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He's Jealous, But Won't Admit It
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2025-07-22 08:00:34CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE
The past few weeks blurred into paint samples, floor plans, and late-night Pinterest boards. I was constantly on my feet. Sweeping. Re-measuring. Adjusting the lighting to find the softest glow.This place, my place, was finally taking shape.Luca parked out front again today. He never complained, even though I dragged him from hardware stores to plant nurseries to antique shops where the air smelled like mothballs and forgotten dreams.“Be honest,” I said as we stepped inside the shop. “Is the ivy too much?”He followed my gaze up the wall where vines snuck up along the old brick like fingers. “It’s charming,” he said, brushing dust from a crate. “But it kinda looks like it’s alive. Like it’ll eat someone.”I laughed. “That’s the point. I want it to feel like a secret garden. Something you stumble into, not a polished chain store.”He gave a little smile, stepping over a roll of carpet I hadn’t la
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent The Full Plan of Gavriil's Death
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent He's Ready to Take Her Back
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CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVECHECHEN-INGUSH BORDER – 48 hours after the bargainThe convoy was small.Two armored G-Wagens, blacked-out windows, no plates.Four of Gavriil’s most trusted men in the lead car.Me in the second, alone in the back seat, wearing black fatigues, hair braided tight, Glock 19 on my thigh and a suppressed AK-12 across my lap.Gavriil had kissed me goodbye at the gate like a husband sending his wife to the market.He was still limping slightly from the night he’d tried to fuck me into submission.I’d left him sleeping it off, lips swollen, back shredded, cock raw.He thought he’d won something.I was about to win everything.The meeting point was an abandoned Soviet-era collective farm outside Kizlyar, halfway between Grozny and the Ingush border.Neutral ground.Burned-out barns, rusted tractors, the smell of old wheat and cordite in the air.Both sides w
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