LOGINCHAPTER 4: Giovanni's POV
I hadn't been able to get the Belluci girl out of my mind. No matter how hard I fucking tried and believe me I did. I went through the most women I've ever had in the span of two weeks and it was driving me crazy.
So when my new “ally” called in for a favour, I couldn't resist. Mirabella Belluci was on my turf and he needed someone to keep her safe. I could have delegated the task to one of my men but I needed to get her out of my system and fast.
I would never fuck her, of course. Turns out the only woman I ever craved for had the blood of that bastard running through her veins. Rest his soul, in Hell.
I just needed to look at her long enough to find something unattractive about her and move the fuck on. As the taxi sped down to her apartment, I followed at a safe distance. I had special forces training in firearms, stealth and combat so only a pro, or a really paranoid person would be able to detect me.
I got a call as we pulled up to her estate.
“Speak,” I said, parking opposite her own building. The whole estate was property of the Moretti family. Of course, I'd bring business home. When Marco was looking for an apartment, I offered him something better, a home where she could have her privacy.
“The shipment has arrived, Don,” Carlos said. There was silence and when I didn't say anything, he continued.
“You said you'd be here to inspect them yourself,” he added. Well, fuck. That skipped my mind. I watched as the driver helped her take her things into her house. As she bent to pick some one of her bags, I got a full view of her ass and I groaned.
“Don?” he called out.
“I'll be there in thirty,” I said, hanging up. Then I watched to make sure that the driver left before I drove to the warehouse. The warehouse, like the many others that the Moretti family owned, were normal to the plain eye but they were our hubs for most of our businesses.
Import, export, firearm and drug deals, money laundering, you name it. Well, except for human and sex trafficking. That was frowned upon in this family and anyone caught was killed instantly.
“Welcome, Don.” My men greeted me immediately I pulled in. I went straight to the backroom where I saw Carlos, some other men and a few cops.
“Don,” Carlos greeted, bowing a little. I nodded in response, then I looked over at the cops. One in particular looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, but I guess money could buy anyone.
“Thank you for your service. And I hope you're satisfied with your reward,” I spoke directly to their chief and he nodded.
“I look forward to doing business with you again,” he said, leading his men out.
“Just how much did we pay these fuckers this time around?” I asked as soon as they were gone.
“Just enough to make them feel like it was a lot of money,” he replied, chuckling. The rest of the men snickered.
“Well, let's be grateful for dirty cops, then. Shall we begin?” I said and immediately, one of my men opened one of the crates.
I spent way longer than I wanted to at the warehouse. Turned out I was right to want to inspect the goods myself. The fuckers thought they could play me. I was going to teach them a lesson they would never forget.
Before I could help myself, I found myself driving to her house. I needed to see her one last time before I turned in for the night. It was about 1 am when I arrived at her place. The lights were still on and she looked like she was dancing.
Almost as if she felt eyes on her, she looked straight at where my car was parked, but I hid myself just in time. She paused for a moment and then drew her blinds shut. A shame, I was enjoying the show.
Lorenzo's name flashed across my screen as my phone rang.
“Make it quick,” I said, still able to make out those delectable curves from her blinds.
“We found Matteo and his crew. Say the word,” he said. Good, that fucker needs to pay for trying to pull a quick one on me.
“Great, gather men and head out first thing. I want Matteo alive,” I ordered.
“Where the fuck are you anyway? You're not at the club or at home,” he said.
“And you're not my wife,” I said, ending the call. I only left her house when she stopped dancing.
At around 9pm the next day, I got the call that I’d been waiting for. They brought him in just as I instructed. Battered, bloodied, and trembling. Matteo. That snake who thought he could slip away from me, defying my orders and jilting me like I was nothing.
They dragged him into the warehouse, stumbling over his own feet, blood streaming down his face and dirt smudged across his cheeks. I was already waiting, the faint glow of a single overhead bulb casting long shadows across his bruised body.
I didn’t bother with words at first. Instead, I stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up with all the strength I could muster. His eyes darted around, desperate, pleading for mercy that wasn’t coming.
I threw him against the wall, the sound of his body hitting the concrete echoing in the space, nobody was going to save him from me. I could see the terror in his eyes, the realization that he’d fucked with the wrong man.
Without hesitation, I took a leather whip from my pocket. I started with a slow, deliberate beat, stinging, painful, designed to break him down. His screams echoed, raw and coarse, but I kept going, relishing every second of his suffering.
His pleas grew more frantic, begging for his life, but I had no mercy left for traitors. Every crack of the whip, was a reminder of what happens when you betray my fucking family.
When he finally collapsed, trembling and broken, I knelt down and looked into his eyes, cold and unforgiving.
“You thought you could play me,” I whispered, voice dripping with menace. “Jilting me like you did, thinking I wouldn’t find out. Now look at you.”
I reached into my coat and pulled out a knife, pressing the cold steel against his throat. His panicked gasps were music to my ears. I leaned in close, the stench of sweat and blood thick in the air.
“You’re going to tell me everything,” I said quietly. “And if you don’t, I’ll make sure your death is slow and painful.”
He spilled everything as I pressed the cold steel against his throat. His eyes fluttered with terror, and I revelled in it.
“I swear, Don,” Matteo gasped, voice trembling. “Someone paid me. Paid me good money to cut the shipment. Said if I didn’t reduce it, I’d be dead. I didn’t ask who it was, I just took the money and did what I was told.”
His lips trembled as he continued, “They threatened me, told me they’d come after my family if I didn’t cooperate. I didn’t know who they really were, just that they had enough power to push me around. I swear, I didn’t want to betray you. I just followed their orders.”
I studied him, wanting to know if he really was telling the truth.
“You mean to tell me,” I whispered, voice low and deadly, “that someone paid you off, threatened you, without revealing who they are, and you cut the shipment?”
He nodded desperately. “Yes, Don. I swear. I thought I was protecting myself. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t know who I was dealing with.”
His words hung heavy in the air. Someone, unnamed, wielded enough influence and power to control him, to make him betray me. Someone wanted me gone.
I pulled back, the steel slipping from his throat with a faint clank. He collapsed to the ground, trembling, bloodshot eyes staring up at me.
“You tried to cross me, have you forgotten who I fucking am?” I said, my voice low and cold as steel.
I took a long drag on my cigarette, watching him crawl away, trembling.
One thing was clear, this wasn’t just about Matteo. Someone else wanted to see me fall, to see my family bleed out from within. And I’d find out who, no matter how long it took.
I shot him once in the leg, let him crawl a little longer. Then, I cocked my gun again and ended it. A single shot, clean and precise. Blood splattered across the concrete as his eyes fluttered shut for the last time.
I only left the warehouse once I was certain he was gone, his body disposed of the way I saw fit. That bastard thought he could play me, but he learned the hard way. No one jilts Diavolo and walks away unscathed.
Back in my car, I lit another cigarette, watching the city lights flicker past. The game had changed. Someone had just set a trap. And I was going to be the one to set it off.
CHAPTER 71: Mirabella’s POVThe house was too quiet when I woke up. This was the second week I had spent trapped in this place. And today, today felt different. I knew because the silence was wrong.Usually, the Belluci mansion followed a rhythm. Doors opened at the same time. Footsteps passed my door in predictable intervals. A guard coughed from his cigarette near the stairs every morning like clockwork.Today, something had slipped.When I opened my eyes, the air felt thin. Like the house was holding its breath.I dressed slowly. Same routine. Same neutral clothes Marco approved of. No jewelry. Nothing sharp. Nothing that could be twisted into a weapon or used for an escape. I stepped into the hallway.Two guards stood near the stairs instead of three.They weren’t talking.One of them kept checking his phone.That was new.Breakfast was already laid out when I reached the dining room. The table looked untouched, but the staff moved with tight shoulders and eyes that refused to
CHAPTER 70: Giovanni’s POVThe room was quiet in the way only command centers ever were—screens humming, men breathing softly, coffee going cold where no one remembered to drink it.Mirabella was okay.That was the only thing keeping the walls from coming down.When Dominic came back from the Belluci mansion, that was the first thing I demanded. Was Mirabella okay? Was she hurt? A million things ran through my mind during the first week she was there, but I couldn’t afford any rash decisions. Her life was in Marco’s hands.Carlos stood near the far monitor wall, jacket off, sleeves rolled, tapping two fingers against his arm like he was restraining himself from pacing. Lorenzo leaned against the table, arms crossed, jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth. Eliana sat on the edge of the leather couch, knees bouncing, eyes red but sharp.No one spoke.They were waiting for me.I broke the silence, turning to Diane. “Run it again.”The audio replayed. Footsteps. The scrape of a chair. Mir
CHAPTER 69: Mirabella’s POV I woke up to silence.Not the peaceful kind. The wrong kind. The kind that pressed in on your ears until your pulse sounded too loud, too present.My head throbbed dully as I opened my eyes, the ceiling swimming for a second before settling into focus.White.Too white.My breath caught before I could stop it.I knew that ceiling.The faint hairline crack near the corner. The old water stain my father never fixed. The stupid chandelier hook that never held anything because Mama refused to let him hang it.My stomach dropped.No.I pushed myself upright slowly, testing my body before panic could take the wheel. My limbs responded. No restraints. No sharp pain. Just the heavy fog of being knocked out and a tension headache blooming behind my eyes.The room looked exactly the same.My old bed. The dresser. The wardrobe with the warped door that never shut properly. Even the faded rug I used to trace patterns on when I couldn’t sleep.But it felt smaller now.
CHAPTER 68: Giovanni’s POVThe villa was lit like a fucking fortress when we pulled in.Floodlights carved the night apart, bleaching stone walls and wrought iron gates until there was nowhere left for shadows to hide. Men stood where darkness used to live—on balconies, by the outer walls, at every blind angle Marco might have once studied and memorized. Engines idled. Radios murmured. Weapons stayed low but ready.LA was mine.Every street. Every corner. Every quiet stretch of road that led back to this house.And tonight, anyone stupid enough to forget that would pay for it.The car hadn’t even fully stopped before Mirabella was reaching for the door. She moved like something pulled tight finally snapping free, heels hitting stone as she took the steps two at a time, breath already breaking loose from her chest.“Mama,” she breathed.Her mother stood in the doorway, wrapped in a dark shawl, posture stiff from days of fear she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge. She looked thinner
CHAPTER 67: Mirabella’s POV The morning sunlight filtered softly through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom. The city outside was waking up, but inside, it felt like the world had shrunk to just this room, just Giovanni, just me.I stirred carefully, not wanting to wake him. His chest rose and fell steadily, but I couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at me. Marco was my brother, and he had used me to target Giovanni. If I hadn’t been involved… if I hadn’t been the one Marco manipulated… he wouldn’t have gotten shot. My fingers trembled slightly as I adjusted the bandages across his ribs, careful not to hurt him.“Kitten…” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. His eyes cracked open halfway, half-lidded, and I saw that signature smirk even before his gaze fully focused.“You’re awake,” I whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead.“Yeah,” he rasped. “Although I’d rather have you in my arms for much longer.”“Hmm,” I hummed, voice low. I sat
CHAPTER 66: Giovanni’s POV DOMINICI didn’t announce myself.I never did with Marco. Didn’t need to. The Belluci house still remembered my footsteps, even if he liked to pretend it didn’t.Two guards stiffened when they saw me. Hands twitching. Eyes sharp but nobody spoke.Good. They knew better.Marco stood by the window, phone in hand, city lights bleeding behind him like he owned the fucking skyline. He turned slowly, lazy about it, like he’d been expecting me all along.“Well,” he drawled. “If it isn’t my favorite brother.”The door clicked shut behind me. “You kidnapped our mother.”No greeting. No bullshit. Just the cold, hard truth. Even for him, this was going too far. Marco smiled. That easy, careless smile that always meant someone else was about to bleed for his entertainment.“She’s fine,” he said. “A little shaken. But alive. You’re welcome.”I stepped closer. “You dragged her into a war she has nothing to do with.”“She dragged herself into it the day she chose sides.







