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The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 16
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2025-11-26 08:00:02The morning sun filtered through Russo Tower’s high windows, casting long shadows as Vincent and Chris descended to the dungeon.
Vincent’s arm was a steel band around Chris’s waist, his grip possessive, almost desperate, as if the ghost of the Volkovs’ kidnapping still haunted him.Chris leaned into it, steady despite the fading bruises on his skin, his presence grounding Vincent’s lingering madness.The dungeon reeked of blood and despair, the air heavy with the Volkovs’ defeat. Dmitri, Natasha, Yuri, and Alexei hung in chains, blood-stained and battered, their empire reduced to ash by Vincent’s wrath and Lena’s digital sorcery.Chris surveyed the captives, their faces pale under grime and dried blood.“They’re a mess,” he said softly, glancing at Vincent. “Clean them up. They’re no good to you dead or broken.” His voice carried a quiet authority, and Vincent, the ruthless mafia boss, nodded like an obedient puppy, his love for Chris
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Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 22
The workshop’s high lingered as Dave and Carla left Matilde’s studio, the promise of future roles fueling their steps. The city buzzed around them, but their focus was on the path ahead, Dave’s career gaining traction, free from the strings of his past. Meanwhile, Henry and Travis were across town, wrapping up the music show filming. But in the entertainment world, victories were fragile, and shadows like Victor’s never stayed dormant for long.Victor, the industry titan whose influence had once propped up Dave’s early career, hadn’t forgotten the slight of being sidelined. His disinterest in Dave had been a strategic retreat, not a surrender. Word of Dave’s workshop success and his upcoming role in Carlos’s film reached Victor’s ears through industry whispers, and his pride bristled. Dave, the talent he’d molded, was carving a path without him, and Carla, his former plaything, had dared to cut ties. Vic
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 21
The bedroom door creaked open, and Henry and Dave emerged, their hair mussed, clothes slightly askew, but their faces glowing with sated contentment. The living room came into view, and they froze. There, tangled naked on the sofa, were Carla and Travis, limbs entwined, lost in the quiet aftermath of their own intimacy. Henry’s lips quirked into a soft smile. Without a word, he grabbed a spare blanket from a nearby chair and draped it gently over the sleeping pair, a silent gesture of care. Dave watched, his heart warming. “C’mon,” Henry whispered, nudging Dave toward the kitchen. They raided the fridge for a midnight snack.The night’s intensity faded into easy companionship as they ate, then returned to the bedroom to rest, leaving Carla and Travis to their quiet moment.Morning broke with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Travis stirred first, his internal
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 20
The penthouse thrummed with the distant, uninhibited sounds of Henry and Dave, their passion spilling through the open bedroom door, a raw symphony of moans and rhythmic creaks. In the living room, Carla and Travis sat close, the air between them charged with a new understanding. The weight of their earlier conversation, about Dave’s tangled past, Henry’s vulnerability, and the industry’s ruthless underbelly, had stripped away pretenses, leaving them exposed yet connected. Carla’s tear-streaked face softened under Travis’s gentle gaze, his hand still resting on her cheek from wiping away her tears. The alcohol in their systems blurred the edges, but the moment felt sharp, real.Travis’s words echoed in Carla’s mind: Stick with me. I don’t judge. For the first time in years, she felt seen, not as a manager, not as a pawn in Victor’s games, but as herself. Her heart raced, not from seduction or strategy, but from the possibili
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 19
The night’s celebration spilled over to the glitzy club, with the public’s prying eyes. But the open displays of affection between Henry and Dave, hands lingering too long, glances too heated, had drawn Carla’s sharp warning. “Paparazzi,” she’d hissed, her voice cutting through the champagne haze. “You’re begging for a headline.” Now, in the privacy of Dave’s penthouse, the restraint was gone.No sooner had the door clicked shut than Henry and Dave were on each other, lips crashing, hands pulling at clothes as they stumbled toward Dave’s bedroom. The door stayed ajar, and soon the sounds of their passion, moans, gasps, the rhythmic creak of the bed, filled the penthouse, unfiltered and raw. Carla and Travis, left in the sprawling living room, exchanged a glance. It was their first time alone together in such an intimate setting, the air charged with the distant echoes of their stars’ reckless abandon.Travis leaned
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 18
Travis leaned back in the booth at the upscale restaurant, the clink of glasses and low hum of chatter fading as he watched the trio across from him, Dave, Henry, and Carla, celebrate Dave’s acceptance into Matilde’s workshop. The dinner was Henry’s idea, a rare moment of pause in their relentless schedules, and Travis, dragged along as Henry’s plus-one, felt like an outsider peering into a world he’d only glimpsed. His perspective on them was sharp, colored by years of navigating the industry’s underbelly, his loyalty to Henry, and a growing unease about the tangled bonds unfolding before him.Henry was radiant, his laughter warm as he slung an arm around Dave, his pride palpable. “To Dave,” he said, raising his glass, “for proving he’s got the chops, no strings attached.” Dave flushed, his usual polished mask softened, his eyes catching Henry’s with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, love, maybe, though Travis wasn’t sure he w
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire Tangled in Ambition: Part 17
Henry stepped into the recording studio, the air humming with anticipation. Travis trailed behind, already rattling off schedules, but Henry’s focus was on the mic waiting for him. Jamal and Paulina were there, a surprise visit, their presence a jolt of validation. “Kill it, man,” Jamal said, clapping Henry’s shoulder. Paulina flashed a grin, her voice warm. “Heard the buzz. This single’s gonna blow up. Good luck.” They left as quickly as they came, their schedules pulling them away, but their words lingered, fueling Henry’s fire.The single was raw, a piece of his soul poured into lyrics about Dave, veiled enough for the world, but unmistakable to the man himself. Every chord, every shift in tone, was a confession, a map of their stolen moments, their tangled hearts. Henry stepped to the mic, guitar in hand, and let it flow. No take-twos, no stumbles. His voice carried the weight of Dave’s tear
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