In the haunting shadows of Calabria, Dr. Talana Fabrizio transforms from a healer into a vengeful force. Betrayed by her family and ensnared by the ruthless Drake de Marco, she navigates a treacherous world of mafia intrigue. Talana battles the demons of the underworld while falling in love with the second most powerful and ruthless mafia, Don, Massimo Morelli. All the while coming to onto who she truly is after years of being kept in the dark and away from those who truly loved her. As desire and vengeance intertwine, will she find love or lose herself completely?
View MoreIt was very rare for Talana to go out with her colleagues. Tonight, she had promised to join them at the club.
Later that evening, the soft glow of neon lights flickered outside the bar as Talana smoothed down her short red, strappy mini dress, black stockings, and a pair of short heel black shoes. As she entered, they beckoned her in their direction. Using their signal, she began walking over to them only to stop dead in her tracks. She felt it, someone's eyes roving over her, the intensity of a strong, dominant male’s gaze. Trying to ignore it, she proceeded to the group. Too late, he was seated just before her table. Massimo Morelli was looking at her with an intensity she had never felt before. As she passed by his eyes, we’re eating her up. His taut muscles visible flexed beneath his snug T-shirt and tattoos that snaked along his arms. His sharp jaw-line and smouldering blue eyes beheld an intensity that made the air around him feel heavier. As theycwere throwing back their drinks, instantly the noise faded into the background as the presence of a male approached their table. "Care to dance?" he leaned over and whispered in Talana's ear. Her heart beat faster at the sound of this male husky voice. As she looked up, her expression froze. It was him, the guy that had been watching her, a slow, confident smile spread across his chiselled face. "Well?" he asked, waiting on a response. "Go," one of the doctors nudged her under the table. "Okay," Talana responded reservedly. Holding out his hand, he guided her to the dance floor. The moment he stepped closer, his scent, a mixture of Old Spice and something uniquely him, enveloped her. They moved to the rhythm, and the world around them fell into a haze as she lost herself in the moment. Spinning her around, he pulled her closer into him, their bodies melding into a perfect harmony of excitement and danger. “I'm Max.” His lips curled at the edges, making her weak in the knees. “You come here often?” “I'mTalana and no,” she said, biting her lip bottom lip. “It’s a first. Tonight was a rare treat.” “I know who you are doc! But yes, a treat indeed,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with something she couldn’t quite identify, something mystifying. “You should have more nights like this.” His tone was laced with some magnetic. "hmmmm," she responded. The music kept on pulsating. Talana was lost in the moment. As the music changed, Talana removed herself from the dance floor and headed back to her table. Grabbing her drink, the rest looked on in awe. "Oh my goodness, he's like a god," the one doctor said. Talana was trying to catch her breath when, "Mr. Max wants you to join him at his table," his authoritative voice commanded. "I'm out with friends," she responded aloof and cool. "Doc, how often do you get a guy like that hitting on you," they urged her. Giving them the skank eye, she relented and went over to his table, but not before saying she would make it up to them. Over at Max's table, she excused herself, going to the ladies' room. Max knew who she was, for years, he had desired her. As Talana was about to exit the ladies, a door pushed open, forcing her to the side. "missy!" the man said, his breath wreaking of old alcohol and cigarettes mixed with the scent of new. his face having a covering over it. Pushing her back inside, he forced her against the wall. "Such a fucking whore! I'll teach you a lesson!" he grabbed her inner thigh pushing his hand upwards to her pleasure point, Talana screamed for help. Sensing something was wrong, he went towards the ladies room, then a scream bellowed. "Angel!" his chest clamped tight. He didn’t hesitate, pushing the door open he pulled the male away from Talana. "I'll kill you, you piece of shit!" he screamed hitting the man across the face full force with a fist. Grabbing Talana he said in a gentle, calm tone, nothing like she had just experienced when he went at the assailant, "Are you okay Angel? Did that bastard hurt you or violate you?" "I'm okay," she stammered, all shaken from the experience. He wrapped her in his embrace, “It’s alright, angel, I’m here for you.” This meant war, Talana was meant to be his woman, but first, she would need to know her background. As they walked, she noticed him with a cigarette in hand. "You smoke!" she stated. "Why? don't you like it, angel?" he smirked. Truth was he only smoked when he had been drinking. "Not at all," she responded. She had also noticed the smell on him when they danced. "I'll keep that in mind," he responded, his lips at the sides curled upwards. As they entered the private room, she asked, "What's this?" "This, angel, is the V I P room. Here I can see everything that goes on," he explained as he led her to a window and stood behind her, pressing his hard torso hauntingly against her supple body. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but after the experience a few minutes back, he backed down. "Max," she said as she wiggled out from his embrace. "Relax angel," he answered, "you're safe with me. I promise I will not do anything to harm you or violate your trust in me." Talana didn't know what to make of this. She'd never even been with a guy. "What made you come here?" he asked curiously, "You're different from all the others that come here." "Different? How?" she asked, standing by the window looking out over the club scene below. "You're more sophisticated. I take you for someone who loves the opera, art galleries, and quiet dinners," he observed her reaction. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" she laughed softly. "I don't need charm angel, I call it as I see it," he said. "See those girls down there, they're here every week, flirting, dancing, and kissing any guy that gives them attention." "Jeez," she said. "You angel, don't belong in a place like this, but you do belong up here with me," he smirked at her. Gently tugging her away from the window, he guided her over to one of the plush couches. Handing her a glass, he said, "Drink, it will calm your nerves after what just happened." Accepting the glass she sipped on the neat whisky and ice, a warm burning sensation glided down the back of her throat, hitting her stomach with a warmth. A wisp of hair fell out of place, Massimo reached out and brushed it way gently, softly gazing into her eyes as his thumb grazed her bottom lip. "Come dance with me again, angel!" his tone, more fervent. For some reason, Talana felt comfortable with him. She felt she could trust him. Her body didn't shudder to repel him the way it did with the assailant in the ladies' room earlier. Pulling her down to the dance floor, he moved his body closer, pulling her tighter into him as the vibe of the music slowed down. His hands rested on her hips lightly as he effortlessly guided her, leaving her breathless. "You're good at dancing," she commended as he twirled her in his arms. "Angel, I'm good at a lot of things," he replied as his lips curved into a wicked grin, pulling her closer to him. As they moved closer, Massimo said, "Angel, you are playing with fire!" he smirked as he bent his head and kissed her forehead. As the song ended, he twirled her one last time as her back leaned against his chest, pressing close to him. "You're trouble, angel," he murmured, sending a shiver down her spine at the nickname he had given her. "And you're not?" she shot back. "I'm the kind of trouble you will never forget, the kind you don't take home,” he chuckled low and deep. Early hours of the morning - "I need to leave," Talana said as she checked the time on her phone. Massimo didn't like the idea of her leaving the club alone and decided to escort her to her car. Taking her soft, defined hand in his strong, firm calloused hand, his thumb rubbed over its back, igniting something deep inside. "Let me at least get you to your car, angel. After everything you've been through tonight. I need to know you will be safe out of here. Talana didn't reject his offer. Instead , he warmly accepted it. As they got to the car, he pushed her back against it. His body was hard pressed against hers. His warm breath hovering just above her lips, as his hand reached for her face, his thumb again grazing her lips. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice a rough caress against her soft skin. Talana stood there, mesmerised by Max. Her lips parted, but not a sound escaped. "Angel, tell me to stop because once I start, there will be no holding back. I can barely control myself now,” he said again. Her body responded before her mind to tell her to resist. Her fingers curled into the silk fabric of his shirt, gripping him, silently begging him not to stop. Was it the alcohol that untamed the uaually very controlled and calm Doctor Fabrizio? Max’s lips captured hers, slow but possessive. A kiss that burned, setting her on fire. He pulled her closer, deepening the intensity, tasting, and exploring every ounch of her mouth. Max's hands explored the contours of her body as her back arch, her body moulding into his. His one hand clasping the back of her nape, angling her her head as he deepened their kiss. His other hand gripped her dress as though he wanted to rip it off. His mouth left her lips, trailing the side of her neck just below her ear. "Angel," he growled. Talana let out a sultry moan as he pulled her tighter, allowing her to feel the full hardness of his arouressing against her. Heat coiled within her moistening the region between her thighs. His hands trailed still lower, slipping under the hem of her dress as his fingers ghosted across the skin of her inner thigh teasing her. "Fuck angel," he rasped, "you have no idea what you're doing to me!" Talana trembled under his touch, a feeling within her; a flame she'd never felt before. "Don't," she cried. Those words nearly undid him. "You're so wet for me, angel." And just like that, just as she felt herself unravelling for him, Max stopped. With a force, he pulled away. Both were left breathless and wanton. "No, not like this, angel " he rasped, "not when I want to take my time with you. Make you feel every igniting desire. Not when I need you too freaking much." "Get in the car," he ordered, his voice strained with desire. "Please angel, before I forget that I'm trying to be a gentleman. Soon, soon I will make you mine," he muttered.The black SUV skidded to a stop outside the smoldering compound on the outskirts of Palermo. The smoke was still fresh, curling into the night sky like a dying serpent. Flames licked the broken skeleton of what had once been a trafficking hub, now there was nothing more than scorched earth and silence.Massimo stepped out, his boots crunching over glass and soot, eyes scanning the wreckage. Talana followed, her pistol still warm, blood spatter staining the sleeve of her coat. She didn’t flinch. Not anymore.“What did you find?” she asked Lorenzo as he approached, shirt torn, a gash on his cheek.“One tried to run. We caught him. He’s tied up in the truck. Doesn’t stop talking.”Gianna appeared behind him, calmer than she should’ve been, her hand subconsciously brushing her abdomen. She and Lorenzo shared a brief glance, then their gazes shifted to Massimo.“Where are De Marco and Donatello?” Massimo demanded.Lorenzo’s jaw clenched. “Gone before we arrived. They left someone behind to
The last of the flames consumed the documents and rotting silk furnishings inside the compound’s main estate. Talana stood outside the blazing ruins, her face lit in orange as she watched the past burn. It was almost poetic, this place, once a symbol of greed and torment, was now nothing more than smoke and ashes.Massimo joined her, his arm draping over her shoulders. She leaned into him, silently.“We did it,” she murmured. “They’re free.”He nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on the distant hills where police lights flickered and choppers cut through the early morning sky. “This part is done. But there are buyers out there, contacts, satellites of this network.”Talana lifted her head. “Then we hunt them down. Every last one. We burn every root.”Behind them, the rescued girls were being loaded into transport vans and taken to a Sanchiano-run recovery center. Doctors were already en route. Several of the Morelli women, including seasoned caretakers and trained trauma professionals
The compound on the outskirts of Palermo had once been a wine estate, all crumbling stone and ivy-strangled walls, but now it served as a fortress for the last threads of the De Marco and Donatello trafficking empire. Its beauty was deceptive, beyond the iron gates and manicured hedges were hidden bunkers, rooms with reinforced doors, and the stench of exploitation lingering in the air.Massimo stood before the electronic display inside one of the Morelli surveillance trucks, his fingers curled into fists as he studied the live feeds. Lorenzo stood at his side, geared in black tactical armor, his expression stone. Talana was on a separate line with Don Sanchiano’s reinforcements, coordinating the external assault. Gianna, though kept at the rear for safety, was fully informed, her voice had joined Talana’s in every strategic meeting, refusing to be sidelined.“This is where they hold them,” Lorenzo muttered, pointing to a grainy camera feed that showed a group of girls in a dark room,
The dining hall of the Morelli villa pulsed with tension. Morning had slipped into afternoon, and while the family gathered under the pretense of lunch, nobody touched their food. The air was too thick with unspoken strategy, the scent of roses from the courtyard now mingled with unease.Massimo stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, eyes narrowed on the map spread across the surface.“We took out their safehouse in Napoli last night,” Lorenzo reported, seated beside Talana. His voice was calm, but his body remained coiled, every muscle alert. “Only three survivors. One of them slipped away during transport—”There was a knock at the door, everyone turned sharply. Matteo one of Massimo’s most loyal men, entered with two others dragging a bloodied man between them. His nose was broken, face caked in dried sweat and filth. A makeshift gag was stuffed in his mouth. His arms were bound tight behind his back, legs scraped raw from being dragged through the gravel road that led to th
The morning sunlight bled gently through the villa’s arched windows, golden rays kissing the silk curtains and the cool marble floors. In the stillness of dawn, while most of the estate still slept off the lingering haze of the previous night’s chaos, Gianna sat alone in the garden, wrapped in Lorenzo’s oversized linen shirt.She had woken hours before him, heart racing, mind spinning.The scent of lavender hung in the air, calming, but it did little to steady the storm that now lived inside her. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the iron bench, eyes fixed on the blooming roses before her.Three days late. It wasn’t like her. Her body was a clock, always had been. Until now.She pressed a hand to her stomach, uncertain whether the flutter she felt was real or just anxiety taking shape in her nerves. But there had been other signs too, the dizziness, the sudden sensitivity to smells, the sharp ache in her breasts when he touched her last night. Signs she’d been too consum
The soft glow of the chandelier dulled as Talana slipped quietly away from the balcony. The echo of Chiara’s voice still scratched at her ears like broken glass, her parting words a venom that refused to leave her veins.She didn’t return to the ballroom. Instead, she wandered through the halls of the Sanchiano estate, heels in hand, silk dress brushing against polished floors as her chest ached with emotion. She found herself in the old reading room—m, dimly lit, still, and lined with the scent of history and leather-bound secrets.Roberto Sanchiano was already there.He sat in a deep armchair, a glass of amaro in one hand, his sharp eyes catching her the moment she entered. He didn’t speak at first. Just observed her, the furrow in her brow, the tremble she tried to hide.“You remind me so much of your mother,” he said quietly, setting the glass aside. “Especially when you’re furious.”Talana tried to laugh, but it came out as a bitter breath. “She wouldn’t have stood there and let
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