MasukLuca Moretti doesn’t ask. He takes. The ruthless Italian mafia boss has crushed empires and buried enemies without a flicker of remorse. But one man has always stood just out of reach—his greatest rival, the untouchable billionaire Damian Laurent. Until Luca discovers Damian’s greatest weakness: his son. Adrien Laurent is beautiful, defiant, and far too tempting for his own good. Dragged from his sheltered world straight into Luca’s dark empire, the younger man fights like a wildcat, eyes blazing with fury even as his body betrays him under Luca’s rough hands. What begins as cold-blooded revenge quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. The more Adrien resists, the more Luca hungers to break him… to claim him… to own every inch of the man who was supposed to be nothing but leverage. Now the lines are blurring. The game has changed. Luca becomes obsessed with the way Adrien trembles and begs, obsessed with breaking him, owning him, fucking him until the only name he screams is his captor’s. He stole him to destroy his enemy. Now he’ll burn everything down before he ever lets his pretty little obsession go.
Lihat lebih banyakCHAPTER 120 LUCA I don’t call him. I tell myself it’s because I’m giving him space. That’s a lie. The truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’d even say. “Boss, you good?” Damon’s voice cuts through the room as he stands by the door, wary like I might explode any second. I grunt, downing another glass of whiskey. “Do I look good?” He hesitates. “No.” “Then there’s your answer.” I pour another drink, my hand barely steady. The amber liquid sloshes over the rim and stains the table. I don’t wipe it. Damon shifts. “You’ve been at this for three days straight.” “And?” I snap, finally looking up at him. My eyes burn. My head pounds. “Do I need your permission to drink in my own house now?” “No,” he says slowly. “But I do think you need someone to knock sense into you.” “Then go get Matteo,” I mutter bitterly. “That’s usually his job.” “He already tried,” Damon says quietly. “You punched him.” I laugh—harsh, humorless. “He deserved it.” “For what? Telling you the truth?” Damo
CHAPTER 119 ADRIEN He didn’t come back. Not that night. Not the next morning. Not at all. It shouldn’t bother me. I keep repeating that like a prayer. It shouldn’t bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. But every time I walk past the hallway that leads to his wing and see the door shut, silent, untouched, something twists inside my chest. I sit on the couch, elbows resting on my knees, staring at nothing. The clock ticks too loudly. The house is too quiet. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. “He used you. Again.” The thought slides in easily, cruel and familiar. Because it’s true. What else did I expect? For him to stay? For him to talk? For him to explain why he kissed me like it meant something and then vanished like it didn’t? I laugh under my breath. It’s not funny. It sounds broken. I throw myself into work. Surveillance. Weapons checks. Planning routes. Overseeing raids. My body moves through the motions like it’s programmed to, but my mind is somewhere
CHAPTER 118 LUCA 3 days later “You’re telling me Damian hit our shipment?” I growled, slamming my fist into the table hard enough to make glasses jump. Matteo didn’t even flinch. “Yeah. Last night. One of our ports near Naples. They blew up two containers and hijacked the third.” “Do we have footage?” I demanded. Damon leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Nothing clear. But the men on the ground heard Russian accents. And Damian’s guys were seen in the area earlier.” My blood ran hot. I pushed back from the table so hard the chair toppled. “I’m done playing games with that bastard.” “Luca,” Matteo warned. “You need to think—” “I’ve done enough thinking,” I snapped. “I’m taking soldiers. Tonight.” Damon muttered, “Here we go again,” under his breath. I shot him a glare. “Gear up. Both of you. If Damian wants war, he’s going to choke on it.” We hit Damian’s compound just before dawn. The gates didn’t stand a chance against the explosives. My men moved like shadows, flood
CHAPTER 117 LUCA I caught up to him in the alley behind the club. The rain hadn’t stopped. It came down in sheets, soaking both of us as if the sky was trying to wash away the mess we’d made inside. Adrien was already halfway to his car when I grabbed his arm and yanked him back. He spun around, eyes blazing. “What the hell do you want?” “You,” I growled. “To talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Bullshit.” My fingers tightened on his arm. “Two weeks, Adrien. Two goddamn weeks of you pretending I don’t exist, and now you’re out here letting some random piece of trash put his hands on you—” He jerked free, voice cutting like glass. “Because it’s none of your business, Luca!” “The hell it isn’t!” I stepped closer. “You think I can just stand there and watch that?” “Yes!” he shot back. “Because that’s what normal people do when it’s not their business! You don’t own me, Luca. You don’t get to beat people half to death just because you’re jealous.” “Jealous?” I laughed bitte
CHAPTER 89ADRIEN The first thing that pulled me out of the black haze was the sound of pounding. It was muffled at first, blending into the echo of my dreams, but then it grew sharper, closer, a relentless hammering against my door.“Adrien,” Lucien’s voice cut through, tight with worry. “Open th
CHAPTER 86ADRIENThe facility still smelled like bleach and despair. I didn’t even make it past the waiting room. The second I saw the therapist’s door, my chest locked, my throat burned, and my legs… yeah, they weren’t cooperating.Luc
CHAPTER 88ADRIEN The living room was too quiet. Too neat. Too still. Weeks of therapy had made me… better, at least on the surface. I could eat without gagging. I could sleep four hours straight sometimes. I could look at myself in the mirror without wanting to shatter it.But tonight, the silenc
CHAPTER 79LUCA“Adrien collapsed,” Matteo said the moment he walked in, not even bothering to knock.I didn’t look up from the table. “And?”“He had a fever. He threw up. Nearly fell down the stairs.”My fingers continued to trace the edge of the blueprints spread across the table—Damian’s souther
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