Tear Me Apart (An M/M Dark Romance)

I, Alejandro Cortes, did not believe in fear.Fear was a currency, a weapon, a language I spoke fluently, but never something I felt. Fear belonged to weaker men. Fear was for those who hesitated. Those who doubted. Those who had something fragile enough to break.And fragility… it was something I buried years ago. Or so I believed. Until Lana.Somehow, this daughter of mine terrified me. Not because she was dangerous, not because she carried even a hint of the cunning or ruthlessness that ran through the blood of the Cortes family, but because she was fragile. So fragile, that even a single misstep in this chaotic world I had built. This empire of shadows, blood, and calculated cruelty could shatter her entirely. One careless moment, one unnoticed detail, and the world would crush her.Lana Cortes, my only daughter, was the only thing in this brutal, blood-soaked empire that emitted gentleness. She did not belong to my world of violence, to the endless currents of threat and control

I did not accept meetings I did not initiate. Power did not bend. It summoned. And yet here I was, seated, and waiting. The irony was not lost on me.The private lounge overlooked the Amalfi coastline, where the sea stretched endlessly beneath a sky bleeding into dusk. The horizon burned in shades of amber and fading gold, waves crashing against jagged stone with rhythmic violence. Beautiful and relentless. Unlike men. Unlike Nikolai Vassiliou.A neutral territory had been chosen with clinical precision. There are no visible weapons. No guards standing stiffly in corners. No overt reminders of the blood-soaked worlds we both ruled. A performance of civility. A lie wrapped in luxury. Because men like us did not require visible violence to understand its presence. It lived in silence. In the unbearable weight of stillness.I remained seated, fingers resting lightly against the armrest of the leather chair, gaze fixed on the horizon. Calm. But beneath that calm, something coiled. Just a

The streets were quiet when we arrived. Too quiet. My car rolled through the dimly lit alleyways, tires whispering over wet asphalt, the city’s heartbeat oblivious to the storm I carried within me. Ibram and Leandro flanked me, silent, lethal、brothers forged in blood, bred to obey without question, ready to execute the judgment I had already decreed in my mind.We reached the house too late. The door hung crooked, splintered wood where it had been kicked in. The stench hit me first: metallic, coppery, sharp. A warning I should have expected, yet nothing could prepare me for the sight that followed.Inside, chaos reigned in frozen horror. Furniture overturned, shattered glass littering the floor like crystalline blood. Walls bore the scars of violence, a blunt force, scratches, and streaks of crimson. And then, the bodies. The men who had dared touch my family lay twisted, grotesque, their final expressions carved in terror and disbelief. I did not pause to catalog them. They were irre

Night cloaked the Aegean coast in silver and shadow as our helicopter descended without lights, blades cutting silently through salted air. Below us, the cliffs of his Greek estate rose from the sea like a fortress carved by arrogance itself. Like glass, steel, and stone perched above crashing waves. Beautiful and isolated. Perfect for a man who believed himself untouchable.I watched the compound through night-vision lenses, every movement mapped across my mind with surgical clarity. Guards rotated in predictable intervals. Thermal signatures pulsed along the perimeter. Surveillance grids overlapped efficiently. It was impressive, but not flawless. Nothing built by men ever was.“He increased security,” Leandro murmured through the comms.“Not enough,” I replied. My voice sounded unfamiliar even to me. Totally calm, empty and precise. Grief had burned away hesitation, leaving only purpose behind. Beside me, Ibram checked his weapon with quiet efficiency. Neither brother spoke of Lana

I woke up to the sound of footsteps heading my way. I still felt the lingering pain from yesterday. When I completely opened my eyes, I saw a man heading towards me with a tray that had what looked like stale bread and beans on the side and a glass of water on his hands. He put the tray on the floor and looked at me in a very disgusted way. This man looks a lot like Alejandro but he’s more on the leaner side. Alejandro is big and buff and I can tell that beneath his suit hides a powerful mass of body. The person who looks like Alejandro must be his youngest brother Antonio Cortes. I’ve heard of him. He’s a freak of nature, well not more than me but I kind of hate this waste of space. He’s slimy and has the vibe of a snake. I don’t know why Alejandro keeps him. I heard him said about the la familia code that they don’t betray each other but this one, this fucker gets on every last one of my nerves and I want to fucking spill his guts on the floor and stab him with my swiss knife which