Michael 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.Michael’s POVMy pulse hammered in my ears as I stared at Alan, his body crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud after Fernando's fist collided with his jaw."Stay the hell out of my business," Fernando snarled, his voice a low growl. He loomed over Alan like an animal cornering its prey, daring him to move.Alan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes fierce and unyielding. "This isn't just your business anymore, Don Fernando," he said, his voice thick with defiance. "You don’t own Michael. He’s not a possession. He’s a person—""Shut your damn mouth!" Fernando’s voice cracked like a whip through the air, sharp and venomous.I moved forward, my breath caught in my throat. "Fernando, that’s enough! You’ve done enough!" My voice was tight.But Fernando didn’t listen. His focus was entirely on Alan.I could feel the heat radiating off him as his body tensed with suppressed violence.Servants and guards had begun to gather around, forming a hesitant circle at the
Fernando's POV I paused by the rose hedge. My eyes locked on them almost immediately.Then it came.Alan told Michael to leave me.Every muscle in my body locked. The world stopped.I felt the anger surge like wildfire through my veins, consuming every thought. I wasn’t even aware of my movement until my feet carried me closer to them.Michael’s face drained of color when he caught sight of me. His eyes widened, a flash of guilt flitting across his expression.I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “I see. What an interesting conversation.”Michael’s breath hitched. His eyes darted between Alan and me, looking lost, helpless, like a man caught between two worlds he didn’t know how to navigate. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, and that drove me mad.Alan, however, didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer to Michael, seemingly oblivious to the tension thickening in the air. “Fernando—”“No.” I raised a hand, cutting Michael off before he could attem
Michael’s POV The garden was still. Too still.Everything should have felt peaceful, but the only thing stirring inside me was a bitter frustration.I dragged my feet along the winding stone path, hands buried deep in the pockets of my jacket, eyes scanning nothing.Each step was heavier than the last, as if I carried the weight of every secret Fernando ever fed me, every lie he forced me to live with, every memory he burned into my brain with those cold, commanding eyes.And then there were the footsteps.Two sets. Always two.I didn’t have to look to know they were there. They were the guards Fernando had assigned to me.I sighed and came to a slow stop. The guards stopped too, their boots clicking against the stones."Do you guys ever get tired of playing watchdog?" I asked, my voice tight, barely masking my irritation.No answer.I turned slowly to face them, my expression somewhere between defiance and exhaustion. "I said, do you ever get tired of following me around like sha
Ashley’s POV I was locking my apartment door when I heard her voice, sharp as ever, slicing through the quiet of the hallway.“Heading out already, Agent Ashley?”I turned, already expecting her.There stood Mrs. Langston, my neighbor from across the hall, wrapped in her signature pink robe with a feathered trim that had seen better days. Her hair was rolled tight in bright curlers, and in her hand was the ever-present mug that declared #1 Grandma, despite her never having mentioned any grandchildren.She leaned against her doorframe, her eyes gleaming with unspoken questions. She was harmless, mostly. But today, her prying nature rubbed me the wrong way.“Morning, Mrs. Langston.” I nodded politely. “Just heading to the office. Early day.”Her brow rose, clearly unconvinced. “Must be something important. I saw you pacing around your living room window earlier. Thought maybe you were arguing with someone.”I gave a small laugh that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Just work stress. Yo
Michael’s POVI couldn’t sleep. Again.The room was cold—colder than it should have been. The kind of cold that seeped under your skin and curled around your bones. I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands clasped so tightly they trembled. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. Every second felt like a weight on my chest, an invisible pressure that only grew with time. I wasn’t disturbed by the silence; I was haunted by the uncertainty.What the hell was Fernando discussing with Ashley?The message I had seen on his phone wouldn’t leave me alone. It played in my head like a song stuck on repeat, each line more damning than the last.Ashley’s name was right there. No denying it. No mistaking it. I raked a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the roots as if pain could bring clarity. "What promise, Ashley?" I whispered into the emptiness. "What the hell did you get yourself into?"The longer I stayed silent, the louder the questions screamed inside my h
Fernando's POV I adjusted the cuff of my sleeve, watching the city blur past through the bulletproof windows of Santiago's armored car. The sun had barely set, casting the streets in the gold colours of early evening.Santiago sat beside me, silent, his face unreadable. But I didn’t need him to speak. I already knew what he was thinking. This meeting tonight had to go smoothly. No surprises. No betrayals. Just a clean expansion of my empire into a part of the city that had been held too long by degenerates pretending to be kings.We turned into an abandoned industrial yard. The headlights cut through dust and shadow, revealing three other vehicles already parked in a loose circle. The gang we were here to meet, Los Lobos, were territorial, unpredictable, and always smelling like cheap tobacco and even cheaper loyalty.Mortis, Marlo, and Emilio were already waiting on site, dressed sharp but dangerous. Santiago's men followed us, fanned out, watching every shadow with their f
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