LOGINDesperation forces Elena to work as a waitress in a notorious underground nightclub to cover her son's mounting medical bills. Her mundane yet precarious life takes a dangerous turn one night when several drunk patrons corner her. Before things spiral out of control, a shadowy figure intervenes — her ex-boyfriend, now a powerful and feared mafia boss, Damien Moretti. Years ago, their love was a whirlwind of passion and chaos, abruptly severed by betrayal and secrets. Now standing before her in a tailored suit with an air of cold authority, Damien isn’t the man she once knew — he’s darker, more ruthless, and unapologetically possessive. Now, he’s no longer a charming rebel but a man who bends the world to his will. His terms are chilling yet inescapable: “You belong to me. Always have. Always will. And I’ll make you remember that.” Damien offers a deal Elena can’t easily refuse — become his mistress, and he’ll wipe out all her debts. Despite her defiant spirit, Elena is torn between pride and a mother’s fierce love. Elena faces an impossible choice while hiding a secret: Draco, her five-year-old son, is Damien's child. Damien's obsession with control intensifies as he becomes increasingly possessive of Elena, keeping her under constant watch. While others label his love psychopathic, She struggles to deny the magnetic pull he still has over her. His dangerous lifestyle threatens to drag her back into a world of blood and shadows, but he’s the only one who can save her son. As their twisted relationship reignites, Damien's enemies close in, putting both Elena and Draco at risk. When Damien uncovers the truth about Draco, his possessiveness reaches a fever pitch — no one will touch what belongs to him, not even fate!
View MoreChaos did not announce itself politely.It tore through the safe house like a living thing—screams of warning, boots pounding against floors, the sharp metallic click of weapons being loaded. Orders overlapped. Radios crackled. The illusion of control fractured under the weight of reality.Damien Moretti stood at the center of it.He moved like a man born for this kind of storm—calm, precise, lethal. His voice cut through the noise with brutal authority.“South corridor, lock it down. Nobody fires unless they have a clear shot. I want eyes on every exit—now.”Men snapped into motion without hesitation.But Elena barely heard him.The first gunshot rang out again—closer this time—and something inside her snapped clean in two.Her mind did not weigh options.It did not calculate odds.It went to one place only.Draco.“Mama—!”She didn’t know if she imagined the sound of his voice or if it was memory clawing its way into panic. Either way, her body was already moving.“Elena—wait!”Nico
For a moment, the world slowed. Not stopped—never stopped—but softened, like everything sharp had been wrapped in cotton.Above them, the stars burned quietly, distant and indifferent. Insects hummed in the brush beyond the porch, their rhythm steady and ancient. The faint scent of pine drifted through the air, mingling with smoke and damp earth, grounding Elena in the present when her thoughts threatened to run too far ahead.Nico flicked the cigarette away into the gravel, watching the ember arc briefly through the dark before dying. He crushed it under his shoe with a deliberate twist, like he was extinguishing more than just nicotine.He turned slightly toward her. Not fully. Not intrusively. Just enough that the shift mattered. His voice, when he spoke, was lower now—stripped of humor, stripped of the teasing edge he wore like armor.“Whatever happens tomorrow,” he said, “you won’t face it alone. I promise.”The words weren’t dramatic. He didn’t dress them up or hedge them with c
Elena tilted her head back, letting the stars fill her vision.They were sharper out here, away from city lights—cold pinpricks scattered across an endless dark. She used to make wishes on nights like this. Silly, half-hearted things she never expected the universe to answer. Safety. Love. A life that didn’t feel like borrowed time.Her breath fogged faintly as she spoke.“Do you ever wonder what life would be like,” she asked quietly, “if we weren’t in this world?”The question wasn’t sudden. It had been circling inside her all night, pressing against her ribs until it needed air.Beside her, Nico let out a low, almost amused chuckle. He lifted the cigarette back to his lips, took a slow drag, then exhaled deliberately. The smoke unraveled as it rose, thinning and disappearing into the sky like it had never existed at all.“I don’t let myself think about things I can’t have,” he said.Not bitter. Not defensive. Just… practiced.Elena nodded slowly, absorbing that. The words landed he
Night settled over the safe house like a held breath.Not the gentle kind of quiet that came with safety, but the oppressive stillness that followed too many storms survived and too many left waiting. The kind that pressed against the ears until silence itself felt loud.Elena lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.The faint outline of a crack ran diagonally above her—something she hadn’t noticed before tonight. Or maybe she had, and her mind had simply refused to linger on small imperfections when larger ones threatened to tear everything apart.From the next room, Draco’s breathing drifted through the thin wall. Slow. Even. Trusting.It anchored her.She closed her eyes, but the darkness behind them only sharpened her thoughts.Damien.The way his voice had softened without effort when he spoke to Draco. The way his body had angled instinctively between danger and her son, even when there was no immediate threat. The promise he had given so easily—Always—without knowing the weight






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