LOGINMichael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez—the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover. When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous—his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming. Love has never been more lethal.
View MoreMichael's POV
I gripped the bedsheets as I gritted my teeth and buried my face into the soft mattress, feeling Marlo’s sweat falling on my back and soft moans escaping his lips while he continued thrusting with more strength than necessary. "Fuck, you're so tight" he said. I bit back the pain that was building within me and tried my best to endure whatever pain I could feel in my hole. This was all a means to an end. Before I could process my thoughts any further, he turned me around, his muscular arms wrapping around me. He knelt on the bed and raised me to sit on his hard cock. I stared at him, wondering what sex position he intended to do this time. After spending more than twenty minutes servicing his dick and nipples, I was already exhausted. He wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back on his hand and gave me one the ugliest smirk I have ever seen escape the lips of a man. "Ride me until I burst inside you" Marlo said, his breath resting on my face. He brought his lips to mine and I tried to avoid whatever he planned to do, but I wasn’t fast enough. Marlo sucked my lower lip while his tongue evaded my mouth and ran around my walls. "That's enough" I whispered, my disgust beginning to show no matter how much I tried to hide it. Thankfully, he released his hold on my lips and laid back, his hands placed behind his head as his eyes told me to begin the task he has given to me. Ugh. In the darkness, I rolled my eyes, my anger almost simmering beneath the surface. I raised my knees and instead of kneeling down, I squatted over his dick, my momentum building. I began slowly at first then increased my speed and watched as Marlo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstacy. His moans filled my ears and although I hated having sex with him, the fact that I held this much power over him at this instant was enough to make a smile appear on my face. "I'm close. I'm going to cum" he said. He attempted to jerk me off but I threw his hand away from my throbbing dick and allowed him to reach climax. Finally, it was over. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths. The sheets beneath me were damp with sweat, but the warmth of Marlo’s body next to mine made my skin crawl. The room smelled of sweat and whiskey, of regret and desperation. I turned my head slightly, watching him sleep, his face relaxed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. He looked peaceful—satisfied. Meanwhile, I felt nothing but irritation gnawing at the edges of my patience. I hadn’t wanted this. I hadn’t enjoyed a single second of it. But I had needed to do it. Marlo wasn’t just another of Fernando Ramirez’s men—he was one of his highest-ranking lieutenants. He was a man with influence. A man with access. And that access was exactly what I, as well as the FBI, needed if I wanted to bring Fernando down. Fernando Ramirez. Just thinking his name sent a rush of fury through me. His Mafia crime family had spread like a plague across the city, untouchable, operating in the shadows while law enforcement remained powerless. My sister—my only family—had been caught in his violence and she lost her life. A victim of his greed, his brutality. She hadn’t deserved it. She hadn’t deserved any of it. I clenched my jaw, forcing my thoughts back to the present. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help me now. Right now, my priority was getting to that exclusive party Fernando was throwing in a few days. Only his most trusted men would be allowed inside, and Marlo was one of them. That’s why I had done this. But now, I needed Marlo to wake the hell up. I nudged him with my elbow. “Hey.” He didn’t stir. I frowned, shifting to my side and shaking his shoulder. “Marlo.” A tired groan escaped his lips, but he barely opened his eyes. His arm was placed lazily over his stomach, his breathing slow and deep. “Marlo, wake up,” I tried again, this time a little more forceful. “We had a deal, remember?” Nothing. I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling in my chest. “You said you would help me get in,” I reminded him, keeping my voice even. “I need that tag. You said you would vouch for me.” Marlo mumbled something that sounded like nonsense, shifting slightly before settling back into sleep. Useless. I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. There was no point in trying to reason with him right now. He was out cold, probably from the alcohol he had drank earlier. I would have to handle this myself. My eyes flicked to the bedside table where his identification tag lay—his ticket to the party. His access to Fernando. Carefully, I slid out of bed, moving with the precision of a trained agent. My muscles were tense as I reached for the tag, keeping my movements slow, deliberate. One wrong move, and I would wake him. The metal tag was cool against my fingertips as I picked it up, slipping it into the pocket of my discarded jeans on the floor. I dressed quickly, shoving my arms into my shirt, buttoning it hastily. As I reached for the door, my heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. I had done it. I had what I needed. But the moment I pulled the door open, every cell in my body froze. Standing in the doorway, his figure looming in the dimly lit hallway, was Fernando Ramirez. His dark eyes locked onto mine, unreadable, terrifyingly calm. He was taller than I expected, broader, his presence suffocating. The air around him felt heavy, charged with something dangerous. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. His lips curled slightly—not quite a smirk, but something close. “Well, well well,” he said, his voice deep, smooth, laced with quiet authority. “Going somewhere?” My heart slammed against my ribs, but I forced my face to remain neutral, my mind racing. I was in trouble. Big trouble.Marlo’s POVThe sound Michael made when I pressed his leg did something to me.It was not satisfaction or relief. It was frustration because even through that level of pain, he still didn’t break.He screamed, he cried, but he did not talk and that made me angrier than if he had insulted me.He lay there on the bed now, shaking, his breath coming in uneven gasps, sweat soaking into the pillow beneath his head. His hands clutched the sheets like they were the only thing holding him to the world and still he looked at me with defiance.I paced the room slowly, trying to breathe through the heat building inside my chest. The room felt smaller than usual, the air heavier, like the walls themselves were watching this unfold and judging me for it.“He’s lying, he knows where they went. He’s protecting them” Anabelle snapped from the corner. “I know,” I said quietly.Michael let out a weak laugh that turned into a cough.“I really don’t,” he whispered hoarsely but I ignored him.My mind wa
Michael’s POVI woke up feeling like my body did not belong to me. Every breath felt borrowed and every movement felt like punishment.My eyes opened slowly, painfully, and the first thing I saw was the ceiling of Fernando’s guest room. I knew it immediately from the carved wood panels, the old chandelier that never hung straight and the faint smell of the air freshener.My head turned slightly, and pain ripped through my leg so violently that my vision blurred for a second and a very low groan escaped my lips before I could stop it.That was when I noticed Marlo with his dark eyes fixed on me.He was standing at the foot of the bed, arms folded across his chest, staring at me with an expression I had never seen before.It was not rage or grief. It was something colder and heavier.“You’re awake,” he said quietly.My throat felt dry. I tried to speak, but nothing came out at first.I swallowed painfully.“Marlo.”He didn’t respond to his name. He just kept staring at me like he was st
Marlo’s POVI had never sat in Fernando’s chair before, not once, not even as a joke, not even when he wasn’t in the room.That's how much I respected him.That chair had always felt sacred, like it carried a presence even when it was empty. It felt like Fernando’s spirit lived in the leather and wood but now I was in it and it felt wrong.Fernando’s study still smelled like him and that made it hard to stay here but I neede to.The curtains were half-drawn, and the desk lamp cast a dull yellow light that didn’t quite reach the corners of the room. The shadows stayed there, thick and stubborn, like memories that refused to leave.I leaned back slowly and exhaled.Everything hurt , not physically but inside of me.Michael’s face kept flashing in my head. The way he had stood in that motel parking lot. The way he had looked at me, not with hatred, not with fear but with defiance, guilt and something I didn’t want to admit looked a lot like grief.I slammed my fist lightly against the ar
Michael’s POVThe ride back to the mansion felt longer than any journey I had ever taken in my life.Not because of the distance, but because of what waited at the end of it.I sat in the back seat between Emilio and Mortis, my head resting against the cold window glass. Every bump in the road sent a violent tremor through my injured leg, and each tremor felt like someone driving a nail deeper into bone.At first, I tried to keep quiet but after the third pothole and the fourth wave of pain, I stopped pretending.Nick had stitched the wound carefully but Emilio and Mortis hadn’t had that luxury when they tackled me to the ground outside the motel.They had saved my life and in doing so, they had ripped the wound open.I could feel blood seeping slowly through the bandage again, spreading under the fabric of my trousers.Mortis leaned forward slightly from his seat, looking down at my leg.“He’s bleeding through.”“I know,” Emilio muttered from the driver’s seat without looking back. H
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
reviews