LOGINHe was her bully once, her nightmare and the reason she hides in her room, refusing to go to high school. Now he’s her chain breaker. The man who saved her from the monster she called a husband. But when love is born from pain, can it ever be pure? In a world ruled by power, sin, and revenge, she might become the most dangerous weapon of all — his little ruin. ~ “It's you.” Vito blurted out and she shivered. How did he manage to catch on without seeing her whole face? Vito inhaled deeply as he stared at her, completely in shock. “How the fuck did you end up with such garbage?” He demanded, his usual insensitive voice betrayed by a darker one. “...please, don’t kill me,” Milan begged. “Let me go, I will never tell anyone about any of this.” ~ Milan left behind her studies, her dreams, and her family to elope with Giovanni, a multi-billioanaire, believing she was choosing love. But love quickly turned into captivity. Giovanni locked her away from the world, treated her like she didn’t exist, and paraded other women in front of her. When she refused to get pregnant, he threatened to keep her hidden forever. The morning Giovanni was murdered gave her hope, and the man holding the gun was the one she thought she had escaped forever. Vito Salvatore. Now trapped in Vito’s world of power, crime, and dark fantasies, Milan must decide whether to surrender or become powerful herself. Vito claims he is protecting her, but his touch feels like danger and his eyes burn with a possessiveness she couldn't bring herself to entertain. Because in his arms, pain feels like passion, and vengeance tastes like love.
View MoreMateo’s expression darkened as the memory surfaced unbidden. The way Vito had carried Milan that first day. The possessiveness. The intimacy. The unmistakable claim in his tone and actions even though he swore he wasn't her lover. “What do you think he’ll do,” he added, his voice dropping lower than usual, “if he finds out?” They both knew exactly who he meant. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Milan’s fingers curled protectively over her stomach. “If he finds out,” she said softly, “everything ends.” At that exact moment, the phone on the bedside table lit up. VITO. Mateo’s eyes remained on the screen even after he read who was calling. His jaw muscle tightened before he looked away and swallowed his initial words. “I’ll excuse you,” he muttered. “I need to think this through. And I’ll talk to Andrea. We need to know if this… plan of yours will even work.” Relief flickered across Milan’s face. “Thank you.” Before she could say anything else, the phone on
Vito gave Milan one of his mobile phones when he dropped her off at Angels Den the next morning. He pressed it into her palm and told her to use it when she sensed someone stalking her, or if Antonio ever showed up. Then he added, quietly, “You can call me anytime. Do not hesitate to call me.”Milan nodded and thanked him, her fingers curling around the phone as if it were a lifeline. She opened her mouth, the secret burning on her tongue, the words begging to be released before they poisoned everything.But she stopped herself.He would never find out… not if she didn’t tell him. And Andrea had promised to keep her secret safe.“Do you have something you want to say to me?” Vito asked.He hated that he’d asked. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t care about her or even look at her again. Not when every glance stripped away his control. But the pull was stronger than reason.Milan shook her head. “No.”Then, asked softly, “See you soon?”Vito didn’
The words were out before he seemed to consider them fully. Vito opened his mouth again, clearly about to retract the offer, thinking she’d refuse, or worse, be uncomfortable. “I’ll stay,” Milan said, catching him off guard. Vito blinked. She met his intense gaze even as her heart raced. “Just for the night.” Vito couldn't promise her that so he kept mute. He started the car and raced home, unaware of how much weight that silence weighed on Milan and how she kept telling herself this was a bad idea. She wasn’t drunk enough anymore to blame it on the alcohol. If she was being honest, she was blaming it on his violet eyes- they were so dark, and mesmerizing, on the way they seemed to strip her bare every time they lingered on her for half a second too long. Finally, she couldn’t take it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Milan asked. Vito glanced at her, genuinely puzzled. “Like what?” She shook her head quickly, turning toward the window. “Nothing.” Her voice softened as h
Vito returned with a bottle in hand, uncapped it, and stood close enough that only she could hear him and feel his stiff erection pressing her thighs. “Open your mouth.” Milan’s breath hitched. She hesitated only a second before obeying. He tilted the bottle and let the liquor burn its way down her throat. Antinori. The taste she knew too well. The same drink she ever shared with him. It lit something reckless inside her. Vito pulled the bottle away, his eyes lingering on the alcohol that had poured on her throat. “That’s enough.” Milan laughed, soft at first, then freer. She laughed and smiled happily as her fear dissolved into heat and movement. She stepped onto the dance floor and let the music take her. She had always loved to dance but she had stopped because it didn't fit into her plan in the US. She had won many dance competitions in ICS, and Vito loved to watch her dance. Now swaying her hips to Italian music while glancing at him made her feel wild and aroused.
Vito woke to a soft, insistent tapping on his bedroom door. For a brief second he let himself believe it was Aurora following their morning routine. He glanced at the small clock on his bedside table and froze. It was still too early for the little girl to be up. The wine from the night before and t
It had been four years since Vito Salvatore gained full legal custody of his cousin, little Aurora, and it hadn’t been easy. Raising an autistic child was never simple, and it became far harder when she refused to speak.Had Aurora always been autistic? That was impossible to answer. But after the
The next day, Vito called Andrea and instructed her to live with Milan in Angels Den for a few days. His reason was her “anxiety episode” But the reality was that he was too jealous to leave her alone with Bang. The doctor was about to disagree, but then, she heard him say that Mateo would also be t
Vito stood by the window, his tall frame outlined by the vague light of the city outside. The glass of Antinori in his hand gleamed dark red, the liquid swirling lazily as though mocking the turmoil inside him. His palm, still wrapped in the torn fabric Milan had used to stop his bleeding, pulsed f
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