Until He Breaks Me

In the beginning, I met a man... Lilith I want everything life can offer. Money, fame, anything... And I have it all. “You cannot make me get married to him, Father! I have other things to do with my life and Rayne De Luca of all people, he belongs to a rival family, what is going on in your head, Father!” My breath comes out in short gasps as I stare pointedly at my Father. The fact that he would sell my hands in marriage to a rival family is absurd and completely unacceptable. I want to scream. Throw fists. Scratch my braids out. Heavens I want to strangle my so-called Fiance even before I meet him. No one is listening to me, heck no one has ever listened to me. Our family dealt in wines an of course other dealings that were definitely not clean, but we are one of the two Italian families that ruled Crown City and even Italy at large. If you would put a name on it, we are literally the Mafia. The De Luca family is the second Mafia family, and of course the one whos

Rayne Lilith trembles against me and I love it. I relish in the fact that even when her eyes glares at me with boldness, her body betrays her emotion. Chris is a fucking idiot to have given his daughter to me in place of an alliance. The Russo Don seemed to have forgotten that the hostility between us was more than just mere rivalry. He seemed to have forgotten what his family did to my brother fourteen years ago. If he forgot, I did not forget and now I will take out every rage churning in me, upon his daughter. "You little little feisty thing," I breathe against her ear. "I hate it when people do not listen to me, so now when I let you go, you fucking strip!" Her eyes blazes with a bravery I rarely see in the women in our world. "I will NOT strip for you, Rayne," she spits out amidst chokes, and with determination, rips my hold from her neck. I blink, rage seeping into my skin. "It is adorable that you think you have a say in this vixen..." My statement is interrupted b

Lilith "My black card?" He asks. "Don't you have one? I was under the notion I was marrying a billionaire, was I wrong?" I am pulling his legs, yanking at his ego and I can already see the anger brewing in his gaze. "You were not wrong," he grits, dipping his hands into his pocket and bringing out the card. I reach to collect it but he snatched it up. "You should freshen up first," he says, raking his eyes down my body. I roll my eyes. "I can do that later, but right now I need to eat," I say in a whiny voice. I reach out for the card and take it with a wink. "Are you coming with me, or do you want me to enjoy the view of the city of light alone?" Thirty minutes later, I am dragging a brooding Rayne De Luca with me as I explore the city of Paris, smiling widely while buying every snack I came across. "Is this your idea of eating out, or are just being a nuisance?" I roll my eyes at Rayne's question, coming to a stop in front of an art shop, where series of painted a

Lilith There was no masking Rayne's anger, it was as evident as day, pulsing in his eyes and I could see his jaw working as we drove back to the hotel. The journey from the car back to our suite was quite a torturing short one because before I could blink, Rayne had heaved me into his arms once he killed the engine, and carried me into the hotel like I weighed nothing. I knew what to expect with my Father's anger, I knew what to do to block it all out, but for Rayne I know nothing. I do not know what to expect, and that scares me even more than the anger blazing in his eyes. "You just like pulling at my legs, don't you sweet vixen?" His voice boomed as he slammed the door shut, pushing me against it. Nothing in his voice spoke of joke. I flinched but being the stubborn woman I was, I would still try to resist. "I don't know what you are talking about, Rayne," I muttered trying not to blink at the intensity of his gaze on mine. "Oh my little sweet vixen," he seethed, his eyes

RAYNE Being back in Crown City should have been a breath of fresh air for me. After all the hassle of finding Carlo, losing men, and dealing with missing shipments, I should’ve felt some relief. But in my line of work, nothing was ever a breath of fresh air. My gaze dropped to Monte’s bloodied form, lying hooked up to oxygen, his eyes shut. “You didn’t tell me the only survivor was in a coma, Lorenzo,” I spat, irritation edging my tone. “Apologies, Boss. I did tell you he was in critical condition.” I blew out a sigh. Of course. “Your father requested a dinner with you,” Lorenzo added carefully. “He did, didn’t he?” “With your wife.” My wife. The Russo girl. Pretty. Dangerous. Loud-mouthed. I arched a brow. “Of course, my wife.” But something itched at the back of my mind. “Give me the security footage again,” I ordered. Lorenzo didn’t question it. He handed me the tablet, and I scrubbed through the grainy clip, pausing and z