เข้าสู่ระบบAstrella Honey Salcedo, a writer with a hidden side, unknowingly steps into a deadly trap when she clicks on a mysterious link. Kidnapped and sold at a secret auction, she was taken aback when the highest bidder took her—someone from her past she never expected to see again. Cold and menacing, he’s a figure she once trusted, now twisted by anger and revenge. He holds her family responsible for a betrayal that shattered his life, and he’s not there for forgiveness. As Astrella's pulled deeper into his dangerous world, she begins to wonder: Is he the villain of her story, or something far more complicated?
ดูเพิ่มเติมAstrella Honey's point of view The suite felt warmer the second we stepped back inside. It wasn't just the hum of the heating system kicking in; it was my chest. It felt full in a way I wasn't used to. It was a happy-full, a calm-full, the kind of feeling that doesn't come with a hidden bill or a demand for payment later. I kicked my boots off by the door and let out a soft laugh, spinning around once in the middle of the living room just because I could. Dax looked up as he unbuttoned his coat, watching me with a curious tilt of his head. "Why are you suddenly glowing?" he asked, his voice humored. "Should I be concerned? Is this a fever?" "I'm just... happy," I said. I felt like I was admitting to something illegal, a secret I wasn't supposed to have. He paused for a heartbeat, his gaze softening
Dax Donomie's point of view By the time the house finally went quiet, it was well past midnight.The place looked like a battlefield, but a happy one. Bodies were scattered everywhere. Fabio was out cold in the armchair, one boot still stubbornly on his foot. Silvio hadn’t even made it to the guest room; he’d claimed a spot on the couch like a fallen soldier and hadn't moved since. Upstairs, the Buricat girls were tucked away, their doors half-open with the occasional snore echoing into the hall. Ciejill had vanished hours ago, which usually meant she’d either found a secret corner to sleep in or was already up to no good for tomorrow.I stood in the hallway with my arms crossed, taking in the wreckage of the night.“Next year,” I muttered to the empty air, “we’re hiring a full staff.”Astrella leaned against the wall right beside me. She was barefoot, draped in one of my oversized sweaters, she changed earlier, her hair a messy bird's n
Astrella Honey's point of view The wind off the Hudson had teeth, but the moment the Javits Center doors hissed shut behind us, the chill was replaced by the hum of a thousand voices and the thick, unmistakable scent of expensive lattes and overpriced funnel cake.I looked down at our table. The stacks of books were still there, crisp and smelling of fresh ink, looking far too professional for something that had started as a messy draft on my laptop.“Check the line,” I said, my voice hitching as I wrestled my gloves off. “Are they lost? Do they think we’re giving out free snacks?”Joana didn’t even look up; she just smoothed the corner of a display poster with a smirk that was pure ego. “It’s the charm. We’re talented, we’re pretty, and we’re just the right amount of unhinged.”Isha shrugs, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Actually, it’s because you put your characters through a metaphorical woodchipper and these people have a taste
Astrella Honey's point of view Fuck it. Looking back, that night at Anonymous was easily the worst decision I’ve ever made. The Molly, the coke, that entire blur of neon and bad choices, it was a total disaster. And then there was Dax. The way he caught me, the "punishment" at the railing... just thinking about it makes my skin prickle. It’s been three months, and I still haven't touched base with the Buricats. Ciejill was a complete bullshit friend for letting that happen, but whatever, we’re fine now. I guess.One, two, three months. I try to count them like they’ll eventually add up to a version of me that forgets, but I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I still hear the bass of the club and feel the cold glass of that balcony against my skin.But honestly? Something shifted after that night.I’m used to this Mafia life now. I don’t just live in it; I own it. I’ve traded the reckless high of a club for the cold, sharp adrenaline












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