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2025-04-30 02:00:38
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Onenight with the Mafia 19
The engine hummed beneath his fingertips like a caged beast, quiet and restrained.Damien Thomas Ledger sat in the back seat of the black Mercedes, parked discreetly beneath the veil of trees bordering the estate. He leaned back, his fingers caresses beneath his chin as he watched her.Maxine Green.Even from this distance, he could see the way the wind pulled loose strands of her hair, how she squinted in the bright sunlight as she shaded her eyes and surveyed the skeletal framework of the mansion. She looked older than the last time he'd seen her, but not in a bad way. Stronger. Sharper. Resilient.And yet something in him ached at the sight of her.The last time they’d spoken, it hadn’t really been a conversation. A single night. A mistake, she probably thought. But for him? It was the one time in a long, blood-soaked life where something had felt clean.He hadn’t meant to keep tabs on her.He’d told himself, walk away. Walk away and let her forget.But he couldn’t.It started as a
Onenight with the Mafia 18
Construction on the mansion was in full swing now.Maxine found herself visiting the site more often than she needed to—not just for work, but because she wanted to see her ideas slowly transform into walls, beams, archways, and shadows. There was something sacred about watching your vision take form. Every time she stepped onto the site, something new was standing there. And strangely, it always felt... familiar.She’d worked on many buildings over the past year—apartment renovations, office floor plans, even a library extension—but none had spoken to her soul like this one. As intimidating as its purpose and scale were, something about the space resonated with her own taste. The high ceilings, the gentle flow between rooms, the hidden doors... She would never admit it out loud, but in some strange way, it felt like her house.One evening, as she wandered through what would become the central hallway, a thought struck her with such force that she froze mid-step.One day... I want to
Onenight with the Mafia 17
Maxine hadn’t expected her schedule to shift so suddenly, but with half the staff either quitting or conveniently falling “sick,” she found herself filling more roles than ever at Frank Wright’s firm. For the past two weeks, she had been working full time—no longer juggling art school on the side, no longer returning home before dusk. Between motherhood, architecture, and sleepless nights, Maxine felt the tension creeping under her skin.And now, to top it off, she had to visit the construction site of the secretive mansion they had been designing.“Do I really have to go?” she asked Frank that morning as she packed her portfolio.Frank didn’t even look up. “Yes. Peter’s waiting. He’ll drive you.”Maxine sighed and grabbed her sketch folder, the familiar unease settling into her stomach. There was something off about this entire project, and today, for the first time, she’d be standing in the middle of it.Peter, cheerful as ever, was already waiting in the parking lot, leaning casual
Onenight with the Mafia 16
Maxine sat at her desk, her hand cramping around her pencil as she stared at the third version of the same layout. Her sketches were sharp, detailed, and precise, but none of it seemed to satisfy Frank Wright. He had been hovering lately, offering too many suggestions, asking for more iterations, pushing for concepts that didn’t quite sit right in her gut.This wasn’t like the previous projects—those were elegant commercial buildings or stylish residential interiors for the wealthy. This one was different. Personal. Obsessively so. It wasn’t just a house. It was a fortress.Maxine was tasked with the early conceptual phase, and at first, she'd been thrilled. Leading the design for a full-scale residential project? It was a huge opportunity, something she’d once dreamed of. But as the details poured in, her excitement curdled into confusion.The house was to be built on a secluded plot of land just outside the city limits, surrounded by trees and accessible by only one winding road. Th
Onenight with the Mafia 15
Maxine’s life had finally begun to follow a rhythm, the kind she once thought she’d never reclaim after that night with Thomas. It wasn’t perfect—not even close—but for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of stability. She’d clawed her way out of that haunting spiral of depression, built a life around her son Noah, her studies, and her job, and though she still carried invisible wounds, they no longer bled at every thought of the past.But even so, the scars throbbed in moments of quiet. Especially in the hours just before sleep, when the world fell silent, and she was left alone with her thoughts. That night with Thomas had twisted her life into something unrecognizable, splintered her dreams into pieces. Sometimes, she thought she had glued them back together. Other times, she feared she was only pretending. No matter how much she smiled or how far she ran, there was always a small, heavy stone of worry lodged somewhere deep inside her. An unnamed fear. A lingering sha
Onenight with the Mafia 14
The weeks at Frank Wright’s firm settled into a rhythm—one that was relentless, fast-paced, and often emotionally draining. Maxine often felt like she was on a treadmill she couldn’t step off, constantly balancing motherhood, her internship, and her studies, all while trying not to lose herself in the process.But amid the chaos, Peter became a steady presence.He was the first person she saw each morning when she walked through the tall glass doors of the firm. Always with a smirk, always with a sarcastic comment about Frank’s mood for the day.“Brace yourself,” he’d whisper conspiratorially one morning. “Frank’s in a ‘burn everything’ kind of mood.”Maxine had chuckled despite herself. Peter was like that—irreverent, charming in a chaotic kind of way, and always seemingly at ease even in the most stressful situations. She liked that about him. He had this energy that cut through tension and made people feel less alone.Over time, the banter between them grew. They worked closely on
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