DARK DESIRES OF US (TWISTED OBSESSION)

Matteo left his father’s sitting room without saying a word, they clung on his chest with so much weight. He moved upstairs to his room, —on the hallway,large portraits of Romano were arranged, his painted eyes seemed to judge him, past the corridor where men in dark suits stood with dark shades covering their eyes, almost like people who could buy time. Immediately he got to his room,he fell onto the bed the way a man folds a letter he no longer wants to read: careful, slow, as if he had lost himself.Night stared at him through the window. Matteo stared at the ceiling as if it could answer the question his father had thrown like a gunshot: marry a girl he had bought. Marry. The word sounded like broken glasses to him, like a coin dropped into an empty fountain. He replayed memories— Dominic’s soft deep voice, the particular curl of Dominic’s mouth when he laughed, the way Dominic’s hands brushed his body and how it made him wet his underwear. A warmth spread across his body, then be

“Why are you always so close to the Don’s son?”Dominic froze at the sound of Marco’s voice. He was about to open his car when he saw the capo coming out just from behind his car and stood right beside him, one ankle crossed over the other like a man with all the time in the world. The faint glow of his cigarette lit Marco’s rough face, smoke spreading lazily into the night air. His eyes, sharp and calculating, and fixed directly on him.For a split second, Dominic’s pulse quickened. He adjusted his tie slowly, forcing his expression into the calm mask of a professional lawyer. “Marco,” he said evenly, unlocking his car. “I wasn’t aware I had to explain my every movement to you.” Or are you now my body guard?Marco leaned off the car, flinging his cigarette to the ground. He stepped closer, too close, the smell of smoke and leather heavy between them. “Maybe not,” Marco said, his voice low, suspicious. “But I’ve been observing. The way you and Matteo move when you talk. The way you lo

“Get up,” Dante Romano’s deep voice cracked like a whip as he barged into Valentina’s room without knocking. His shadow stretched across the floor, covering the little light that filtered through her curtains.Valentina froze where she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing out her long brown hair. The brush fell from her hand, immediately she heard his voice.She lifted her face slightly, meeting his cold, possessive stare. “What do you want now?” she asked, though her voice trembled despite her effort to sound strong.Dante smirked, closing the door behind him. “Be ready for me tonight.” His words were simple to him, but the sight of his face made her feel so irritated. “And be ready on Saturday—” he took a step closer, lowering his voice—“your engagement to my son will be arranged.”Valentina’s heart skipped. Her engagement? Her lips parted, but no words came.Dante leaned closer, his hand brushing a strand of her hair back with chilling gentleness. “Don’t waste energy fighting it. Y

The emergency theatre filled with tension, the sharp smell of antiseptic and blood filled the thick atmosphere. Dr. Harris could feel the heat on his forehead, standing close to Dominic’s almost lifeless body on the operating table. His gloved hands moved fast, clamping a bleeding artery as monitors kept beeping fast each second. “We’re losing him!” he barked, his voice cutting through the theater. Across the table, Dr. Patel narrowed her eyes, her hands steady as she sucked blood from the wound. “You can’t dare give up now, Harris! Increase the saline drip—now!” she snapped, her tone sharp enough to make a nurse flinch. Harris kept staring at her knowing fully well they’ll lose Dominic, his jaw tight. “I’m doing everything I can, Patel. You think I want him to die?” The two doctors looked each other in the eyes for a split second, their frustration becoming static at that moment. Dominic’s chest barely rose, his skin looking pale under the bright lights. Blood pumped faster than the

“Who the fuck are you?” Marco’s voice was sharp and suspicious, sounding through the quiet apartment like a blade. He stood at the door, his eyes steady on the young man who opened the door. “Have we met before? Where do I know you from?”The guy froze. His lips parted, but he didn’t say a word. His body trembled a little—caught between fear and guilt. He looked toward the hallway, as if looking for a way out. Marco took a slow, deliberate step forward, scanning him from head to toe.“Can’t you talk?” Marco asked, his voice sounding a bit calm but harsh that came before chaos. “Don’t waste my time, boy. Where is Matteo?”Matteo stood still, he was still inside the bathroom when he heard Marco’s voice. His heart slammed against his ribs. How do these people find me? he thought. Can I not breathe for one second without my father spying on my life?He quickly dried himself with a towel, thinking through a dozen excuses in his head. Before Marco could shout again, Matteo stepped out, forci