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Keep your nose out of our business.
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2025-08-02 23:00:30
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Game over. Spying on Michelle.
Marco’s POVMichelle Morris. The thought of her coils in my mind like smoke, rising and curling with potential, with danger, with opportunity. She moves through this city, fragile but ambitious, a woman used to being seen, to being admired, to bending people with a glance, and yet I know she has weaknesses, small cracks that can be widened, gaps that can be exploited. She wants to matter, she wants attention, she wants power, even if she doesn’t realize it. And Logan Rossi… he has been careful to surround himself with loyalty, with walls, with impenetrable defences, but every fortress has a gate, and every gate has a lock. Michelle might just be the key.I have my men watch her movements, track her habits, whisper through the streets, the bars, the high-end restaurants she frequents. They know to stay invisible, to blend, to note everything without alerting her. Every smile she offers, every question she asks, every shadow she passes through, all of it is intelligence. Intelligence, w
Game over. He knows.
Marco’s POVI stride into the back room of the bar, the low whispers of conversation and clinking glasses fading behind me as the door shuts, leaving only the faint smell of cigarette smoke and spilled whiskey. My men glance at me, heads lowered, because they know what my expression means, and I don’t have to say a word for them to understand the tension coiling like a snake in the room. Every movement, every measured step I take carries authority, the weight of the Castello name pressing into the walls, reminding anyone who dares look that I am no man to be trifled with. I have spent my life building empires from the shadows, carving my place from blood and fire, and yet there is a pulse of anticipation thrumming beneath my skin tonight, a restless energy that refuses to be contained.One of my men approaches, careful, too careful, but I see the hesitation in his eyes, the tiny tremor that betrays the weight of the information he carries. He hesitates, and I do not allow the pause to
Game over. Getting ready for the new challenge.
Logan’s POVI stand behind Maddie as she studies the floor plan of the estate, the map spread across the large oak table like a battlefield waiting to be defended, and I watch her fingers trace every hallway, every entrance, every window, because she sees it all, not just the physical layout, but the vulnerabilities, the places someone like Marco Castello could exploit, the shadows where danger could hide. She leans forward, elbows pressed to the table, jaw tight, eyes sharp and calculating, and I feel that familiar rush of pride mixed with possessiveness, because this woman is not just beautiful and fierce. She is brilliant, unflinching, the perfect partner in a world built on power and betrayal. She also knows, like I do, we have to make our home safe first.“We need more cameras,” she says, finally looking up at me, her voice steady even as her eyes flash with determination. “At every gate, every entry, and every blind spot. Marco may already know all the weak points. What if he ha
Game over. A new enemy in town.
Logan’s POVThe office is quiet, the noise of the city outside barely reaching the thick walls that have heard more secrets than most people could imagine, and I stand by the window for a moment, letting my gaze drift across the skyline, before turning back to Maddie, who sits in the chair across from my desk, hands clasped tightly in her lap, the tension in her shoulders impossible to miss. I take a deep breath, steadying the words I am about to say, because there is no easing the truth, no softening it, and she deserves nothing less than the full weight of it.“Maddie,” I begin, my voice low but firm, carrying the authority that comes not just from being a Don, but from being a man who has seen what betrayal and power can do, who has walked through fire and come out unburned, “Sean, Roman, and his family, they’re gone. They will never return to America. The arrangements are in place, and the consequences are final. You won’t have to worry about them threatening our children, our fam
Game over. Dangerous men.
Michelle’s POVThe night air is cool when I step outside the bar, but it does little to settle the storm inside me, and as the flash of camera bulbs blinds me for a moment, I almost forget the swarm of paparazzi I left waiting, their questions loud and sharp, each one stabbing into the quiet I need. I ignore them, sliding into the back of my car, and as the driver pulls away, the noise fades, but the silence that replaces it is heavier, thick with the weight of Marco Castello’s words.I lean my head back against the leather seat, closing my eyes for just a moment, and I can still see him sitting there across from me, his dark gaze steady, his smile cold, every word chosen like a knife meant to slip beneath the skin. He was not asking for anything, not really. He was planting, hinting, weaving threads he expects me to follow, and the worst part is that I felt the pull of it, the quiet tug of his suggestions wrapping themselves around thoughts I do not want to admit I still have. Logan
Game over. Playing Michelle.
Marco’s POVI sit back in the chair opposite her, the glass of whiskey in my hand catching the faint glow of the bar’s low-hanging light, and I watch Michelle Morris with the kind of patience most men mistake for disinterest, but it is not disinterest, it is calculation, because everything about her, the set of her jaw, the way her eyes follow me without flinching, the deliberate calmness she wears like an expensive dress, is a test, and I already know that if I want her, if I want to bend her to my purpose, I will need to play the long game, the careful game, the game where every word is a step closer to making her believe she is in control when in truth she is already caught in my web.Michelle is beautiful, of course, but not in the way that makes me reckless or stupid, her beauty is sharp, the kind that slices if you are foolish enough to reach without thought, and I understand why Logan Rossi once looked at her with something more than passing interest, because she is not the kin
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