who headed Zione Bio's team of medical and pharmaceutical researchers. "Are they looking into it? The infected patients exhibit flu-like symptoms. Well, the hospitalized ones, definit
◇ KEL ◇ He must be thinking it was a sick joke. An elaborate prank. Or perhaps he thought I was gradually going insane? And delusional. Making up ludicrous stories that had festered in my head. Yet he didn't laugh at the things I'd said. Not even once. Enzo didn't even crack a grin. The look on his face when I mentioned "vampirars" and "dhampiricas" only varied between a deep scowl and a skeptical squint. He sat still beside me as I recounted everything I witnessed in Umbria. When I explained how I found out the Falcos supposedly became cursed with a genetic disease, he only stared at me, as if words were too difficult to muster up. "I know. I know how it sounds. But, it happened." I sighed. "And whenever I have questions, I call up Cloe. Or I ask Miles sometimes." "They're all.
◇ KEL ◇ [ A year later ] "Recombinant, mRNA, or viral vector?" "Viral vector. Or stick with recombinant subunit, but with a better adjuvant." "Sure. That works, too." Partly covered by a towel, Enzo walked out of the bathroom with a scrunched up nose and knitted brows. "But why not mRNA?" Why not go for the messenger-RNA type? If his CSO was doing his job, then the big boss should no longer ask me these questions weeks before their clinical efficacy trials. I sat beside the pillow and looked up from my phone, trying not to frown at the half-naked guy making the floor wet. The new mop I bought should be desert-dry by now. I'd left it near the pool. The weather had been friendly all morning. Like my hormones. And thank heavens for both. "If the board is now aiming for distribution on a global scale, your teams should opt for the one that's not gonna be a logistics nightmare." "Yeah. We should," he mumbled with a restrained sigh. "And they definitely want to scale up." "So go for
• Copyright © 2020 by M.Z. Mauve • All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this story or plagiarism of any kind is prohibited by the law. Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented. This story contains mature themes, profanity, violence, sexual and some triggering content (descriptions of SA) not intended for young readers. ◆ Author's Notes ◆ This is Book II of the Secret Heirs Series. The storyline in this book takes place after the last chapter of my first vampire/crime/romance story originally written in 3rd person and published on another platform. This book is a standalone but if you want more context behind the main characters, I suggest you read "The Heir's Secret Obsession" (THSO) [the non-paranormal version, a rewrite] on this same profile. • • • • PREVIEW •
2 years earlier ◇ Milan, Italy ◇ ◇ KEL ◇ It was his dark, wavy hair. Or was it the devil-may-care air about him? His height was also a plus. He was of lean build and several inches taller than me. Quite muscular. Distinct and symmetrical features. Plus a unique name. It made me think he was a full-blooded Italian. Apparently he was of American descent as well. Actually I found everything about him rather interesting. Subtly mysterious. He probably had a bad boy streak, too, but I didn't mind. Miles gulped some more of his beer as the loud party music drowned out the conversations simultaneously happening around us. I reclined in the sofa with my legs crossed. Miles went on chitchatting with his friends, the dull lights making his shoulder-length hair look somewhat shiny and soft to the touch. It was only the second time I saw him here in Italy. But I already felt drawn to him for some reason. Or was it because of the freakin' blood pact? We did it in front of his friends barel
◇ KEL ◇ Present Day
New York◇ KEL ◇ Power through. Mind over matter."You escaped death. You're invincible." Those words became the pretentious mental conditioning I fed my traumatized brain for weeks on end, until I was able to shut off the dreadful memories and my life felt normal again. Somewhat normal at least. I had to. Otherwise I might've ended up in a psychiatric ward. Alone. Ill. Ensnared and paralyzed by evil thoughts and horrifying images of that night. I had to fight it all off and push through with my life. I kept telling myself that I was fine. That I was past it. Until it eventually became the reality in my mind. The pretense became loathsome and felt ridiculous at times, but... It was necessary. My family shouldn't know what happened back in San Pietro. My mother would go berserk. No doubt they'd push me to press charges against the perpetrator. It would entangle Enzo into the whole mess. He'd be dragged into the investigation and might even have to testify in court against his brot