Rome never wanted anything else but to please his surrogate father, the man who had kept him when the world turned its back on him. Promising to do whatever his old man wished, he found himself walking inside their enemy line as the ‘wolf in sheep’s skin.’ Until the perfect day to finally kill their nemesis came. With his skill and his gun in his hand, he couldn’t be more ready. But what if the door of the room he was hiding in suddenly opened? Surprised about what happened, he wasn’t able to take his eyes off the beauty that instantly appeared on that door. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the ballerina, Margaux, the only woman in this world he wasn’t supposed to love at all. *** ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission, except where permitted by law. This is a work of fiction. Names characters, businesses, songs, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
view moreMARGAUX ALMOST KISSED THE FLOOR AFTER HER HIGH HEELS BROKE. Her mind began cursing from A to Z, regretting why she even chose to wear that pair. She kicked off her heels and watched them glide across the floor a few inches.
Getting to the Montenegro Group's offices had already been a nightmare: a late flight, a long commute, and adverse weather. She even thought God was drunk when he created Manila. Who, in his right mind, would build a civilization in a country with bipolar weather in the first place?Sweaty and exhausted, it took Margaux one more eye-roll to get over her shoes. With her lips tightly pressed together, she picked up the high heels again and let them dangle in her hand. She continued to drag her bags down the marble corridor, passing gigantic artworks one after the other.‘What the... Where’s everyone?’ she asked herself, realizing how hollow that floor was. Other than a single guard outside the building, it was odd that none of their employees were around at all. Shouldn’t their business be open until five?She shrugged her shoulders at the eerie observation. A few seconds later, she reached the grandest door on that floor. She took another deep breath to calm her nerves. Millions and gazillions of thoughts were suddenly rushing through her mind at once. It was just then that she realized how unconsciously she was wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans too. She was becoming anxious.‘Easy now. He is still your dad. You will be fine.' She deeply sighed before raising her hand to knock. However, her hand stopped midair upon noticing her shoes were still dangling from her hand. She dropped her heels and tried wearing them again. She struggled to balance her entire weight but still managed to stand up straight.It was only after those things that she decided to knock again. "This is Margaux. Can I come in?"She swallowed upon hearing her voice echo through the empty hall. She waited for the door to open, but nothing happened. She found that odd, but then, she just shrugged and knocked again—harder this time."Papa? Are you there? "Same silent result.Sensing that something was off, Margaux curiously leaned her ear against the door. She straightened up and balled her fist afterwards. She heard some rustling from inside the room. The sound was low, but enough for her to understand that someone was inside it.She readied herself to give the door the hardest knock she could muster. However, just a few inches before her hand touched the wood, the door in front of her suddenly creaked open, revealing the silhouette of a man behind the little gap.She immediately put her hand down and awkwardly smiled. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she cleared her throat and asked, "Hi. Can I speak with my papa? "She politely offered a handshake to him. Thinking that the man was new to the company and must be wondering who she was, she introduced herself, "I'm Margaux Montenegro. Alejandro's only child. "It was unfortunate that her pleasant introduction didn't fly with the stranger. Instead, he just continued to look down at her silently, without even welcoming her in.That made Margaux slowly pull her hand away. Disappointed with the treatment she was getting, she raised her chin and gave the man a scrutinizing stare from head to foot, then backward.He was wearing black shoes paired with jeans. He also had their company's uniform on, which screamed that he was one of their employees. He was tall. She could tell it by the way her neck strained a little when she looked up at his face. Although he was still mildly hidden behind the door, the way he stared back at her made her feel as if she were choking. His nose was aristocratic, his lips were thin, and he had the coldest pair of amber eyes she had ever seen in her entire life.‘Amber?’ Margaux blinked a couple of times to confirm what she saw. Amber may be a regular thing in other countries, but certainly not in that place."Sorry for bothering you, but could you at least tell my papa that I'm here?" She attempted to break the silence that engulfed them."I just came from a long flight and..." Then she shut her mouth upon noticing that the odd man wasn't listening to anything coming out of her mouth.Finally, reaching the end of her string, Margaux waved her hand dismissively and picked up her luggage again. She bet she would get more sense if she talked to a wall compared to the man.She was already about to step away when something suddenly grabbed her shoulder and, to her shock, stopped her from going anywhere.With her brows knotted, she glanced at what was firmly holding her and then saw a huge bloodied hand desperately trying to cling to her shoulder.'What the—' She was already panicking when she tried to wiggle the hand off. But then his grip on her just got tighter, clearly showing her that he had no plan to let go."Let go!" Let—Oh my God!"and then that was it. Just before she could even take a single step away, the amber-eyed man had already passed out behind her, knocking both of them to the floor as she screamed, "Help!"The sun was soft as it shone over Reiti, Paso, Italy. Just like all the good days inside that villa, the gentle waves hitting the shore could be seen from where the Don sat. The mild breeze was playing with his hair as he silently sipped his wine. Soft white curtains were swaying on every open window too, making them look as if they were dancing peacefully with the mild tune he was humming. Alla mia Amata, of course."Papa?"Alejandro pretended not to see the tiny boy climbing on his lap. Instead, he covered his face harder with the newspaper in his hands, as if he were busy reading it. Nonetheless, his senses were at full alert, and he discreetly lowered one of his legs down to make sure that the child would have something to grab on to and wouldn't fall. Only God could describe how the child's mother turned into a monster whenever the child got hurt."Papa...""I'm reading, Romano," he said, dragging the child's name, copying how the baby dragged his. "Lots of news lately that could
It was the worst battle he had fought. A war where he couldn't tell who was with him and who wasn't. A battle where he had to keep firing his gun while holding his cara and staring death in the face simultaneously.He lost count of the number of bullets his body took for her. His whole body was numbing, but then he just couldn't let go.His mind was empty, unable to recognize who his enemies were. Alejandro's soldiers were fighting like a group of hungry beasts. The group that broke through the gate minutes ago, which he had recognized as Marco's, was just as ferocious.He noticed one of the groups protecting him when he rushed to the parking lot. Some of its soldiers caught bullets for him, willingly giving their lives to assure that he would get where he needed to.He was in so much pain. But it wasn't because of the random bullets digging into his flesh. He knew that pain so well. It wasn't for him, but for Margaux. It was for the child barely holding on inside her.The whole world
"MARGAUX..."Alberta's voice didn't reach her ears when the now-familiar stab crushed her nerves again. Automatically, her hand found the back of her hips, trying to keep them from splitting in two. The drop of sweat that fell on her fist, resting on her lap, looked blurry. Her tummy was in pain—so much pain that she had to burst out of breath to stop herself from groaning."Are you alright?""Are you done talking?" She tightly closed her eyes. She saw double, and it was the last thing she needed."I said, I'm sorry."She didn't reply. She understood what the old woman, kneeling and crying before her, was saying, but then it just wouldn't entirely register with her. More so when everything in her mind was Rome and him alone. All she remembered was that Alberta mentioned something like 'the Don's son and mother.' Or was it mother that she said?Whatever it was, she felt her heart crunch painfully hearing it, but not half as much as the one she was trying to tolerate while sitting there
THE VILLA WAS BUZZING at five in the morning. The scent of food combined with flowers was lingering in the air. The tables—hundreds of them—were carefully wrapped in meticulous white linens. The maids were like bees running back and forth, carrying plates and silverware. Violinists, called out at the most unholy time of the day, were cramming to learn the best and most beautiful music they would ever play: the Alla Mia Amata."You missed the timing; it would mean something different." The Don was in the middle of the crowd, looking down at the poor violinist."S-señor?""It's for my son. Perfect it," he ordered in a cold voice. His amber eyes were piercing, silently warning the musician to get the proper tempo or else it would be the last piece he would play. "You have to perfect it," he gritted, making the musician's knee shake at once with the terror that engulfed him."Y-Yes, señor." The musician barely opened his mouth, reaching for the paper before him to read the complicated n
MICE PLAY IN THE ABSENCE OF CATS. Same as how the envious smaller gods play in the absence of bigger gods. This part happened somewhere between sacred nights and mornings."The Montenegro child has already shown up." A young man gently pushed a pawn across the chessboard. Then, stopping his move right next to the White Queen, he settled the piece and looked up at his competitor."Oh, she did?" His playmate, an older man in his seventies, countered that move by moving the White Queen to eliminate the pawn.That made the young man chuckle. Languidly, he pressed his back against the leather seat he was sitting on. "Yes, Papa. The soldiers found her.""Molto bien..." Satisfaction flooded the old man's voice. He mirrored what his son did. He stretched his back and relaxed, grabbing the wine glass on the table. One sip, and he then asked, "How about God? Did he already show up?""Not yet, papa," the younger man answered, giving his father a brief look before gazing back at the chessboard. "
It was hard to tell if hell was actually a burning place. At three in the morning, hell looked nothing like what the Bible said. It was just pitch black with phone rings and voices.[Hello? She's on her way, God.]"Good."[Should I send the soldiers to meet her?]"Don't. Wait for her to enter our territory."[God?]"He will run after her. Wait for it."...'DRIVING TO THE VILLA. Will talk to Dad. Be back tonight. Love, Margaux'A three-sentence note on the mirror, a little heart smiley, and her name written using her red lipstick were all it took for Rome's mind to melt into broken letters.He was tired, and her arms were warm, so he slept. He should not have.Who would have thought that it would take only a short while for her to slip between his fingers? Like sand seeping down and falling where she shouldn't be?'You lured her...' He blinked his eyes, trying to balance himself as he reached for her name. His fingers were trembling when they touched the cold mirror, hoping that it
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