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48-Please touch me

Auteur: Daisy_bell
last update Date de publication: 2026-03-01 01:06:05

[ IRIS’S POV ]

It started as a small flicker in my chest, but within seconds, it grew into a roaring furnace. The air in the vineyard, once cool and smelling of expensive perfume, suddenly felt like thick, humid wool pressing against my skin.

I wiped a bead of sweat from my temple, my heart starting to gallop against my ribs like a trapped bird. What is happening to me?

"Iris?" Salvatore’s voice sliced through the haze. I felt his hand on my shoulder—cold, steady, and grounding—but the touch se
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  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    76-Caleb

    [ IRIS’S POV ]The bus window was cold against my forehead. Outside, the world was a blur of green trees and busy roads. I watched the city, my home, my pain, fade away until it was just a small smudge on the horizon. For the first time in my life, I didn't have a Russo guard behind me or a Moretti shadow following me.I was just a girl on a bus.I leaned back into the hard plastic seat. My bag was heavy on my lap, filled with the few things I had managed to grab and the cash I had taken from Salvatore’s drawer. My heart was still thumping, a steady thump-thump that felt like a drum. I was tired, but I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Salvatore’s face. And I saw Sofia’s angry eyes.I took a deep breath. The air in the bus smelled like old leather and diesel fumes.Hours passed. The sun began to dip low, turning the sky into a bruised purple. The bus finally pulled into a small town I had never heard of. It was quiet here. The air felt different, thicker, smelling of

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    [ SOFIA’S POV ] I let out a shaky breath, forcing a tear to spill over. "They’re gone, Father. All of them." "Gone?" He slammed his glass onto the desk. "How? Mira Moretti is a girl! How did she take down thirty armed men?" "It wasn't just Mira," I lied, my voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "She was the bait. The moment we stepped inside, the lights went out. And then he stepped out of the shadows. Salvatore. He was there himself, Father. And Michael was with him." Father froze. The name Salvatore always made the room feel smaller. "Salvatore was at a distribution warehouse?" Father hissed, his grip tightening on the edge of the table. "He was waiting for us," I continued, gaining confidence in the lie. "He didn't even use guns at first. He and Michael... They moved like a beast. They mocked us. Salvatore told me to tell you that he’s tired of playing games with children. He said if you send me again, he won't let me leave." Father’s face turned a dark, ugly shade of red.

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