ログインFor years, Raven survived the Gonzales crime family’s control. But just as her debt nears its end, she’s forced into marriage with Marcus Gonzales—their dangerous, magnetic heir. Marcus breaks rules, rivals, and women. But he doesn’t want Raven broken. He wants her consumed. When a long-buried secret tied to her father’s death resurfaces, Raven becomes the key to a war between syndicates. And as Marcus’s obsession turns to something darker than love, she must decide if she’ll run from the monster… or rule beside him.
もっと見るThe night broke against the city like a wave against glass, very quiet, yet fractured, almost elegant in its ruin.Matteo had always liked cities at night. The way the light fell across wet streets, the hum of traffic beneath everything, the sound of people living, lying, trying. It was easier to disappear in noise than in silence. And lately, that’s all he wanted, to vanish.But Raven had made that impossible.They’d been in the new safehouse for three weeks, maybe four; the days blended together. Raven and Elias had adjusted faster than he did, or maybe they just pretended better. The walls were thin, the air smelled of old cigarettes and fresh paint, and the TV never worked right. It was a place built for ghosts.And now Raven had gone and stirred one up.He had told her not to take that meeting,he had told her three times. “We’re supposed to be invisible,” he’d said. “You don’t meet anyone. Not contacts, not dealers, not old friends.”But she had gone anyway.By the time he got th
The city never really slept, it just changed its rhythm. By day, it was all noise and traffic, a symphony of horns and impatience. But at night, it exhaled. The streets quieted to a pulse, the kind you could feel through the soles of your boots if you stood still long enough. Matteo liked that pulse. It reminded him he was alive, even when everything else in him felt mechanical.He hadn’t spoken to Raven in two days, not really. They exchanged updates on safehouse maintenance, casino movements, surveillance patterns but nothing beneath that surface. She was ice, deliberate. Elias was distracted by Liora, wrapped up in something reckless and new. Matteo didn’t mind; the boy had earned a moment of foolishness. What unsettled him was the silence Raven left behind.She had built walls higher than anyone he’d ever met, and somehow, he’d grown accustomed to the cracks the moments when she let him glimpse what was underneath. But lately, even the cracks had sealed.That night, he found her
Liora’s POV.The night was a cheap suit creased, cigarette-burned, and stinking of sweat and lies. I’d worn it a hundred times before, in a hundred different cities with the same story, different backdrop. Men who thought the table loved them, women who thought the house would let them walk away smiling, and the shadows that fed on both.That was the casino for you. An animal with too many teeth and not enough patience. And me? I was the parasite riding its back, knowing when to bleed it and when to stay quiet.I saw Elias long before he saw me. That boy moved like he was trying not to move, which is the same as putting a flare on your back in a place like this. You can’t half-breathe in a pit full of wolves. Either you look like you belong, or you look like food.And Elias he was too clean, too wired. His eyes darted, his hands twitched, but there was something underneath it. A storm held tight in a bottle, waiting for someone stupid enough to uncork it.That someone, apparently, was
Matteo stands to one side and watches us both, the fulcrum between two poles pulling in opposite directions. He doesn’t move for a long time, and doesn't pick a side. He’s not made of the same compulsion as Raven and not the same longing as me. He is measured, which in this business is sometimes the most dangerous posture of all.“You could have been hurt,” Raven says finally, the syllables mechanical, precise. Her hands don’t touch me. They want to; she has always wanted to shape me into something safer.“You were,” she adds, quieter, as if that makes me smaller and the world correct.I tell her about the fight, about the scar-man’s hands, about Liora stepping in. She doesn’t ask about details. She only says, “Stay away from her.”Which is not a request, It’s a wall.I might have walked away then. I might have listened to the woman who built me from scraps and said, yes, you are my tether, and this is the price of the life I owe you. But Liora appears to me in a crooked memory when I
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