When struggling single mother Liora Sable is cornered by mafia enforcers outside her diner shift, the last person she expects to save her is Varian Kole — the ex-lover she left years ago without explanation. Now the city’s most feared crime boss, Varian insists on bringing her into his guarded penthouse “for protection,” but protection comes with a price: he demands she become his mistress. Liora agrees only to survive, hiding the existence of her six-year-old daughter, Wren. But when Wren’s worsening heart condition forces Liora to risk exposure, Varian discovers the truth — and his daughter’s life becomes the center of a violent turf war. As kidnappings, betrayals, and rival syndicates close in, Liora is forced to navigate Varian’s dangerous world, transforming from captive to strategic partner. Together, they dismantle old enemies and face new ones, ultimately remaking Varian’s empire into something that can protect their family. But in their world, peace is fragile — and every choice could be the one that shatters it.
View MoreThe penthouse hall was quiet, too quiet. Liora moved like a shadow, coat tucked under her arm, shoes in her hand.Elevator at the end. Thirty more steps.She pressed the call button, heart pounding so loud she was sure the cameras could hear it.The doors slid open—And Bram was inside.He looked down at her bare feet, then at her coat. “Going somewhere?”“Out,” she said flatly.He leaned against the frame. “Boss said you don’t leave without him.”“I’m not asking him.”“Funny,” Bram said, hitting the ‘close’ button, “because he’s the only one who can stop me from carrying you back.”Her chin lifted. “You going to drag me? In front of your precious security feeds?”“Feeds are his,” Bram said. “He’ll see either way.”They rode in silence back up to the penthouse.When the doors opened, Varian was already there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of something dark.“Shoes in your hand,” he said calmly. “Coat under your arm. That means you weren’t planning on asking me.”“I
The elevator pinged.Bram stepped in first, big shoulders filling the doorway. Behind him, a wiry man with a split lip and hands zip-tied in front of him stumbled forward, pushed by another of Varian’s men.“Boss,” Bram said, “caught this rat tagging up a bakery on Fifth. Claims he’s just an errand boy.”The man spat blood on the marble. “You’re dead anyway, Kole.”Varian’s voice was ice. “Put him in the chair.”Bram shoved the runner into one of the steel-framed dining chairs. The man winced as the metal bit into his ribs.Liora lingered by the kitchen counter. “You’re doing this here?”“Yes,” Varian said without looking at her. “So you learn what kind of people paint your name on a wall.”The runner laughed hoarsely. “She’s yours? Pretty. We’ll make sure she—”Varian’s hand was around his throat before the sentence finished. “Choose your next words like they’re your last.”Bram leaned on the back of the chair. “He had this on him.” He tossed a small, black spray can onto the table.
The call came just after breakfast.“Boss,” Bram’s voice crackled through Varian’s phone, “you’re gonna want to see this.”Varian glanced across the table at Liora, who was pushing eggs around her plate without eating. “Put it on live feed.”A shaky camera angle popped up — the alley beside the diner where she’d worked. Big red letters splashed across the brick wall:MARSELLI BUSINESS. BACK OFF.Liora’s fork froze in midair. “That’s—”“Your diner,” Varian said, not looking away from the screen.Bram’s voice was flat. “It wasn’t there last night.”“Any witnesses?” Varian asked.“Two kids across the street said a black van rolled up around three a.m. Four guys jumped out, masks, spray cans, out in sixty seconds.”Varian ended the call and set the phone down slowly.Liora’s voice was tight. “They’re not after me.”“They’re after anyone they think belongs to me,” Varian said.She shook her head. “This is because you keep showing up there—”“This is because the Marcellis are looking for so
Liora was halfway to the elevator when the two men in black stepped into her path.“I’m going out,” she said, chin high.One of them tapped his earpiece, then listened. “Boss says no.”She exhaled hard. “Tell the boss I’m not asking.”The man didn’t move. “Tell him yourself.”The doors to the lounge slid open, and Varian was standing there like he’d been waiting for this exact scene.“Going somewhere?” His tone was light, but his eyes weren’t.“Yes,” she said. “To see my cousin. She’s—”“Not happening.”Her fists clenched. “You don’t even know why—”“I don’t need to know why. I know that in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve had two separate reports of people sniffing around your old neighborhood. And one of them is the same man who was standing under that lamppost.”She took a step toward him. “You think I can’t handle myself?”“I think you can’t dodge a bullet you don’t see coming.”Her voice dropped. “I won’t be long.”“You won’t be leaving.”They stared at each other in the hallway,
“You chew with your back teeth, never your front. The knife never touches your teeth. And for the love of my reputation, don’t rest your elbows on the table,” Ines said, circling the dining room like a drill sergeant in four-inch heels.Her nails clicked across the polished walnut as she stopped behind Liora’s chair. “Straight spine. Chin level. You want them thinking controlled elegance, not stray-cat defiance.”Liora sat stiffly at the long table, shoulders tight, a glass of water untouched in front of her. “Why do I need to know how to eat with a salad fork when you people solve problems with guns?”Ines’s dark eyes flicked over her like a laser sight. “Because when a gun is pointed at you, words might buy you seconds. And those seconds can mean your life.”At the far end, Varian lounged with a phone in his hand, thumb scrolling. He looked absorbed, detached even, but Liora could feel the weight of his listening. He was always listening.“Let’s start with safe phrases,” Ines said b
Liora had been pacing for fifteen minutes before she realized she was mapping the place.Not the way someone does when they’re admiring furniture — she was counting doorframes, tracing the faint gleam of sensors near hinges, noting where vents hummed louder.The hall to the east wing had five doors. Only two opened. One creaked an inch before a green light blinked above the handle. She froze, watching it fade back to red when she shut it again.Security. Everywhere.She drifted toward the living room, pausing by the wall of glass that looked out over the skyline. She stepped closer.The street below looked… odd. People moved, but their faces were a smear of light and shadow.Varian’s voice slid from the corner. “One-way.”She turned sharply. He was leaning against the doorway.“So you can see them but they can’t see you?”He tilted his head. “So no one knows where I’m standing when they’re in my sights.”Her eyes flicked back to the glass. “That’s not a view, it’s surveillance.”Varia
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