"Noel, open the door."Vincenzo’s voice was firm, laced with something raw…something that made Noel’s fingers tremble against the wood. His forehead rested against the cool surface, his breath uneven.“Go away,” Noel whispered.A heavy silence settled between them before Vincenzo’s fist slammed against the door again. “Are you really going to let him touch you again?”Noel’s stomach twisted violently. He squeezed his eyes shut, his nails digging into his palms.“Yes.” His voice shook, but he forced the words out. “Just go away, Vincenzo.”“Bullshit.”Noel heard the frustration in Vincenzo’s tone, the quiet desperation simmering beneath it. “You don’t want this, Noel. I can save you. Just open the door and leave the rest to me.”Noel’s chest ached. He wanted to believe that. God, he wanted to.But Julian had the video. And if it got out…if his father saw…He sucked in a breath. “No. I don’t need your amazing grace. I don’t need your saving. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”The words
"You’re filth."The deep voice sliced through the air, stopping Noel mid-step as he carried a tray of drinks. The sound of a glass clinking against the floor followed, but Noel barely heard it.His blood turned ice cold.Slowly, he lifted his head, and there..standing in the middle of the restaurant, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit…was Ramón De Luca.Noel’s stomach dropped.The powerful crime boss. The man who built an empire with blood and steel. The man Vincenzo feared.The restaurant fell into a tense silence as whispers began spreading like wildfire. The waiters froze. Customers turned in their seats. Even the manager, a usually loud and commanding man, hesitated to interfere.Noel forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. Not here. Not now."Sir, if you need something, I can get a waiter…""I don’t need a fucking waiter," Ramón cut him off coldly. His dark eyes glinted with disgust. "I need you to get out of my son’s life."Noel exhaled sharply. So this was it."
Noel barely had time to check his phone when Aria’s call came through.“Get dressed,” she said, skipping a greeting. “Got you a gig. High-end banquet. Good money.”Noel sat up on his bed, rubbing his face. “How much?”“Enough to cover your rent for a while.”That was all he needed to hear.“I’m in. When?”“Tonight. Wear something nice.”She hung up.Noel exhaled, pushing himself up. A fancy banquet meant expensive guests, the kind who barely saw waiters as people. But he needed the money.Hours Later..At the BanquetThe air smelled like expensive perfume and champagne. Crystal chandeliers reflected off gold-trimmed walls, illuminating the crowd of powerful people dressed in designer suits and gowns. Noel adjusted the tray in his grip, keeping his posture straight.He was just here to work. Get paid. Leave.Simple.He moved through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne with a practiced smile.Then, he felt it.A gaze.Heavy. Dark.He turned slightly…and nearly froze.The man watchin
Noel stared at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers gripping the cool edge of the sink. His breath came slow and controlled, but inside, his chest tightened painfully.Vincenzo couldn’t claim him. Wouldn’t.He should have expected it.Still, the way Vincenzo had stood there, silent in the face of Matteo’s proposition, had cut deeper than he wanted to admit."Who is he to you?""It’s none of your business."Noel let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.Of course.Of course, he was nothing to Vincenzo De Luca.Just a distraction.Just some college student who got swept up in a world he didn’t belong in.But what scared him the most..what made his stomach knot…was the way Don Ramon De Luca had looked at him.That man could kill him.Easily.Noel had seen enough of the De Lucas to know they didn’t make empty threats.He exhaled sharply and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face, willing himself to push it all aside. He needed to get back to work, finish his sh
Vincenzo was losing control.His vision blurred with rage as he slammed his glass down, the sound of it hitting the table barely satisfying the storm raging inside him.Noel had left.With Matteo fucking Romano.His archenemy.His fingers tightened around the whiskey bottle before he hurled it at the far wall. Glass exploded, amber liquid dripping down like blood.He couldn’t breathe.Couldn’t think."What the fuck did my father mean when he said he was going to ‘take care of him’?"Vincenzo had never feared anyone in his life. Not the men he tortured. Not the enemies he buried. But Don Ramon De Luca? His father?He was a man whose word was law. And when he spoke of taking care of someone, it didn’t mean keeping them safe. It meant removing them from existence.Oh, hell no.Not Noel.He’d burn the whole fucking world down first.His teeth clenched, hands balling into fists as he barked, “Lucas!”His second-in-command appeared almost instantly, standing at attention.Vincenzo’s breath
Noel sat on Matteo’s massive bed, fingers gripping the edge of the sheets. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. His mind was stuck on the way Vincenzo’s eyes had burned with fury when he had left the club with Matteo.That look…dark, unreadable, deadly.Something had snapped in him. Noel had felt it.He swallowed hard, glancing at the clock. Matteo had brought him here, told him to stay put, then left for some business hours ago.He hadn’t returned.Noel’s stomach churned.Something was wrong.Then his phone buzzed.His fingers trembled as he grabbed it."Hello?"“Noel, baby…where are you? Have you heard?” Aria’s voice was rushed, frantic.“Heard what?” Noel sat up straighter, his pulse spiking.“Vincenzo has Julian. And rumor is…” Aria hesitated, then her voice dropped. “He beat him up. Badly. Before they took him away.”Noel froze.His breath hitched in his throat, fingers going numb around the phone.No. No, no, no.He shot to his feet. “Beat him up?” His
*Somewhere Unknown*Noel woke up to the sharp sting of his own cheek.Someone had slapped him.His head lolled to the side, his vision swimming as the burning sensation settled in. His limbs felt heavy…numb. His mouth was dry, and when he tried to move, he realized..He was tied to a chair.The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne. Shadows danced along the walls, blurred figures standing around him, watching.A voice..smooth, condescending..cut through the haze."Well, well. Look who’s finally awake."Noel’s heart lurched. He recognized that voice.Elene.A slow clap echoed through the room as Elene stepped into the light, her red lips curled into a wicked smirk. She was dressed immaculately as always, her heels clicking against the marble floor."You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?" she mused, crouching in front of him. "I keep thinking Vincenzo will finally throw you away, but no. He just keeps coming back."Noel’s breathing
Noel woke with a sharp gasp.The ceiling above him was unfamiliar…pristine white with intricate gold detailing. The air smelled of expensive cologne, leather, and something faintly citrusy. Silk sheets clung to his bare skin, cool and luxurious, nothing like the rough, bloodstained clothes he last remembered.Panic coiled in his stomach.His body ached all over, muscles protesting as he pushed himself up. A sharp sting shot through his ribs. His mind snapped to the events of the previous night.Elene. Silvio. The gunfire.Vincenzo.Had he really just declared war against the Riccis because of him?A cold shudder ran down Noel’s spine.Shit.Don Ramon was going to be pissed.Like, really pissed.And for the first time in his life, Noel felt genuine fear. He had spent years playing with fire, weaving through danger, but this… this was something else.He had run from the mouth of one beast straight into another.He let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his messy hair. Why the fu
"I think it's time you invited your parents over," Vincenzo said, voice low but steady.Noel blinked, sitting up from where he was curled on the plush couch in the sun-drenched De Luca bedroom. "My parents?""Isadora and Leontis," Vincenzo clarified, turning slightly from the window where he’d been standing. The afternoon light poured across his bare shoulders, the bandages still snug across his stomach. "I want to talk to them. Something important."Noel shifted, fingers curling into the hem of his soft shirt. He hadn't exactly made peace with them yet. Isadora had tried, true. Leontis too, in his own rigid way. And they had helped him when it mattered... but it still didn’t erase the years they were absent. The years he spent thinking Carlton was his only family."Okay," he said finally. "I'll call them."He did, voice even but clipped. The moment the call ended, he stayed silent, eyes staring out blankly until his phone buzzed again.A message.From Carlton.Noel, please. I’m dying
Carlton's office was a mess of scattered documents, shattered glass, and cigarette smoke. He stood at the window in a wrinkled shirt, eyes sunken, jaw twitching with the kind of anxiety he hadn’t felt since prison in his youth. His desk, once neat and polished, was buried under folders of fake financials, shredded check stubs, and a half-finished glass of whiskey. For three days straight, he hadn’t slept. Not since Olivia vanished with those files. Not since the syndicate that used to trust him began sniffing around like wolves sensing weakness.The door slammed open with a bang that echoed through the house.Carlton jumped, nearly dropping the whiskey glass.Matteo.Dressed in black from head to toe, his broad figure blocked the light from the hallway. The thick bandage peeking through his unbuttoned collar was stained with red. In his hand, a Glock.Carlton blinked. "Matteo…""Where the fuck is my money, Carlton?" Matteo growled, voice low, seething.Carlton raised his hands slowly.
The sunlight streaming through the tall windows warmed the edge of the bed, tracing golden fingers over the white sheets tangled around Vincenzo and Noel.Noel stirred first.He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the room…the rich wood, the gold-framed portraits, the subtle scent of leather and cologne. Then the weight beside him shifted. Vincenzo’s arm was still draped around him."You’re awake?" Noel whispered.Vincenzo didn’t open his eyes. “Have been for a while.”Noel’s throat tightened. “You scared me, y’know.”Vincenzo finally turned his head. “Scaring you wasn’t the plan.”Noel sighed, sitting up slowly. “You almost died.”“I didn’t.”“Because Lucas gave his blood. And I passed out trying to do the same.”Vincenzo’s hand found Noel’s waist under the sheet. “You always try to do the most dangerous thing to protect me.”“Because you always do the stupidest shit to protect me.”They sat in silence for a moment.Then Noel asked quietly, “Where do we go from here?”Vincenzo arched a
The television flickered in the corner of the smoke-filled bar, its grainy screen catching the attention of the man hunched over his whiskey. Hooded and half-shadowed, he looked up slowly, glass paused at his lips.BREAKING NEWS: OPERA SHOOTOUT TURNS BLOODYThe footage was shaky, captured by a panicked bystander, but it was enough. The camera caught a brief glimpse of a woman collapsing to the floor, her head jerking violently with the impact of a bullet.The caption read: *Elene Ricci presumed dead in the aftermath of the Opera House ambush.*The man’s grip tightened on the glass until it cracked. His eyes, a cold storm beneath his disguise, didn’t blink.Don Vittorio Ricci.Alive.He muttered, barely audible beneath the music and chatter, “You killed my daughter...”And then, like steel being tempered in flame:“I’ll burn the De Lucas to ash.”Meanwhile, in the De Luca estate...The return was a slow procession.Noel supported Vincenzo with gentle hands, guiding him up the marble st
The air was suffocatingly still.It had been thirty-seven hours.Thirty-seven hours since Noel had walked into that room and refused to leave Vincenzo’s side.Doctors had come and gone. Nurses whispered in corners. The rhythm of machines continued its haunting lullaby, every beep a breath stolen, every silence a cliffhanger.Noel hadn’t moved.Lucas had stabilized, resting in another room with Nico refusing to leave his side.Aria had gone to get clean clothes and food. She cried when she hugged Noel but left quietly, promising she’d return soon.But Noel...He stayed.He slept curled on the edge of the bed, his arms around Vincenzo’s waist, his cheek pressed lightly against the cold hospital gown.He hadn't said a word since last night.Not even to Isadora, who had come with a bowl of soup and a fresh change of clothes.She stood by the door now, Leontis beside her, both of them silent."He's still not speaking?" Leontis asked quietly.Isadora nodded. "He's holding it all in."Leonti
The hospital lights burned too bright, too sterile.Noel sat crumpled on the hard bench outside the operating room, his face buried in his trembling hands.His body shook violently, silent sobs wrecking through him.Aria sat beside him, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, tears streaming down her own face.Nico crouched in front of him, gripping his knees, whispering something..anything…but Noel couldn’t hear him.He couldn’t hear anything over the deafening roar in his ears.The image of Vincenzo collapsing in his arms played again and again behind his eyelids.Blood.So much blood.Hot, sticky, soaking his fingers.The doors to the OR burst open.The doctor…young, sweat beading his forehead…rushed out, removing his gloves."His condition is critical," he said, his voice clipped and urgent. "The bullet tore through an artery. We’ve managed to stabilize the bleeding, but he’s lost too much blood."Noel's head snapped up."I’ll donate," he said immediately, voice cracking. "Take m
The opera house ruins loomed like a carcass in the night.Fog curled over the broken steps, swallowing the splintered marble columns and shattered stained glass windows.The SUVs crawled to a silent stop a block away.Vincenzo sat in the backseat, staring out the tinted window.Beside him, Noel shifted, his legs bouncing with nervous energy he couldn't suppress.Lucas spoke first, keeping his voice low. "Visual confirmation. Ten of their men outside. Unmarked vans. Heavily armed."Vincenzo nodded once. "Positions?""East and west entrances covered. Main hall's open." Lucas paused. "But it's a kill box. They want to herd us through it."Vincenzo’s lips curved into something that wasn't a smile."They think we're that stupid."Lucas shrugged one shoulder. "They think you're desperate."Vincenzo leaned back, turning his head toward Noel."You ready?"Noel swallowed hard, nodding."I'm not leaving without them," he said."You won’t have to."Noel hesitated. "You’re not either."Vincenzo r
The room was dark, save for the low orange glow of the antique lamp on the bedside table.Vincenzo lay on his side, arms locked tight around Noel, feeling the slow, soft rise and fall of his chest against his own.For the first time in what felt like eternity, it was peaceful.Warm.Real.He buried his nose in Noel’s hair, breathing in the soft scent of him…clean, faintly like vanilla. His heart tightened. If he could, he would stay like this forever. No wars. No blood. No betrayals.Just them.His phone buzzed, sharp against the silence.Vincenzo cursed under his breath and reached over Noel’s sleeping form for it.The screen read: Elene Ricci.His jaw flexed.He carefully shifted out of bed, covering Noel with the heavy comforter, and padded across the ridiculously large bedroom Isadora had given them. It was nearly the size of his penthouse master suite. Gilded mirrors, marble floors, velvet drapes that made no sound even as they swayed with the wind.He answered on the third buzz.
The house was eerie silent.Olivia tiptoed across Carlton’s velvet-carpeted study, her heels long discarded in the hallway. Her pulse was a silent drumbeat in her throat.She had five minutes. Maybe less.She opened the drawer she’d memorized during one of his drunken rants. Bottom right, third file in.Her fingers brushed past forged deeds, bank routing numbers, old court records..and then..“Bingo,” she whispered.The black envelope was thick. Sealed in wax. Labeled: Transfer of Ownership – Laurent Holdings.Olivia smiled. “Oh, baby, you just bought me that Santorini yacht.”She stuffed the file into her large purse and glanced around.“Maybe I’ll even learn how to mix cocktails and dance barefoot. Far, far away from this old, greedy bastard.”She turned.And froze.Carlton was standing in the doorway, shirt half-unbuttoned, a vein pulsing in his temple.His voice was low and venomous. “What the fuck are you doing?”Olivia blinked. “Darling, I was just…”He stormed forward.She tuck