Fun fact: I had to drink plenty of water right after I wrote this.
Rios watched the steam rise from Sofia’s coffee cup, the morning light catching the curve of her cheekbone. She sat cross-legged on their hotel bed, one of his shirts draped over her. She looked so ethereal that he couldn’t stop smiling no matter how much he tried to stop himself.“What are you smiling about?” Sofia asked.“Nothing,” he said, sending a peck on her lips. “Come here.”They cuddled on top of the bed. The city outside was barely stirring. Inside, it was quiet, just the sound of cutlery clinking and the occasional laugh from her teasing comments. She looked undone and peaceful.“I know you’re excited to stroll around Baguio.”“I am,” she chirped, setting the cup on the small table beside their breakfast in bed. She straddled him, his lips brushing hers. Those simple movements once again awakened the junior between his legs. The intense physical pull toward his wife clouded his mind all over again. He pressed his lips to hers, and before he knew it, they had made love once m
Without hesitation, Valeria fired at the man who was blindly spraying bullets their way.“Valeria! Get Sofia to safety now!” Rios shouted, crouched behind a crumbling wall with Sofia. They’d lost their tail after fleeing the packed market and ended up in a quiet part of Baguio. The road ahead was bare, lined with looming balete trees, but the silence was broken by fresh bursts of gunfire. The ex-marine realized more of those goons who were after them were coming.“Got it, Boss,” Valeria said, sprinting over. “Come on, Miss Sofia.” She said as she grabbed the woman’s wrist.“I’m not leaving you here, Rios!”Valeria didn’t wait, raising her gun and firing again while the other two argued behind her.“What the fuck is happening?” Sofia’s voice cracked. Valeria could see the panic settling in. The always-composed woman was gone, replaced by someone frantic and dragging them down with her endless questions. It was starting to piss her off. Prison taught her that every second counts, especi
SOFIA’s POVI don’t know what to make of this unfortunate situation. What Rios and I shared in this city felt truly magical and unforgettable for a honeymoon. But now, I sat sobbing and desperately trying to ease the cold biting my skin and the wound in my arm.I was just crying the whole time we were huddled in this small cave. Valeria wasn’t saying anything, but her presence somehow proved comforting for my wretched soul. I wish I could take back what I said about not needing a bodyguard. Right now, this lady felt like heaven sent to me.I stifled a sob before heaving a deep sigh. Indeed, Valeria was right. We were in a misfortune, and I needed to get my shit together.“I’m sorry,” my words spilled, mingling with the sound of cackling from the small bonfire.“For what, Miss Sofia?” she replied. Her voice sounded gruff and already tired.“For dragging you into this mess. And for saying I didn’t need a bodyguard. Now, here we are.”A faint smile tugged at her lips. “No worries, Miss So
The remnants of what had happened where Sofia and Valeria were last seen by Rios painted a grim picture: somehow, they could confirm both women had fallen into the darkness below.“We can’t go in there now, Boss Rios,” Jestone said, holding his phone above his head. Its small light cut through the dark landscape, but they could barely see anything. “We might need a chopper, but—”“Shut up! Shut up, I’m thinking!” Rios snapped, punching in a number on his phone. Jestone and Kyle traded glances at their usually composed boss’s attitude, his calm peeling away into a frantic frenzy.“Sasha,” he barked when the line connected. “What the hell is happening? I thought there’d be reinforcements. No one came! My wife and her bodyguard just fell off a fucking cliff!”His grip tightened around the phone as Sasha’s voice chattered on. He could feel himself trembling and falling into the pit of monstrosity. He realized all those trips he had taken for expensive therapy abroad weren’t helping.“I alr
SOFIA’s POVMy memory of being sick or having a brutal fever always brings back the feel of my mother’s gentle hands brushing my burning forehead, only to be replaced by a cold compress or a cloth soaked in water and vinegar. She would then gather wild leaves and plants only she knew the names of and boil them into a lukewarm natural medicine for me to drink. They always tasted bland, sometimes bitter, but my young heart never dared to complain. My mother had always been so good to me and lived her life wanting what was best for me.Today, instead of waking up to the warmth of her hands, my fluttering, hazy eyes caught two bodyguards, who were sitting in each corner of a room that smelled like rubbing alcohol and was painted white from floor to ceiling. I felt my head resting on a soft pillow while my back sunk into a firm cushion.Kyle was slouched in a chair, dozing with a hanky over his face and arms crossed over his chest. Valeria sat to my left, flipping through a pamphlet that re
With Sofia in the hospital, Rios hadn’t planned on coming home so soon. But his last phone call with Sasha informed him that an emergency family meeting was happening at his grandfather’s mansion. He figured it was also the right time to break the news about marrying another woman.He exhaled sharply, then killed the engine and stepped onto the familiar gravel drive of the estate. The cloudy mid-afternoon sky hung low, mirroring the chaos spiraling through his head and his life in general.The doors creaked open as he entered. His mother stood stiff in the foyer, arms folded, and lips drawn into a tight line. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she didn’t move. He then turned to his father, lowering his head out of habit to kiss the man’s hand, but Demitre’s fist cracked across his jaw before he could touch it.“Who the fuck do you think you are?” his father roared.“Demitre, calm yourself, boy! This is a family meeting,” the old man growled from his place in the hallway.Rios pushed h
(TRIGGER WARNING: torture)It took them a minute to speak after the father-and-daughter tandem exited the house. Now that the problem had been laid out, the cunning Rodulf Sandoval made it clear that Rios had to give up his marriage with Sofia and tie the knot with Beatrice instead.But Rios stood firm. It hadn’t been his plan to get serious with the aspiring actress, but she’d already cast her spell on him, pulling him in deeply. Now, he was stuck at the precipice, staring into a future that made sense only if she was in it. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have pegged himself as the hopeless romantic type. But here he was. Still, no matter how badly he wanted to escape this life, reality always came to push him to the edge of the cliff. He looked at his beloved family, the word beloved rolling through his head like a bitter joke. Their faces looked grim and defeated. But who could blame them? Twenty percent was twenty percent. And he was sure those greedy and manipulative Sandovals wou
SOFIA’s POVRios had me rest for a week before I was allowed back into training with my acting coach. During those days, the wound in my arm began to heal gradually. My ribs still ached, but I could breathe again without flinching.Rios stayed busy. He would visit my house, but we wouldn’t really talk. He would only instruct Valeria and Kyle about some important tasks about me and also converse with the house helper he hired for me. We would catch him having meetings at odd hours, with his men coming and going. Then, one night, he’d explain things over dinner. He told me how the family built their empire, the layers behind their so-called businesses, the money, and, of course, the risks. It took me three days to say a full sentence to him. Even now, it felt like too much. So, I focused on training. It was Valeria who pitched the idea. “A Mafia wife must know how to defend herself,” she said. I figured she was right. We couldn’t take any chances anymore. I kept my head down and worke
SOFIA’s POVI didn’t wait for Rios after the flight. I went straight to my bedroom and hurled some clothes into the suitcase.I felt so mad inside, but I wasn’t going to say that in front of his face. I already told him I called Mina and the two of us were going somewhere. My clothes looked wrinkled and uneven, but I didn’t care. My passport sat open on the desk beside my phone. One word blinked at me from the itinerary email: Spain. I had to breathe. I had to remind myself to continue existing outside of him.The door swung open hard. Then Rios's voice cracked through the silence like glass. "You're going where?"I didn’t turn. "Spain."He stepped in, closing the door with a thud. "Now? After everything that just happened? We just came back from the Tribunal."I zipped the suitcase halfway. "Exactly because of everything that just happened.""Sofia, you can’t do this. You're still legally bound to me. And the contract—""Yes, I know," I snapped. "And I am not running away, okay? But
The funeral passed quietly. The Sandoval estate, tucked behind high iron gates and hedges too well-groomed for grief, saw only a handful of visitors. Men in charcoal suits exchanged brief nods as women in their black dresses stood side by side. Many of those who attended Beatrice Sandoval’s last farewell were old associates, syndicate men, and loyalists who owed their lives or fortunes to Rodulf. There were no sobs and no flowery speeches. The grieving father only saw grim faces and a sky too blue for a coffin where his daughter lay. Rodulf stood still, his hand resting on the coffin's edge. He didn’t blink as it was lowered into the earth. The priest mumbled something about peace and eternal light, but Rodulf heard only a voice from years ago. He could hear the younger and brighter version of his daughter. She was a brat indeed, but at least she was alive.“Daddy, please! There's nothing I want to marry with, only Rios. You have to find a way for him and me to get married.”She was
Rios walked beside his wife and felt like he was leading a queen into the throng of people beneath the stairs. Her delicate hand rested lightly on his arm, and the mask simmering under the ballroom lights hid the bruises on her pretty face. He had managed to convince her to come with him to this last event of the annual tribunal, and he was prouder than ever to call her his. The silk of her gown clung beautifully to her curves, and—God, her eyes—were the only thing in the room that kept him grounded. He had seen many beautiful women. He had watched them crawl through diamonds and power, but Sofia had that gaze that automatically pulled every eye in the room. Just like what was happening now. As they stepped into the masquerade, everyone turned. Even the big Mafia bosses nodded at every step they took. They were looking at her. He felt proud of his wife, but his fingers still tensed against her arm. Every fucking one of them seemed to be undressing her—and not even pretending they we
SOFIA’S POVThe sheets felt like velvet against my raw skin, but every movement sent sparks of pain shooting up my ribs.Violet bruises were still decorating my arms, and deep purple and sickly yellow could be seen in some areas of my thighs and face. These were souvenirs from Beatrice's goons before the duel. And when I fought with Beatrice, my lower lip was split and felt tender to the touch. One eye still refused to open fully. It still looked puffed and angry that I refused to look at the mirror. Other bruises had also started to bloom darkly over my ribs and arms, purpling my thighs, and feathering my jawline. I barely recognized myself.And I remembered.I remembered the girl who used to flinch from her own reflection. The girl with the crooked, ugly nose, and the girl whose cheek had been carved by a childhood accident. I left my hometown and found a guy who financed my whims, then I had surgeries later. Back then, before the surgical operation, I hated every inch of my face.
A voice thundered from the head of the tribunal table. "You are given a choice. Become officially part of the Mafia or—"But before the threat could settle, Sofia’s voice cut through the thick, suffocating air. "No," she said sharply as her fists clenched at her sides. "I just did what I needed to do."Sasha looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Aunt Rita as they listened to Sofia's voice filling the place. Sasha felt a knot forming in her stomach. Why would Sofia turn down an offer that would surely shield her against the Sandovals’ wrath? Just earlier, Sofia had survived the duel against that spoiled Mafia heiress, Beatrice. The bitch was finally dead—not by their hands, but it didn’t matter. Rios’s contract wife had done it for them. Relief flickered in Sasha’s chest, but it tangled with a gnawing worry. Surely, Beatrice’s death was bound to blow up the tension between the Sandovals and their family. Across the field, Rios was already leading Sofia out, cradling her like she
SOFIA’s POVI woke up in a cell. Concrete walls, gray and sweating with cold, welcomed my vision. When I looked around, I only saw a single steel bed bolted to the floor. There was also one toilet in the corner. It was clean, but rust was forming around its edges. My wrists were chained to the wall, heavy and short enough that I couldn’t sit up straight. Also, my face throbbed. Each pulse sent a sharp and steady ache in my jaw and my cheekbones. I then remembered the two men in masks. Their knuckles cracked before they landed their blows. They made sure to knock the breath out of me, again and again, until all I could do was gasp and fade. Then I remembered the wooden box after that. I felt I was floating before fading out again.And now, I was in a cell.“Help!” I shouted. “Somebody… help me!” But only the echoes of my voice answered my call.Suddenly, the metal door creaked. I flinched and felt a slight relief upon seeing my husband.“Oh, babe,” he whispered as he stepped inside, c
Once everyone was seated, the room fell into silence as Rios stepped into the circle. Torchlight flickered off the walls, and only the rustle of papers and the waves outside could be heard. At the center of the round table, the thick and almost ancient Secret Ledger lay unopened. Rios placed his palm on the book, and one by one, the bosses rose from their high-backed chairs, their footsteps echoing as they moved to perform the ritual before formally going into session.Kenji Takahashi bowed stiffly before placing his hand on the cover. Rika followed quickly. Next to her was Vittorino Mancini, who muttered something in Italian under his breath and kissed two fingers before pressing them to the spine of the book. Luca Bellanti grunted and followed suit. Then Gabriel Fonseca approached slowly, crossed himself, and whispered a blessing that sounded more like a curse because of his language. Meanwhile, Catalina Cabrerra didn't speak.Beatrice Sandoval placed her hand on the Ledger next, s
Each major international Mafia Boss was required by the Ledger to bring one allied or subordinate family into the Tribunal. Each ally would serve as a witness and backup power. Rios recalled that there would be ten power seats from the active circle, which were the five global syndicate leaders and their invited family bosses.Not long after, the esteemed bosses were arriving one by one.“Firipin e okaerinasai,” greeted Rios as he and Kenji Takahashi bowed formally toward each other. The serious man, whose voice was soft but always made Rios nervous, had come all the way from Osaka, Japan. Takahashi was a former enforcer in the Yamaguchi-gumi syndicate, but had risen as the leader of his own splinter group. He didn’t talk much, but when it came to business, he was always eager to share how he grew his empire, which was through tech, crypto laundering, and, of course, his brutal efficiency. He was known as the kind of man who eliminated rivals before they even spoke. The Japanese man w
Rios stood in front of the grand hall where his private meetings with the Mafia were often held. The sound of the waves outside the building called loudly, but the silence only drowned out the impending excitement.In about three hours, the Mafia Tribunal would be held on this private island in Batangas. His family called the venue Taal Island Fortress—a private ancestral estate on a volcanic island in the country. For years, the Alcaraz family had owned such an esteemed, secluded place that could only be reached by chopper or private boat. No wonder it had been one of the places the Sandoval family had been eyeing.Rios heaved a nervous sigh. The annual Tribunal required each Mafia Boss to bring at least one prominent Mafia family from their turf. In the Philippines, only the Alcarazes and the Sandovals controlled most of the regions. It automatically meant Rios had to bring the Sandovals with him. The invitations had been sent. Somewhere deep in his mind, he hoped and prayed none of