เข้าสู่ระบบAdrianoTuesday night blurred into Wednesday morning.And what a fucking eventful Tuesday night, Liana lost the plot. I still need to unpack how strange that whole scenario was.Because front and centre to her reaction was Luca. He had stayed the night and might be here for a bit.A car bomb detonated just one block from his penthouse just after 7am yesterday — close enough to shatter windows and send a very clear message.So now he sits across from me in my home office, both of us running on caffeine and fury.“They’re getting reckless,” Luca mutters. “They’re desperate,” I correct.Maps and reports cover the desk between us as we discuss escalation — real escalation this time.No more measured responses. No more warnings. “We hit their financing next,” Luca says. “Cut supply chains completely.”I nod slowly, already calculating. "And then sabotage the Cartel deal. That will be a biggie."Before either of us can continue, both our phones ring simultaneously.Father. I answer immedi
Liam The hits keep coming.Not clean strikes. Not decisive blows. No this is like slow torture, Death by a thousand calculated cuts.Phones have not stopped ringing since dawn — captains complaining, shipments delayed, dealers spooked, profits bleeding. The Morettis are responding exactly as expected: precise, relentless, humiliatingly efficient.I stand at the window of my office, staring at the pristine grounds while Ronan waits behind me. “They’re escalating,” he says carefully.“No,” I reply. “They’re correcting the balance.” My jaw tightens. “They think fear will slow us.”I turn, my eyes meeting his. “It won’t.”Ronan nods once, already understanding where this is going.“The Mexican deal cannot be compromised,” I continue. “Move the weapons and arsenal immediately.”He blinks surprised. “To the secondary site?”“Yes. Full relocation.” My mind is already calculating risks.His brows lift slightly. "That location was always meant for emergencies only. Like a crackdown."I glow
Adriano When I reached the office – it was a real Blue Monday, the morning already carrying the unmistakable scent of retaliation. Not large enough to declare open war. But deliberate enough to send a message.Luca sat across from me in office, sipping from another cup of coffee that poor Emmet had done endless runs for. His sleeves were rolled up, tie abandoned somewhere hours ago as reports streamed in one after another. Phones buzzed, screens glowed, and the low hum of tension settled deep into my bones.“Two smaller warehouses hit,” one of our captains reported through the speaker. “Minimal losses, mostly property damage. Arson attempt contained before it spread.” I exhaled slowly, fingers drumming against the desk. Testing strikes. Probing weaknesses. The Irish were feeling out our response time.Another call followed immediately — damage to one of our commercial buildings in Brooklyn. Windows smashed, fire set in a loading bay. Sloppy compared to Chicago, but intentional.Th
It is not even ten in the morning, and already the day reeks of war. The calls started before dawn. First New York. Then everywhere else.My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since. I stand behind my desk, jaw tight, listening as another captain finishes his report — voice strained, trying and failing to sound composed. “The port warehouse was hit just before three, boss. Clean operation. They knew guard rotations. Took product and burned the rest.” I end the call without responding. Another immediately replaces it. Dealers intimidated. Street runners intercepted. Mules robbed before they even reached distribution points.Not random. Not opportunistic. Strategic. The Morettis. They aren’t reacting anymore — they’re escalating. I slam the phone onto the desk hard enough to crack the silence of the office.They think they can push into my territory. They think they can embarrass me. My mouth curls. They’ve forgotten who they’re dealing with.The pressure behind my temples, the rage bui
I sleep better than I have in a long time. No nightmares. No sudden jolts of panic. No waking with my heart racing or my mind trapped in memories I cannot escape. Just warmth. Safety. The steady rise and fall of Adriano’s chest behind me, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist like nothing in the world could reach me there. The only other time I have ever felt this safe was with Remi. And that realization both comforts and terrifies me. Because I am starting to need this — him — far more than I should. Morning light filters softly through the curtains when I slip out of bed. Adriano barely stirs, only tightening his hold briefly before releasing me with a quiet breath. I smile to myself. Poor baby, still exhausted from yesterday. He still has an hour before he has to wake up. Downstairs, I move through the kitchen easily now, preparing breakfast and packing his lunch the way I’ve learned he likes it. The routine feels… natural. Easy as if we are a real couple and have been doi
I encircle the base firmly to find some relief, swiping up and down a few times. The more she stares, the more I seem to grow and throb, tip leaking like a faucet. “Oh my Heavens...” she points, flushes, looks at it and then quickly looks away. “That is huge...it will break me..” she whispers. She takes a single finger and tentatively as if it will bite, strokes the swollen, glistening head. “So hard, yet silky” she says in awe. My cock swells even more at her praise and twitches. She pulls her hand back quickly, blue eyes snapping to mine. She wrinkles her nose and stares at it sternly before tapping it twice. “Naughty boy” she scolds my hungry cock. I want to laugh at her seriousness. The innocence of the moment hits me harder than seduction ever could. I am aching, full to bursting but I won’t rush her. I know her experience is limited and more worrying is that it might not have always been consentual. “Come in with me,” I murmur against her ear. “I want you wet and slipp
Adriano The drive to Luca’s place is not far. While I am in Billionaires Row in midtown, his penthouse is in the Tribeca Downtown stretch.His building is every bit as impressive as mine but louder.I am sure to Liana, whose eyes round to the size of saucers, it reads as another spoilt rich boy’
Adriano When I walk into the kitchen, she is already there, back to me, pulling a tray out of the warmer.She hums faintly under her breath, unaware of how mesmerizing she is. How easily she commands my entire world without even trying.She turns at the sound of my footsteps, her face lighting u
AdrianoMy eyes blink open but my mind is still in the no man’s land between sleep and waking. At first, I think I’m imagining it.Her long silky hair, her lavender and vanilla scent, the delicious petite curves cleaved to me.Soft. Warm. Familiar.Liana is wrapped around me again—leg hooked over
AdrianoThings between us are stiff, not completely broken, but fractured. Everything feels different, no longer easy, not like it used to be.There’s a carefulness now. A quiet awareness in every glance, every word. Like both of us are afraid to step wrong and shatter something fragile that hasn







