ArabellaI had never seen Marco so rattled.He was barking orders at the staff like a madman. “Wipe that again! My grandmother doesn’t like spots, do you hear me?”His voice was sharp, but his expression looked almost… anxious. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead despite the cool breeze from the air conditioner, and he kept pacing from one end of the room to the other.I sat quietly on the velvet couch in the living room, watching him. “Is the food ready?” he snapped. “It better all be fresh. Ma has a peculiar taste and a sharp nose. She’ll know if it’s not organic. Can you imagine that?” He let out a nervous chuckle.I tilted my head, studying him. “You’re nervous.”Marco paused. His eyes flicked to mine, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “She’s not like anyone you’ve met before.”Before I could reply, the massive doors creaked open. The entire house fell into silence. The sound of heels echoed sharply against the marble floor. And then… she appeared - Marco’s grand
SixTen years. Ten fucking years of blood, bullets, and brotherhood.I stared at the ornate ceiling of Don Vincenzo’s study, counting the cherubs painted in some long-dead artist’s vision of heaven. Ironic, considering the hell that transpired in the room below them.I lifted my gaze back to his, remembering all those stern lessons from my childhood. The Don had drilled it into me countless times: a man who couldn’t maintain eye contact wasn’t worthy of respect or trust.Even now, I could hear his voice in my head, sharp with contempt for those he considered weak.In our world, weakness wasn’t just a flaw – it was an invitation to the grave. So I held his stare, steady and unwavering, even as my pulse thundered in my ears.“You understand what you’re asking, Six?” The Don’s voice carried the weight of tradition. Of rules written in blood. “La fratellanza is for life.”I kept my expression neutral, years of training holding my features in check. “I understand, Don Vincenzo. But I’ve se
CarmenI fled the house in a blur of motion, rage burning so hot in my chest it scorched away all rational thought. My father’s voice boomed behind me, each word a command that made less and less sense as the blood rushed in my ears.The tears came unbidden, stinging my eyes, threatening to spill over – but I wouldn’t let them fall. Not yet. Not here. I wouldn’t give him that victory. My father had taught me that tears were weakness, and today – of all days – I wouldn’t be weak. Not when he was wrong. Not when everything he’d said felt like betrayal.The key fob shook in my hand as I pressed the ignition button from a distance. The engine roared to life, offering me a way out.I quickly jumped into the driver’s seat, glancing at the security guards in my rearview mirror as they rushed out of their posts in concern. I hit the gas, leaving them behind as I sped down the driveway.I arrived at the club and parked at the entrance. Maybe what I needed was one wild night—a night away from m
SixThat was all the prompting I needed. As I closed the distance between us, I took off the remaining clothing I had on. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she instinctively took a few steps back.“Get on your knees,” I ordered.Her hesitation was evident as she stared up at me, trying to gauge my intentions. I walked up to her and wrapped my hand around her neck in a firm chokehold, not tight, but enough to command her attention.I held her gaze, watching emotions flicker across her face. First, shock, then realization.“Get on your knees, Carmen. You will do as I say, or I won’t fuck you.” My lips twisted into a faint smirk.I saw the internal battle reflected on her face. I was a stranger, and this was humiliating for her. She’d probably expected a simple one-night stand with no complications, no power struggles.While I wanted the same, my desire had taken on a peculiar edge. Something about her - her curvy, gorgeous body or maybe the way her defiance stirred me, made me want to l
SixMorning arrived too soon, sunlight streaming through curtains I didn’t remember closing. The sheets beside me were empty but still warm.The muffled sound of running water from the bathroom pulled me back into reality. Last night had been wild, too wild to forget.I closed my eyes, replaying flashes of Carmen’s face, her body, the way she screamed my name.My phone buzzed on the nightstand, cutting through the haze. I grabbed it.Flight Reminder. New York.The assignment.This was my ticket out. The last task Don Vincenzo had for me. Complete it, and I’d finally leave this life behind.I got dressed quickly, slipping into my usual black-on-black attire. I didn’t wait for her to finish her shower.No goodbyes, no promises, no attachments. Just another fleeting moment to lock away with the rest of my sins.I paused briefly at the bathroom door, almost willing her to step out. Instead, I turned and left, my footsteps echoing in the silence.Twenty-four hours later, I stood in Capo Ma
ArabellaI walked into the gala, each step measured, each movement draped in a practiced smile. Outside, I was elegance personified. Inside, I was unraveling.My palms were clammy, my heartbeat thrumming uncomfortably fast. But no one could know. I kept my posture impeccable, waving at a few familiar faces as I passed.Still, my thoughts kept spiraling back to that moment at the Capo’s mansion—the moment Marco’s hand landed on my waist, possessive and suffocating.His touch still lingered, a phantom weight on my skin. “Six,” Marco had declared, his voice carrying across the room like a spotlight. “Come meet my fiancée. She’s a beautiful woman, you’ll see.”I had glanced up then, the air in my lungs catching as my gaze collided with his. Six. The man I’d worked so hard to forget. The man whose penetrating eyes could strip me bare in a way that no one else ever had.The memories of that night came flooding back - sharp, vivid, relentless. The feel of his hands, his breath skimming my ea
SixKatherine’s eyes gleamed as she looked at me, a huge smile on her lips.Usually, I would have enjoyed the attention. She was a beautiful woman, probably the daughter of one of the powerful men in the room.I would have engaged with her, stared into those flirty eyes just for the fun of it, but I couldn’t.The thought wasn’t all that appealing anymore, not when she was right beside me, and I could feel her eyes traveling over me. I wondered what she was thinking, what was running through her mind.I turned to look at her, and she raised a brow at me. I frowned, feeling confused.Katherine cleared her throat, a sheepish smile on her face. I turned back to her. “What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Arabella came to my rescue. “Katherine said something. She was expecting a reply...”I stole a quick glance at her, wondering if there was a hint of jealousy in her voice or if it was all in my head. I turned back to stare at Katherine and flashed her one of my rare full smiles
ArabellaSparks flew when our fingers touched. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm, leaving me breathless and confused. I couldn’t understand the tension between us.Why did staring into those midnight-black eyes make my heart race like a frightened rabbit?It was hard to explain what was happening. I pulled my hand away as if burned, and he did the same. The waiter was still staring at us with expectant eyes, his gaze making my skin prickle with discomfort.I dramatically cleared my throat, embarrassment warming my cheeks, and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before taking a glass of wine and walking off, desperate to escape the suffocating tension.I could hear his footsteps following closely behind me, each one sending a wave of anxiety through my body. I took a large sip of my wine, the bitter liquid doing little to calm my frayed nerves.Six was a distraction I couldn’t afford, especially not tonight. I had an important task ahead, and fear of failure clawed at my insides.My grip on my pu
ArabellaI had never seen Marco so rattled.He was barking orders at the staff like a madman. “Wipe that again! My grandmother doesn’t like spots, do you hear me?”His voice was sharp, but his expression looked almost… anxious. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead despite the cool breeze from the air conditioner, and he kept pacing from one end of the room to the other.I sat quietly on the velvet couch in the living room, watching him. “Is the food ready?” he snapped. “It better all be fresh. Ma has a peculiar taste and a sharp nose. She’ll know if it’s not organic. Can you imagine that?” He let out a nervous chuckle.I tilted my head, studying him. “You’re nervous.”Marco paused. His eyes flicked to mine, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “She’s not like anyone you’ve met before.”Before I could reply, the massive doors creaked open. The entire house fell into silence. The sound of heels echoed sharply against the marble floor. And then… she appeared - Marco’s grand
SixShe was already at the table when I walked in. I didn’t expect that. I thought I was doing a good job of avoiding her, but apparently, I wasn’t. I hesitated at the doorway, but it wouldn’t make any sense to just turn away. So I walked in.Arabella sat there quietly, a slice of toast in her hand, barely touched. She looked up the second she noticed me.Her eyes lit up before she could hide it. “Good morning,” she said softly.Her eyes when they lit up sent my heart racing, and the calm in her voice. I wanted to answer. I wanted to say something. But I didn’t. I stayed quiet instead.I went to the coffee pot, poured myself a mug just to do something with my hands. My heart was pounding in my chest like I’d just run here, even though I hadn’t. I didn’t even take a sip. I couldn’t.I looked at her once, just once, and I knew if I sat down across from her, I’d start asking questions I didn’t want answers to. I didn’t trust myself to stop at just asking questions.So I turned around and
ArabellaThe bedroom was too quiet.I sat curled at the edge of the bed, the weight of everything pressing on my chest. My fingers twisted the edge of the blanket over and over.It had been days, maybe weeks, but it all blurred together.Sunlight came and went, tracing the same pattern across the walls, and I didn’t move. I couldn’t.My body was here, but my mind... it felt suspended somewhere else. Somewhere cold and quiet. Somewhere no one could reach me.Six wouldn’t look at me, let alone talk to me. And Marco… Marco had stolen something from me I couldn’t get back. No amount of washing would scrub that memory from my skin.I showered once, maybe twice a day. My clothes stayed in piles. My reflection in the mirror looked like someone else. My once vibrant blue eyes were now dull.My lips were cracked. A bruise bloomed across my arm where he’d held me too tight. I couldn’t touch it. I just stared.He didn’t even say sorry.I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t find my voice. If I screa
SixI bumped into Francesco at the doorway as soon as I stepped into the mansion.He looked up at me with a smirk on his face. “Six, what a pleasant morning it is, isn’t it?”I could never engage Francesco in small talk, especially not today. I was going through it.The night before, I had just learned that Arabella had slept with Marco, and I still didn’t know how to process it. I had shelved it to another part of my head, but I still couldn’t sleep.I made to walk past him, but he stopped me. “Oh Six, aren’t you always the uptight one? You know we should get along. It looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Don’t you think we can learn to tolerate each other at least?” He extended his hand towards me. “Truce?”I appeared to think about it for a few seconds, then shook my head. “No,” and brushed past him.“Marco has asked you to come up to him; he has something important to discuss with you.”I studied the amused expression on his face, wondering why he was all smiles. “
ArabellaHe chuckled, a look of amusement in his eyes as he stared at me. “You’re mad that we fucked?”I was shocked—shocked that he would describe what he did to me like that. Appalled that he thought what had happened was consensual. Didn’t he hear me crying, begging?Didn’t he feel the struggle, hear me crying out in pain? I shut my eyes to stop the tears from falling, but it was hopeless. I was bawling my eyes out.“No, tell me, Arabella. What were you thinking was gonna happen? That I’m never going to touch you? Is that it? We’re going to be married and never fuck…?”I didn’t say anything. I averted my gaze, but he grabbed my chin and turned my face toward him so I could look at him.“No, Bella, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t think we were going to fuck at some point, huh?”“You and I know that’s not what happened between us,” I said in a tear-laden voice. “You forced yourself on me. I didn’t want this…”“I asked you nicely at first, and what did you say?” he asked.I
ArabellaI didn’t know how long I had waited in my room, waiting for everything to quiet down, staring off into space, lost in my own thoughts—the same thought that had plagued my mind all day.I rose to my feet and quietly tiptoed to the door. It was well past midnight; surely no one was up, I thought to myself. I gently opened the door, careful not to make any noise.My bare feet made no sound as I slipped out of my room. I wrapped my arms around myself, bowed my head, and kept to the shadows. I didn’t want anyone to see me.Not Marco. I was sick of him—and especially not Six. I had spent the whole day trying to avoid him, with terrible attempts, but at least it had kept him away from me. I couldn’t face him, not feeling the way I did now.The kitchen was dim, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the tall windows. I reached for a glass and opened the tall fridge.Light flickered through as I grabbed a carton of milk and poured myself a glass, my hands trembling slightly as I b
SixThe moment I stepped into the mansion, I spotted Francesco lounging in the living room, a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers. The smoke curled toward the ornate ceiling, drifting like a threat.He looked up, his eyes trailing me as I moved toward the staircase.I didn’t stop.“Going to see Arabella?” he asked casually, though his voice carried a sharp edge.I paused on the first step, body half-turned.“She wasn’t feeling well yesterday.” Francesco took a slow drag, exhaling smoke. “She’s not to be disturbed today. Said so herself.”That stopped me fully.“She left a note with Maria,” he added, flicking ash into a crystal tray. “No one but the maid is allowed in. Food, drinks. That’s it. Capo okayed it, so…”My jaw clenched. Something was off. I wanted to argue, to press him for details, but Francesco wasn’t stupid.He’d know I’d smelled something wrong. So I only nodded once and turned away.He let out a short, amused exhale. “We’ve got a meeting. The Capo will be here any
ArabellaI blanked out so I wouldn’t feel.Not his pressing weight on me, or the sharp pain I felt at my hilt. His fingernails dug into my waistline, and I lay there helplessly. I couldn’t move. I didn’t move.Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared into space.And then, just like that, it was over.He stood, breathing heavily, his eyes raking over my body like he’d conquered something. Like this proved something. Like I was something to be claimed.He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable now, like the fire had burned out. “You should be grateful,” he said. “I didn’t hurt you.”I blinked back the tears and averted my gaze. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t stand to see what I’d once trusted become a stranger.Then he turned and walked out.And I broke.I don’t know how long I lay there. It might’ve been minutes. Hours. Maybe longer.Eventually, I dragged myself up and locked the door behind him. My hands were shaking. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore. My voice was gone, l
ArabellaI heard the footsteps before I saw him.I knew it was Marco before the door even creaked open. The way it dragged against the floor sent a chill through me. I could tell he was drunk from one look at him.He stumbled inside, not even bothering to close the door behind him. His eyes were wild, glassy and bloodshot, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, collar askew like he’d been tearing at it.“They came for me,” he muttered. “That day at the dress fitting, it was intentional…” His speech was slurred. “It was not a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It wa—premeditated. Those bloody bastards planned it!” he yelled.He staggered, almost losing his footing. “They think they can take me out. Me. Marco Falcone.” He laughed. It was a hollow sound, empty—just like the look in those dark eyes.I rose slowly from the chair by the window. “Marco…” My voice cracked. I was terrified to the bone, watching him in this state, not knowing what his next move would be.“They sent me