Currently working on the next six chapters⦠and letās just say, some of them are getting real spicy. Hihi. š Since this book ends this month, Iām curiousāhow do you think itāll end? Whoāll be the winner, and whoāll be left broken? šš
No spoilers from me, but Iāll be watching the guesses. šCurrently working on the next six chapters⦠and letās just say, some of them are getting real spicy. Hihi. š Since this book ends this month, Iām curiousāhow do you think itāll end? Whoāll be the winner, and whoāll be left broken? šš No spoilers from me, but Iāll be watching the guesses. š
RENATO MARINO The black sedan rolled up the gravel path like a hearse.Gravel crunched beneath the tires as we approached the old cathedral, abandoned decades ago, resurrected tonight for one purpose only. The iron gates were already open. Men stood outside in silence, posted like statues. Armed. Alert. Ready to kill for the men inside.Salvio was behind the wheel, he seemed tense. Giovanni sat on my right, quiet as stone. Nikola and the rest of my men were circling the perimeter, on standby, fingers on triggers. The air reeked of danger and old incense, holy ground tainted by blood oaths and ambition.āThis is it,ā Salvio muttered. āNo backing out.āāThere never was,ā I said gently, slipping my gloves on.A man in a grey coat stepped toward the car. He leaned in, voice low.āOnly one goes in with you, sir. Rules of the table.āI looked at Giovanni. He gave a single nod, no words needed.Salvio looked at me. āTry not to die, boss.ā"I'm not dying today, dawg." I smirked, shoving my h
JAYCE BECKETT The silence in the car was the kind that made your ears ring. It sat between us like fog, thick and choking.I kept my eyes locked on the house across the street. Two-story. Beige stucco, big hedges, quiet streetātypical suburban camouflage for a snake in a suit. A banker with blood money on his hands and a fake smile for every soul he screwed over.I hated him with every fiber of my being.Not just for what he did, but for what he reminded me of.Men in power, hiding behind paper walls, making innocent people suffer.It was getting to me. I knew it. And Marcelo knew it too.He was in the driver's seat, slouched like he owned the world, one leg propped up, chewing a toothpick like it owed him money. He hadnāt shut up since we parked.āI swear to God,ā he said, āif this guy doesnāt show face in the next hour, I'm going up there and dragging him out myself.āI didnāt answer.āJayce,ā he called, dragging out the syllables, ādonāt make me start singing. You know Iāll do it.
RENATO MARINO We got downstairs and none of the kids were there.The air was thickālike grief had a scent, like mourning seeped into the tiles, the walls, the fucking bricks of this place. It didnāt matter that the sun was up. There was no warmth in this house today.Marcelo was already outside, waiting by the fountain. His hair was messy, his shirt half-buttoned, like he hadnāt even tried to look presentable. In his arms was the dog, Tim, shivering, limp.āHe's not okay,ā he said, gently setting the dog down on the marble floor.I watched the sick body twitch, once, then go still again. His breathing was shallow. His eyes unfocused. That loyal mutt that had barked at every goddamn guest, that had growled at strangers and followed Chocolate around like a shadow⦠was now barely holding on.I swallowed the tightness in my throat and glanced at Marcelo.He was crouched by the dog again, rubbing his ears, his mouth twisted in that same stubborn grimace he wore when something actually got
JAYCE BECKETT I didnāt sleep.Not really. I mustāve passed out at some point, because when I blinked open my eyes, the light was already spilling through the curtains and I was lying on my sideāstill in my clothes from the previous day, still laying on his chest. Renato's arm was wrapped around me like a safety belt, like I was something fragile, something he needed to hold in place before I shattered completely.But I already had.I didnāt cry again. There were no more tears left.I was dry inside. Hollow. Just a body curled up in another body, pretending I hadnāt met that lady the previous evening. Pretending I hadnāt heard it. Pretending I hadnāt died a little in that hotel room, standing there while Grace told me what mightāve happened to my sister.Might. That word had never hurt me before.But now it tasted like blood in my mouth.Renato shifted behind me, and I felt his breath against the back of my neck."Morning," he said softly.I didnāt answer.He didnāt push. Just sighe
RENATO MARINO The drive back home was silent.No music. No words. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of Jayce's jacket as he curled tighter into himself beside me.His head was turned toward the window, one leg pulled up on the seat, eyes unfocused, not even watching the passing streets, just⦠staring through them. Like he wasnāt even here anymore. Like the truth Grace gave him had reached down inside his chest and ripped out whatever was left of him.I didnāt blame him.I couldn't even bring myself to blame him for being like this.Hell, even I was struggling to keep my rage on a leash. If I were him, and it was my sister who was in that situation, I might have done way worse. Like, maybe punch myself in the face before I go raining war on the bastard who did it.But Jayce, I could tell he really loved that girl, and he probably mustn't have thought Yuri might do something like that to fuck with him... he kidnapped her, and she might be missing a kidney? Just one