SOFIA’s POVI ran my fingers over the contract one last time, the smooth pages cool against my fingertips. Every clause, every word had been shaped to secure my future—my future, not his.This deal was my ticket to the top, and I had spent the past twenty-four hours ensuring every detail was airtight. Yet, a feeling coiled in my stomach, a quiet voice whispering that Rios wasn’t the type to let anyone dictate the terms. Still, I pushed the doubt aside. He was expecting me at dinner and had even sent this off-shoulder, perfectly tailored black dress, along with a pair of sleek stilettos. I could really get used to this.I placed the contract back into its leather folder, smoothed the silk of my gown, and forced my spine straight. Whatever Rios had planned, I would make sure I wouldn’t falter.Moments later, I stepped inside the private dining room, my heels barely making a sound against the floor. The scent of aged wine and charred steak lingered in the air. And there, in the middle of
SOFIA’S POVThe candlelight at the center of the table continued to flicker between us as it reflected in Rios’s solemn face. His gaze held mine, steady and still and a little wily, as if he already knew my answer before I could even process his new proposition."Two days,” he said smoothly. “I’ll give you two days to decide, Sofia. But for tonight, let’s just enjoy this dinner."Right. That’s very easy to say, Rios.I forced a breath through my nose and reached for the glass of wine in front of me. The rim was cool against my lips as I took a slow sip, letting the rich red liquid coat my tongue before swallowing. But no matter how fine the wine was and how exquisite the meal, I couldn’t shake the unease curling in my stomach.My fingers toyed with the silverware as I let the silence drag my thoughts. I wanted to ignore the tension sitting between us like a third guest at the table, but the words burned at the back of my throat."I believe there’s a deeper reason for this arrangement,"
Beatrice Sandoval’s fingers curled into the velvet of her clutch, her teeth grinding as she swallowed the fury clawing up her throat. The people around her were alive with cheers, clinking glasses, and hushed murmurs of admiration, all aimed at the couple in the center of it all.Rios and her. That woman. She could remember now—she was the one who had bumped into her in the hallway earlier that day.Beatrice’s jaw tightened as she watched Rios kiss her with a hunger that made her stomach churn. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers tangled in her dark waves, pulling her into him like she belonged there. And that bitch was giving in.She could see the way she melted against him, her hands gripping the collars of his suit and her body pressed against him possessively. Beatrice wanted to scream. But she wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Feeling the loss of control, she forced a smile and turned away.Without another word, she strode out of the private dining hall, heels click
SOFIA’S POVRios’s hot and demanding mouth crashed against mine with no hesitation. After that reckless declaration that I made to embarrass that arrogant Beatrice, Rios seemed determined to leave no space between us.We had laughed earlier, picturing the fury simmering beneath Beatrice’s calm exit. The evening had turned unexpectedly playful, flirtatious even, and Rios had seemed to enjoy the façade we put on. But now, as we left the dinner and continued that sensual kiss—which, by the way, was witnessed by everyone at the restaurant—his desperation sent shivers down my spine and stole the breath from my lungs. He tasted of something dark and forbidden. I shouldn’t crave him, but I did anyway.With our lips never parting, he led me upstairs and expertly unlocked my hotel room door. Our bodies had been tangled since the elevator ride, and now, even before my brain could process anything else, my back hit the wall. The cool surface did nothing to temper the fire spreading through me. Hi
Rios hadn’t realized he was coming here until the colorful glow of the familiar place flickered against the hood of his car. A huge sign loomed above: Madam Carrie’s House of Pleasure.It stood on the edge of the city, not too far from the luxurious, bustling lifestyle, yet distant enough to ensure the utmost privacy for its patrons in their moments of carnal indulgence. This was a place where men lost themselves, whether in silk sheets or cheap whiskey. Rios knew he didn’t belong here anymore. And yet, here he was again.Several times, he told himself he had outgrown this place, and he wanted to believe he had control over it, but every time the world spun too fast, he found himself crawling back to this place. Coming here was like an addiction that just wouldn’t die.He killed the engine, gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles ached. His mind still burned with Sofia—her scent, the way she had pulled away just when he was about to claim her, the way she had stopped him, and w
SOFIA’s POVI climbed the stairs of the run-down building that had been my home for almost four years. The dim hallway smelled of damp concrete and leftover cigarette smoke, the kind that clung to the walls no matter how many times the rain washed over the roof.I was only twenty when my mother died of lung cancer. Her death had me running to the city, chasing the impossible dream of being a star. I kept telling myself I wanted to live her dream for me, but the truth was, I just wanted to get away. Losing her felt like someone had driven a stake straight into my chest. The sharp and unbearable pain pushed me into the arms of my Uncle Randy, thinking that since we were family, we’d understand each other. But I was wrong. I was always wrong about people.What happened in this apartment two nights ago dragged out memories I had fought to bury. Now, as I climbed these stairs, I found myself wondering what had happened to my landlord. Despite his vile intentions, I didn’t wish for his death
Rios stepped out of the elevator and into his underground office. The artificial cold from the massive air conditioners in every corner of the building, combined with the scent of leather and polished metal, greeted his senses. Unlike the chaotic, sweat-drenched backrooms of lesser crime syndicates, his empire operated with ruthless efficiency.The floors gleamed beneath the stark white lights. High-tech monitors lined the walls. Its screens flashed streams of numbers, surveillance footage, and millions of encrypted messages from operations across the globe. Imported state-of-the-art machines whirred softly in the background. They were silent witnesses to crimes so cleanly executed that even government agencies struggled to trace them. These systems that were imported from the U.S. were funded by the larger Mafia families operating in Italy and California. These powerful backers ensured their empire remained untouchable.Employees in tailored black suits moved without a hint of uncerta
SOFIA’s POVAll my things were loaded into a separate vehicle, a Ram 1500 Limited, its glossy black exterior reflecting the sunlight. But before I could react to the gorgeousness of this pickup truck, a second vehicle pulled up, this one distinctly more elegant. It was a Mercedes-Maybach EQS SUV, sleek in pearl white with a rose-gold trim that reminded me of Mr. Lee’s. It stopped right in front of me and Kyle, the leader of the group, whose name I had only just learned.The tinted window slid down, revealing a man in the driver’s seat. He barely spared me a glance before turning to Kyle. “You drive here.”No further explanation was given. Kyle nodded, stepping around to open the passenger-side door and motioning for me to get in.The moment I slid into the seat, the soft scent of an expensive cologne that smelled woodsy with a hint of citrus filled my senses. The cabin was impossibly smooth and quiet, swallowing the outside noise in an almost eerie way. This car was power wrapped in lu
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