LOGINI wonder if I will ever be delivered from the hell that I have to live everyday. My dad has been a drunk ever since my mother walked out on us. I was only five when I realized that my dad was not like other dads. I had to clean up his messes. There were time I could not even go to school because I did not have any clothes to wear that fit. I knew that if social services got involved my dad would be angry and take it out on me. Things got worse when my dad became involved with the mafia. It was a way to work off his gambling debts. I was worried that one night he would not come home because he had gotten into deep with the mafia. That fear became a reality when my dad walked in with Joseph Rossi, the largest mafia boss in the state. “Selena, pack your things, you are going to be living with Mr. Rossi from now on.” I did not understand what was going on. “Why dad? I do not understand why I am going to live with him.” Mr. Rossi cleared his throat “You are going to live with me now because I own you. Your dad traded you to me to pay off his gambling debts.” I tried not to cry but I could not stop the tears - my dad sold me; I am now officially in hell.
View MoreThe night before the meeting with the De Angelos, Selena and I sat on the balcony overlooking the city we had sworn to protect. The stars above were a stark contrast to the shadowy streets below, a reminder of the dichotomy of our lives. "We can do this," she said, her voice soft but strong. I took her hand in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin against my own. "We will," I promised. "For our children, and for the future we've worked so hard to build." Our gazes locked, the love between us as unshakeable as the concrete jungle beneath our feet. Together, we had faced , and we knew this was just another challenge to overcome. The following day, the De Angelos arrived at our mansion, their presence a stark reminder of the alliances we had forged over the years. Their leader, Don Carlo De Angelos, walked in with an air of authority that matched my own, his eyes taking in the tension that hung in the air. "My dear friends," he said, his voice filled with concern. "What brings y
We sat in the nursery, holding each other, until the early light of dawn began to peek through the windows. The storm outside had passed, leaving the city washed clean and ready for a new day. Our hearts, however, remained heavy with the weight of our son's words. The following days were filled with tension, as Selena and I navigated the delicate dance of family dynamics and mafia politics. Michael was distant, often leaving the house early and returning late, his mind clearly preoccupied with the burdens he felt as the soon-to-be Don. Isabella, torn between her love for her brother and her loyalty to us, tried her best to mediate, but the divide grew wider with each passing moment. In private, Selena and I discussed our strategy, our voices hushed so as not to carry beyond the confines of our suite. "We must be firm," she said, her eyes gleaming with determination. "We can't let him believe that love is weakness." "Agreed," I replied, stroking her belly gently. "But we must
Isabella looked between us before slowly leaving the room, her gaze lingering on Michael, a silent plea for her brother to come to his senses. The moment the door clicked shut, the dam holding back my anger broke. "You dare to question my love for your mother, for our unborn child?" I roared, slamming my fist on the desk. "You dare to speak of survival as if love and family are weaknesses?" Michael flinched but held his ground. "Father, you're not seeing the big picture," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "This isn't about us, it's about the Family. We need a leader who will make the hard decisions, not one who is blinded by emotion." I took a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check. "You think I don't make hard decisions?" I leaned forward, my eyes boring into his. "Every day I wake up with the weight of this city on my shoulders. Every day I make choices that could mean life or death for those I love." "But this isn't about you," Michael said, his voice ris
The whispers grew into a murmur as the Families watched the confrontation unfold, the room buzzing with tension. Selena’s eyes searched mine, her hand trembling as she tried to process Michael’s outburst. The baby, once a whisper of joy, had become a battle cry for a struggle we hadn’t anticipated.I hated the sadness in Selena's eyes. She was holding up the best she could until the guests started to leave the party."Let's go to our room," I suggested, my arm around her waist. She nodded, her steps heavy with the weight of Michael's words.Once we were alone, Selena sank onto the bed, her hands covering her face. "I can't believe this," she sobbed. "Our own son, telling us to... to end our baby's life."I sat beside her, pulling her into an embrace. "He has some explaining to do to me, my love. I have not completely stepped down as Don, and will not allow him to talk like that to you."Selena's sobs grew quieter, her body relaxing slightly into my embrace. "Joseph, make love to me?






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