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Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘“You need to tell her the truth, Adriano,” Alessia said quietly, “This can’t go on forever, she’s not stupid. She’s already starting to feel it.”Her voice barely made it through the weight in my chest. I didn’t answer, just exhaled slow through my nose, like that would calm the fury boiling under my skin.Vincenzo let out a dry laugh from the leather armchair, legs spread wide, gun on the table, “Told you from the beginning to marry the girl, lock it down. Now she’s yours. What’s she gonna do? Run? You think we wouldn’t find her? You think she’d make it past the driveway?”Alessia crossed her arms, glaring at Vincenzo, “And what happens when she does? When she puts it all together, what this family really is? What you’ve dragged her into?”Vincenzo cracked his neck and smiled like a wolf. “Then it’s too late. She’s already wearing the ring.”I knew Maddie. I knew her heart, her soft fear, her blind trust. And I’d wrapped myself in all of it, I let her fall so deep she
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡I stood there, not moving, my heart pounding in my ears as if my body knew something my brain hadn’t caught up to yet. Claire was jumping like she’d just won the lottery, tears in her eyes, screaming and laughing, holding onto Vincenzo’s arm like it was the best day of her life.Alessia was crying too like a woman who’d just had the weight of a decade pulled off her chest. She was laughing and shaking, her whole body trembling. And then there was Adriano with that smug grin he wore when something went exactly the way he planned it.My eyes flicked to the TV, drawn to it...“ALL CHARGES DROPPED: Costello Syndicate Cleared in Federal Case Tied to Arms Trafficking, Money Laundering, and Racketeering. DOJ Faces Scrutiny Over Botched Trial.”My stomach clenched.Wait, what?Why the hell was Allegra, Alessia’s daughter, even involved in this? Why had no one said anything? Why did they act like she was just off somewhere being a new mom?The anchor was saying words th
Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘Neutral ground was a back alley between two warehouses in Chinatown. We picked it on purpose, filthy enough to remind Remo who he was dealing with, quiet enough for no one to hear if things went sideways.Rain slicked the asphalt, turning puddles into oil-slick mirrors. The whole block stank of garbage and gutter rot. I liked it. Set the tone.Luca stood to my left, a mountain in black with his hands in his coat pockets. Dante leaned against a wall, flipping through the contract in his file like he was prepping a Supreme Court case.Then Remo showed up.Two goons at his back, same usual dog-breath energy. He wore a black coat over a suit, but the desperation showed.“Gentlemen,” he said, forcing civility. “Let’s get this over with.”I smiled and lit a cigarette. I didn’t offer him one.“You got the paperwork?” I asked Dante.Dante smacked the file into Remo’s chest like he was handing over a death sentence.“Read it. Every word and read it slowly,” Dante said, “We’re no
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡Eight weeks of waking up wrapped in Adriano's arms, somewhere impossibly beautiful. From the overwater villa in Bora Bora, where the ocean was so clear I could see fish dancing beneath my feet, to the glass igloo in Lapland, where we fell asleep under the northern lights. From Positano’s sun-soaked cliffs to a private riad in Marrakech that smelled like roses and saffron. We’d shared midnight picnics under the Eiffel Tower. Raced yachts off the coast of Capri. We drank champagne in a rooftop hot tub in Kyoto.Everywhere we went, people stared. Maybe it was the custom-tailored suits, or the glittering watch on his wrist. Maybe it was the way his security always formed a discreet but deadly circle around us. He always had his hand on me, my hip, my neck, the small of my back, like he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else breathing too close.I kept thinking, this can’t be real. This kind of love, this kind of life, it was the stuff people only got for a week
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡I woke up to sunlight. I blinked against it, still half-asleep, limbs heavy, brain fuzzy. And then I moved just a little.Oh.I let out the softest whimper, my face scrunching. Everything hurt. My thighs ached, my hips were sore, and my holes burned with every twitch of a muscle. I shifted again and bit down on a gasp as the pressure hit all over again.That was when his heavy muscled arm wrapped tight around my waist.“You shouldn’t be moving yet,” he muttered, voice rasped and ruined from sleep. “Not after last night.”I smiled, because I couldn’t help it, “I just wanted to stretch.”“You stretch, you bleed,” he said, already propping himself up. “Don’t make me tie you to the bed.”I giggled before I could stop myself, and then immediately winced again.He leaned over me, his eyes dark as he scanned my face. “You’re in pain.”“A little,” I said sweetly, trying not to look like I was dying. “Nothing I can’t handle. I mean… I guess that’s what happens when you
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up fast, off my knees, off the floor, onto the bed and spun me around like I weighed nothing. I let out a breathless laugh, but it died in my throat the second I saw where he was taking me. The mirror. He dragged me to the edge of the bed and bent me forward, palms flat on the mattress, knees sinking into the sheets. My ass up. Back arched. Face pointed directly at the floor-length mirror across from us. The one he installed a week ago. I’d thought it was decorative. Now I knew better. He stood behind me, both hands spreading my ass. I could feel him, not inside yet, just pressed there, pulsing, wet with spit. “I put that mirror there for a reason,” he muttered, “So I could watch your face,” he said, “the first time I take your ass.” My eyes met his in the mirror. His hand came down hard on my ass, the sound echoing off the walls. I yelped, thighs clenching, but stayed in place, back arched, body already opening for