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Family Drama

作者: Morayo's ink
last update 最終更新日: 2025-10-23 18:06:36

Morning light slipped through the thin curtains and glass windows of the room cutting across the mess left from the night before… shirts and trousers on the floor, she's tossed aside carelessly and the faint scent of sweat still lingering in the air.

Damian lay awake already, staring at the ceiling his thoughts spinning.

His jaw tightened as flashes from last night blurred through his head, the feel of Luca’s breath against his neck, the heat and the surrendering feeling he left.

It was like he wasn't it control and that frightened him more than most things especially now.

Now that there's a likely hold of a mole in his circle, his shipments are missing and someone tried to fuck him.

And he was here fucking his pet!

He sat up abruptly, running a hand over his face.

His heart felt heavy, like it had been dipped in hot metal and solidified.

Soon, Luca stirred beside him. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. A half-smile flickered on his face as he turned to Damein. “Y
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  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   The Gala Of Wolves

    "Hold still."The tailor's assistant circled me like a vulture, pinning fabric with ruthless efficiency. I stood on a platform in Damian's bedroom, arms outstretched, while he transformed me into someone I didn't recognize."A gala?" I'd asked when Damian announced it over breakfast."The Annual Sapphire Foundation Charity Event," he'd corrected. "Where the criminal elite pretend to care about orphans while negotiating weapons deals in the bathroom.""Sounds delightful.""It is, actually." His smile had been sharp. "And you're coming with me."Now, three hours later, I stared at myself in the mirror and felt my breath catch.The tuxedo was midnight blue—so dark it was almost black, with silk lapels that caught the light. It fit like it had been painted on, emphasizing every line of my body. The assistant had styled my hair, tamed it into something elegant, and the overall effect was..."Devastating," Damian said from the doorway.I turned to find him watching me with an expression tha

  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   Learning The Language Of Violence

    The tailor came and went, leaving behind a wardrobe that probably cost more than my brother's funeral.Everything was dark—blacks, charcoals, deep navy. Colors that matched Damian's aesthetic. Colors that screamed his.I hated how good I looked in them.By evening, Damian led me down to the building's sublevels, past security checkpoints that required retinal scans and fingerprints, into what he called his "private facility."The gym was state-of-the-art. Weapons lined one wall behind reinforced glass—everything from knives to firearms to things I didn't have names for. Mats covered the floor. Punching bags hung like bodies from the ceiling."Strip to your waist," Damian ordered, already pulling off his shirt.I froze. "What?""You heard me." He stood there, torso bare, all carved muscle and ink and that jagged scar across his collarbone. "If you're going to survive in my world, you need to learn how to fight. Properly.""I know how to fight."His laugh was dark. "You know how to thro

  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   The Aftermath of Submission

    The first thing I felt was pain.Not the sharp, immediate kind that makes you scream. This was deeper. A slow, throbbing ache that radiated from my hips, my thighs, the base of my spine. Evidence of what Damian Moretti had done to me the night before.Evidence of what I'd let him do.I opened my eyes to find myself alone in his bed—a California king draped in silk sheets that probably cost more than six months' rent at my old apartment. The room was bathed in cold morning light, all steel-gray and unforgiving. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city like a god surveying his domain.Damian's domain.I sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. My wrists were bruised where the cuffs had held me. Fingerprints marked my hips in deep purple. And lower, between my legs, I could still feel him. The stretch. The burn. The complete and utter possession.I should have been disgusted with myself.Instead, I was... what? Confused? Angry?Aroused?No. Fuck that.I shoved the thought away and swu

  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   The Brother's Broadcast

    Luca's POVWe're halfway to the garage when every screen in the mansion lights up simultaneously. The television in the hallway. The security monitors. Even the digital displays on the thermostats. All showing the same image.Matteo's face."Wait," I tell Damian, stopping in my tracks. "He's not done."Damian curses under his breath but stops. We stand in the hallway, staring at the nearest screen. My brother looks directly at the camera, like he can see us standing here."Luca," he says, and my name in his voice makes my chest tight. "I know you're watching. I know you're planning to rush to that warehouse with Damian. Don't. I'm not there anymore. But I am here.""Here?" I repeat. "What does that mean?""I mean I'm closer than you think, little brother. I've been close this whole time. Watching. Waiting. Making sure you're okay."My hands are shaking. I press them against my thighs to steady them. "If you've been close, why didn't you just talk to me? Why all the games?""Because Da

  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   The Imposters Game

    Damian's POV"No."That's all I can say. Just that one word, repeated over and over as Luca shows me the enhanced footage."No. No. This isn't real. This can't be real."But the image on the screen doesn't change. Matteo's face. Clear as day. Alive. Smiling that dark, knowing smile."Damian, look at it," Luca insists, his voice desperate. "It's him. The facial recognition confirms it. It's Matteo.""It's not possible." My voice sounds strange to my own ears. Hollow. "I was there, Luca. I held him as he died. I felt his last breath. I watched the light leave his eyes.""Then explain this." Luca taps the screen. "Explain how my brother is walking around your mansion five years after you say he died."I can't. My mind is fracturing, trying to reconcile what I know with what I'm seeing. The memories are so vivid. Matteo's blood on my hands. His weight in my arms. The way he whispered my name one last time before the silence claimed him. That was real. It had to be real."It's a trick," I

  • Play Thing Of The Enemy   Ghost Protocol

    Luca's POVI can't sleep. Can't eat. Can't think about anything except that figure in the shadows.It's been six hours since Jin saw the message on the window. Six hours of my mind spinning in circles, trying to make sense of the impossible. Matteo is dead. I saw his body. I went to the autopsy. I watched them close the casket.Didn't I?The memory feels distant now, fuzzy around the edges. I remember being in a cold room. I remember crying. I remember someone pulling a sheet back to show me a face. But was it really Matteo's face? Or was I so destroyed by grief that I saw what I expected to see?"You need to rest," Damian says from the doorway of the security room. He's been checking on me every hour, worried I'm losing my grip on reality.Maybe I am."I can't rest," I tell him, eyes fixed on the screen. "Not until I know the truth."I've been watching the conference room footage on loop. Frame by frame. Second by second. The shadow appears at 8:46:47 PM. It moves through the backgro

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