Se connecterEleanor's heart pounded as Armando backed her into a corner, his eyes dark and unrelenting. "Why do you keep resisting me, Eleanor?" he asked, his voice a low threat. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her wrist tightened. "I won't be your possession, Armando." A slow, dangerous smirk curled on his lips. "We'll see about that." His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her against him, the warmth of his body making it hard to think straight. Before she could protest, his mouth claimed hers, fierce and demanding. She wanted to fight, but the intensity of his kiss shattered her defenses. Her hands, instead of pushing him away, gripped his shoulders, drawing him closer. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. "You can lie to yourself all you want," Armando whispered against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine, "but you can't deny what's between us." Eleanor's heart raced with conflicting emotions, knowing he was right-and hating herself for how much she wanted him. * * * * * * Eleanor's life spirals out of control when she is sold to Armando, a merciless Mafia boss. Their fiery confrontations spark a powerful and dangerous connection neither can deny. As betrayal and threats close in from every direction, Eleanor must decide if she can trust the man who holds her captive or if their growing bond will destroy them both. In a world of ruthless power struggles, love becomes the ultimate risk.
Voir plusARMANDO The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV. My study was always like this—dim lighting, the faint smell of leather, and silence that made it easier to think. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the screen. The news anchor’s voice droned on about the recent police crackdowns. Another raid. Another group of men in cuffs.It wasn’t surprising. The authorities had been tightening their grip for months, thinking they could dismantle everything piece by piece. It wouldn’t work. I had been in this game too long to let it. Still, I watched, paying close attention to the details. You never knew when a name, a face, or a location might give you something to act on.My fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. A bad habit, but one I didn’t bother correcting. It helped me focus. The footage shifted to a warehouse raid—men dragged out with their hands behind their backs, flashing lights bouncing off the walls. Sloppy. Someone had slipped up, and now they were paying for it.T
ELEANOR My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting me from my thoughts. The screen lit up, and my stomach dropped when I saw the private number. My fingers hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the phone. I already knew what to expect, and that only made my heart pound harder.It was a text. “It’s time. Now or never. Face the consequences if you choose the latter.”I stared at the message, the words blurring as the weight of them hit me. I had been preparing for this moment but now that it was here, I felt paralyzed, my mind racing but coming up empty.I had already decided. I had to do this. There was no way out. Months of torment from Armando had driven me to this point, and Don Salvatore’s threats left no room for hesitation. My sister’s life depended on me going through with this.But there was one massive problem.I didn’t have the poison. I had no idea how to get it, where to find it, or even how to use it if I did. I had spent weeks stuck in limbo, hoping for some kind of so
ELEANORSeveral days had passed since Don Salvatore’s call, but I hadn’t known peace since. My mind was stuck in a constant cycle of worry and my heart heavy with fear. I couldn’t eat because the mere thought of food made my stomach churn and my body began growing weaker—my skin pale and dry. It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong with me, but there was no one to confide in—not here.And Armando? Despite the way I looked or sounded, he hadn’t eased up on my duties. I should’ve been a bit relieved that someone was hired to share the workload, but instead, I felt uneasy around her. She seemed off, like she didn’t belong. There was something about the way she carried herself—always watching, always calculating—that put me on edge. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was trouble.Mabel’s presence didn’t lighten my load. Her role was clear—cook whatever Armando wanted whenever he wanted it. Meanwhile, I was still left with everything else—the cleaning, the mopping, the
ELEANORI scrubbed the last dish, letting the warm water run over my hands until my fingers felt numb. The rhythmic clinking of plates against the sink was the only sound in the kitchen, but my thoughts were far from calm. Armando’s words from earlier echoed in my mind, and then there was Don Salvatore. His threats, my sister’s pale face in that photo—it all coiled around my chest like a vice.I kept scrubbing—pretending the kitchen was my sanctuary—and for a moment it almost worked, but then the door creaked. My body stiffened.I turned slowly—the soapy plate still in my hands—and my eyes fell on the profile of Armando leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His eyes were calm, but there was an edge to his gaze—the kind that always seemed to confuse me.“You’ve been hiding yourself away a lot lately,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I don’t remember giving you permission to turn into a ghost. Not in my house.”I placed the plate on the drying rack, wiping my hands on a towel
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