LOGINCharli D’Amico never expected to become the captive of a Syndicate kingpin. Elijah Holder is the Head of the Snake. Ruthless, powerful, and feared by everyone who knows his name. He is her captor. She should hate him. She should want nothing more than to escape. Instead, Charli falls hopelessly in love with the man holding her prisoner, pulling her sisters into a world of dangerous men. Because sometimes the most dangerous man in the room is the one who makes you feel safest.
View MoreCharli
Mom loved it here.
She loved it because, here, the city couldn’t find us. No men in suits, just trees and birds and the lie of safety.
I exhale, forcing her memory away and twirl the dandelion between my fingers. The sun feels soft against my skin but it prickles as soon as the birds go silent. My heart starts to hammer in my chest and I lift my head to watch the sky.
They usually go quiet at the sound of gunshots. Even when they are too far away for my human ears. The grass beneath my feet and between my toes is warm. I could spend hours outside, but the sudden panic in my chest has me picking up the skirts of my dress to head inside.
Our house isn’t close to any neighbors and behind our backyard is a wood that eventually turns into a forest. We don’t mind the isolation much. We used to enjoy it a lot, actually.
Now it just makes me wonder when our bodies will be found six feet under. Valmont City isn’t exactly known for being safe. Not with the Mafia in the East Burough and the black market rumoured to be housed in South End.
Riverview Heights might be one of the few neighborhoods not directly tied to the dark crime in the city, but it is close enough to where we feel its shadow.
I’m walking toward the house when a ruffle of noises catches my attention and I frown as I near the back fence, gasping when I notice a bunny stuck between the post and the fence.
It chatters in panic when it notices my approach.
“Let me help you,” I whisper to it as I kneel beside it.
It jerks away from my touch and I sigh. The wood cuts into the skin around its neck and the sight of blood has me flinching. I should be used to the sight of blood by now, but it still makes my stomach queasy.
“It’s okay,” I try to calm him down, but it only attempts to scurry away.
I decide then to try and cause him as little pain as possible, and pull the fence away from the post as much as I can. It gives him just enough room to wiggle away and run back into the forest.
I wipe the blood that has gotten onto my hand on my dress and walk back to the house. My eyes widen when I catch sight of the clock on the wall.
I’m late for work. I run into my room to grab my shoes, but stop when I notice Jo’s phone on my bed. She had asked me to drop it off to her when I go into work, but time has slipped by without my notice. I won’t have a chance now.
My stomach turns. I am going to have to ask Ali to do it and I am afraid of catching her in one of her moods. Though Jo is the youngest, she is able to handle Ali’s attitude better than I can. It’s probably because that is all Jo really knows. All Jo can rememebr is how Ali turned into a cold, distant person.
She became like our father to survive. To make sure we all survived.
Me? I remember the old Ali. The bright and happy Ali that used to sneak me candy and ice cream when mom had said no.
Mom.
The memory of her burns my heart, but I push the feeling back, refusing to dwell on it. I hate feeling like that. I hate feelings in general.
Mom’s loss was hardest on Ali and she bore the burden of practically raising us when it happened. Watching my sister disintegrate into someone I barely know is mind boggling, but we only have each other.
Ali deserves the entire world. She deserves all the happiness we can give her. It’s her, though, that always pushes it away.
Regardless of the sour nerves in my stomach I find myself knocking on the bathroom door.
“Ali?” I try.
I can hear the water splash in the tub, along with her grunts. The tub squeaks as she moves in it, the sound making me frown. “Ali, what are you doing in there?”
I knock again.
“Fuck Char! Just give me a second!”
I flinch at her tone, biting my lip. Yup, she is definitely in one of her moods. Silence follows, and I struggle to stay still. I bounce on the heels of my feet, wriggling my fingers. I blow out a steady stream of air until my patience wears too thin. “Ali?”
The door flies open and Ali stands there with a frown on her face and her lips in a scowl. Water droplets drip down her face and arms, her body clad in her puffy gray towel.
“What do you want?” She barks, crossing her arms on her chest.
Her dark eyes glare at me and I suddenly feel small and uneasy. I shrink back, wondering if I should just drop off the phone myself and take the reprimand at work.
“Char?” She snaps.
“Jo forgot her phone and asked me if I could drop it off. I said yes, but I’m running late because there was a bunny stuck in the fence in the backyard.”
I show her my blood stained hand and she only rolls her eyes.
“So can you please take it to her?” I plead with my hands interlocked in front of my chest.
She looks at me, deadpanned.
I look back at the clock in the hallway, “I have to leave — ten minutes ago!”
“Fine, I’ll take it to her,” She holds out her hand.
I look down at her hand and smile. “It’s on the table. I really have to go Ali.”
I turn from her, sprinting down the hall.
“Don’t forget your fucking shoes, Char,” She yells before slamming the door shut.
I spin on my heels and run back to my room, finding the shoes I had carelessly left on the floor.
CharliTony walks away, and my whole body locks tight.Elijah doesn’t say anything as he watches him walk away, but I don’t miss the way he clenches his jaw. Without even looking in my direction, he slips his arm around my waist.My heart hammers in my chest. This is way too close for me. His thumb moves. A small, slow drag across the fabric of my dress, right at my hip.I forget how to breathe.A group of men approaches him, and he talks to them. I can’t make out half of their conversation. Something about the stock market and moving money around. It makes so sense to me, and I don’t even have the brain space to tryBecause all I can focus on is that thumb of his.The way it presses, circles, traces. Like it’s meant to calm me. Do I… like this?No one tries to talk to me, and I’m thankful for that at first, and then I’m suddenly left feeling like a piece of decor on Elijah’s arm. More like an object than an actual person.They don’t even look at me. Not really.There are four of them
CharliElijah hooks my hand through the crook of his elbow, and I flinch before I can stop myself.His arm is solid beneath my palm. I can feel the way he tenses his muscle, the way they ripple beneath his jacket. I crane my neck to look up at him, my throat closing. The man feels bigger every time I see him.My heart pounds so loud I’m sure he can hear it. I don’t know if I’m supposed to hold on to him, or just let my hand rest on his arm. I’m scared of doing something wrong.“Stay by my side,” he says under his breath. His voice, though smooth, leaves no room for argument.I nod, because what else do you do when Elijah Holder tells you to do something?I don’t know what we’re walking into exactly. A party at the Museum of Art sounds grand. Not to mention it’s hosted by people like him, that makes my stomach turn in terrifying ways.Am I about to walk into a room full of killers? Syndicate men in suits, who will be polite and smile all while blood stains their hands? I don’t know who
Ali“You know,” I murmur, “if I angled my wrist just right, I could open your ribs like a zipper.”He doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch. “But you won’t.”“Don’t be so sure.”“Because if you do,” he says calmly. “Elijah will have your head, and it won’t matter how much begging your sister does.”I frown, stepping back. My hands tremble from all the rage I cannot let out right now. I want to scream. I want to kill. Instead, I swallow all of it and smile, tight and mean. “You’re enjoying this.”He tilts his head like he’s studying a painting. “I’m enjoying you.”“You’re enjoying my death threats?”His eyes darken. “More than you know.”Jason brushes past me, heading toward the bar like nothing even happened. I follow, ignoring the way eyes slide toward us.When we reach the bar, he leans in close, just enough for his voice to brush my ear. “Stay by my side.”I snort, sharp and bitter. “Fuck you.”He gestures to the bartender for two drinks. “Elijah knows what you look like. If he finds you a
AliI hate the way the museum taunts me as I step out of the taxi.Stupid fucking museum.Charli used to love coming here as a child. She could stare at the paintings for hours and now here I am, paying penance for letting her get in danger’s way.There are so many people here that I have to fight to look normal, as if I’m not struggling to not kill someone. Really important people are here. Politicians, millionares, actors, highly ranked law enforcement. My stomach grows sick, knowing they all have ties to the Syndicate. That’s why they’re here.I hate the red carpet rolled across the stairs, the velvet ropes keeping people in their place. But what I hate the most is that I’m walking straight toward Jason Caravelli.He’s waiting for me at the top of the steps, half-shadowed by the columns. Black suit and a bowtie with his shoes cruelly clean. His hair’s slicked back, his expression unreadable, but those chocolate brown eyes watch me closely.My heels click against the stone as I clim






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.