LOGINJacob Blake never expected to be married to a man who might kill him in his sleep. But when his brother's life is threatened by the mafia, he signs a contract with the devil himself, Leo Moretti. Rich, ruthless, and wrapped in shadows, Leo is the dominant heir to a criminal empire... and Jacob’s new husband. The marriage is a transaction. No love, no promises, just power, silence, and secrets. But Jacob quickly learns that Leo’s world runs deeper than blood and bullets. Behind the cold exterior is a man hiding an identity no one dares speak of. And behind Jacob’s defiance is a heart that refuses to stay untouched. They hate each other, but that hate burns. They fight each other, but every fight draws them closer. And when danger closes in, what began as survival becomes obsession. This is not a love story. It’s a war, between control and chaos, lies and longing. And when you fall for your killer, happily ever after isn’t guaranteed. In a world of lies, power, and blood, can hate burn into something even more dangerous?
View MoreThe venom raced through Leo’s veins like liquid wildfire.He staggered back from the mirror, fists clenched, pupils dilated. His reflection fractured, not just glass, but identity. One second, he saw himself and the next second, he saw his father’s dead eyes.Then nothing but red.A scream… no, a roar… tore from his throat.The door burst open. Five men, faces wrapped in gauze and black cloth, moved like shadows, silent, synchronized assassins.The first lunged. Leo didn’t think, he moved. He ducked low and slammed his fist into the attacker’s knee. A crack. A howl. He ripped the man’s knife from his belt and drove it into his throat.He didn’t even blink.The second came from behind. Leo twisted, inhumanly fast, and caught the man mid-air, slamming him against the concrete wall with a bone-splitting crunch. Blood painted the light switch.The venom. It wasn’t killing him. It was unlocking something.The third and fourth attackers hesitated. One drew a gun.Bad move.Leo grabbed a ste
The lights didn’t flicker back on.They burned.A blinding white flooded the chamber like a surgical theater, sharp, sterile, unforgiving. It washed over the blood, the broken goblet shards, the shattered illusions.Leo squinted, blinking against the sudden glare.Jacob was gone, so was the body of the false Emilio.Only Adira remained.And her gun was still smoking.“Where is he?” Leo asked, voice rough.Adira didn’t answer.Instead, a screen descended from the ceiling. Old-school, like something from a forgotten war bunker. It hummed to life with static, then a face appeared.A woman.Mid-thirties, maybe.Unmarked by time but soaked in vengeance.Jet-black hair. Crimson lipstick. Eyes like razors.She smiled.“Hello, children of the Valez.”Leo stiffened. Alina took a step back.“Who the hell are you?” Alina hissed.The woman leaned forward on the screen, calm as a god in the making.“I am the reason Emilio Valez lived past forty. I’m the reason your father’s heart stopped... and re
The darkness wasn’t silent.It breathed.The kind of breath that echoes off concrete and memory. That slithers down your spine like a serpent waking in its nest.Leo reached for Alina, but her hand was already gone.“Alina?” he called.Silence.No reply.Just the cold mechanical sound of the intercom cracking back to life.“One of you is a Valez. The other... an imposter.”The voice wasn’t just familiar, it was ancestral. Smooth, regal and absolutely lethal.Leo’s mind raced.If that was Emilio Valez, truly him, then everything he thought he knew was a lie. His rise to power. The succession and the blood oath.Even Jacob’s death… could’ve been staged.“Alina!” he barked again, this time louder.Still nothing.Then, a thin beam of light blinked on, illuminating the center of the room. There, resting on a pedestal, was a syringe. Next to it, two antique goblets. One red and one black.Another voice echoed through the chamber. This one was feminine and younger.“Drink from the right cup,
Athens was quieter than Leo remembered. But maybe that was because he wasn’t the same man who once walked these streets looking for art and peace. Now? He was hunting blood, and behind him, like the shadow of every sin he ever committed, Alina walked with a single pistol strapped to her thigh and a flash drive clenched in her fist.They broke into the safe house just after 3AM.No alarms.No guards.Too easy.Leo’s instincts didn’t trust it.“You said this is where the footage came from,” he muttered, scanning the dusty room.Alina nodded. “The location metadata checks out, so whoever filmed Jacob was here.”The walls were lined with old security monitors, most of them dead. But one flickered weakly, like it was gasping for relevance. Alina moved to it, plugging the drive in and letting the footage load.Leo paced behind her, muscles coiled.The screen lit up and there he was.Jacob…. strapped to a chair, face bloodied, but still... alive.Leo stepped forward. “Pause it.”Alina obeyed
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