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Take the man
Date de publication:
2026-01-21 21:43:42
Dernier chapitre
Taken by my stepfathers The Mastermind’s Exit
Eden’s POVThe double doors of the master bathroom clicked open, and I walked back into the sprawling, white-marble living room. Marco was standing by the glass windows, with a thick legal folder open in his hands, while Sandro and Enzo lounged on the velvet sofa, their expressions smug and heavy with the afterglow of their performance."Ah, the placeholder returns," Marco sneered, not looking up from the pages. "The final routing numbers just cleared. Sit down, Aiden. It’s time to sign over your short-lived kingdom.""Of course," I said, my voice smooth, entirely devoid of the fear they expected.I didn't sit in the low leather chair across from them. Instead, I walked directly to the massive mahogany desk where the gold fountain pen sat waiting. I leaned my hip against the edge of the desk, crossing one elegant leg over the other, completely projecting the unbothered, dominant energy I’d perfected under Daddy’s roof.Mia emerged from the hallway right on cue, her eyes downcast, carr
Taken by my stepfathers The Butcher of Berlin's Wrath
Silas’s POVThe rain over Queens was heavy, black, and smelled like burning rubber.I didn't use a gun. A gun is too clean. It leaves too much distance between the hunter and the prey. When someone takes what belongs to the Schmidt family—when someone puts their filthy hands on my little princess—I want to feel their bones break. I want to feel the exact moment the light leaves their eyes.They call me the Butcher of Berlin. It’s a title I earned in the underground meat-packing districts of Germany, clearing out entire syndicates with nothing but a rusted cleaver and an iron will. New York thought they had seen monsters before we arrived. They had no fucking idea.Right now, a private underground gambling den in Astoria was painted entirely in crimson.Four Moretti soldiers were sprawled across the poker tables, their throats crushed, their bodies broken into unnatural shapes. I stood in the center of the room, my tailored black suit jacket discarded, my white shirt soaked through wit
Taken by my stepfathers Turning the Help
Eden’s POVThe heavy plastic zip-ties were snicked off my wrists with a pair of silver cigar cutters. Marco didn't do it himself; he signaled one of his guards to do it after the legal team sent over the first draft of the restructuring paperwork."You can move around," Marco said, leaning against the marble wet bar, swirling a fresh glass of bourbon. "The elevators require a biometric scan, the stairwell is dead-bolted from the outside, and there are six men with sub-automatics in the foyer. You aren't going anywhere, Aiden. Relax. Enjoy the view."I didn't answer him. I rubbed my bruised wrists, the skin raw and red, but the silver Moretti ring remained firmly on my finger. I stood up from the leather armchair, my ruined charcoal blazer hanging open, and began to pace the penthouse.It was a beautiful cage. The glass windows showed a sprawling view of the city, but without a phone or a landmarks guide, I had no idea if I was in Long Island City, Brooklyn, or the Upper East Side. The
Taken by my stepfathers The Moretti Fire
Eden’s POVThe auto-body shop had just been a staging area. Before the canvas hood was shoved back over my head, I was dragged out of the footwell and thrown into a different car. When the fabric was finally ripped off my face a second time, I wasn't in a rusty garage.I was sitting in a plush leather armchair in a penthouse that rivaled the Schmidts' mansion. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the glittering expanse of the East River. The room was a monument to old-school Italian luxury—white marble floors, heavy velvet drapes, and a massive, low-profile silk bed dominating the center of the room.Standing in front of me were the three remaining Moretti brothers, the cousins of the Don I had buried in the Bronx.They looked like a darker, crueler mirror image of the men I left behind. Marco, the oldest, was dressed in a pristine charcoal suit, his dark hair slicked back. Next to him stood Sandro, lean and restless, his fingers nervously playing with a heavy gold lighter. And then ther
Taken by my stepfathers The Price of the Crown
Eden’s POVThe high of the boardroom was still humming in my veins as the elevator descended to the underground parking garage. Daniel and Silas had stayed upstairs to finalize the asset freezing with the legal team, leaving me with four of the Schmidt organization’s top-tier security guards.I looked down at the silver Moretti ring on my finger. It felt like a shield, but as the elevator doors slid open into the dim, concrete expanse of the garage, the air shifted. It was too quiet. The usual hum of the building's ventilation felt muffled and heavy."Stay tight," the lead guard, a scarred veteran named Marcus, muttered, his hand instantly dropping to his holsters.We walked toward the armored Maybach waiting in the center lane. My heels echoed against the concrete—a sharp, confident sound that suddenly felt like a beacon.We were halfway to the car when the shadows moved.Three blacked-out SUVs tore around the concrete pillars, tires screeching as they boxed us in. The doors flew ope
Taken by my stepfathers The Iron Throne of Midtown
Daniel’s POVThe boardroom on the forty-fifth floor of the Midtown high-rise smelled of old parchment, expensive leather, and pure, suffocating panic.A heavy mahogany table stretched across the center of the room, flanked by floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out over the Manhattan skyline. Around it sat twelve men—the remaining executives, legal sharks, and old-school capos of the Moretti organization.They were wearing five-thousand-dollar suits, but under the fluorescent lights, they looked like sheep waiting for the blade. They knew the rumors from the Bronx. They knew Moretti was dead. What they didn't know was who was stepping into the vacuum.The heavy oak doors clicked open.I walked in first, stepping aside to hold the door. Silas followed, his massive frame completely blocking the exit, his arms crossed over a tailored black suit that barely contained his shoulders. He didn't look at the board; he looked at the room, establishing the perimeter like a wolf guarding a
Taken by my stepfathers The Butcher of Berlin
Eden’s POVThe warehouse smelled of wet concrete and ozone, a damp, heavy cold that seeped into my bones through the tears in my dress. I was zip-tied to a rusted pipeshaft in a corner of the basement, my jaw aching from where the man with the scarred throat had backhanded me 18 hours ago.His name
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-02Taken by my stepfathers The Shepherd and the Wolf
Daniel’s POVThe file on Deacon Arthur Vance made my fucking skin crawl. It wasn't just the abuse; it was the meticulous, holy-rolling theater he used to cloak it. This prick didn't just break children; he did it in the name of a god he didn't believe in, using a pulpit as a hunting blind.He was t
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-03-29Taken by my stepfathers The biggest monster of them all
Daniel’s POVThe basement of the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was a far cry from the refined, leather-scented dungeon of my estate. This place was raw. It smelled of damp concrete, rusted iron, and the pervasive, cloying scent of fear. I had chosen it for its lack of history, a blank
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-03-29Taken by my stepfathers You were a placeholder
Luca’s POVThe penthouse of the Grand Regency felt like a gilded cage. It was the kind of place my father sent people when he wanted them out of his sight but still under his thumb. As I stood in the foyer, the scent of expensive lilies and stale gin hit me, a fragrance that had become Lilian’s sig
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-03-28
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