LOGIN"This was a bad idea. I'll just have something shit expensive ordered online or something," I said, standing next to Bianca in front of Tiffany's with my pockets in my hands.
"We don't have time for this. Lunch is only one hour. Get in here," Bianca said, demanding as ever as she ushered me into the jewellery store. "Isn't this weird for you? Two months ago, I was screwing your best friend. Now we're engagement ring shopping for your sister-in-law. You must have some feelings about this," I said, unusually concerned about a woman that wasn't Olivia and her opinion. "Don't remind me. Macy would disown me if she knew what I was doing right now. Why am I here instead of my husband, Harmon?" she deadpanned, cutting straight to the chase. "Every time I bring up the engagement Will loses his shit. He's been short fused since I told him I was proposing to Olivia. I was shocked he made it through dinnerShe lashed out, her voice cracking with betrayal. "You don't actually believe that, do you? Killing Lance means you owe me. I was your fucking sister too once. You abandoned me. I never became your wife, did I? Stayed Marino's whore instead. Now you're sending me straight to my death." Suspicions nagged at me for months. Had JR orchestrated Lance's rooftop confrontation? Manipulated his jealousy of me becoming Marino's erede and Sottocapo to her advantage? I couldn't quite believe it, that Lance planned my murder, but in this world, doubt meant death. "You won't die," I assured her. "Marino's obsessed with getting you back. Word is his health is failing fast. For all I know, you're heading straight to becoming Sottocapo. Mafia queen. Eventually, you'll rule it all." "You're delusional," she spat. "Just soothing your guilty conscience—" The door burst open then, splintering the tense air. Tino stood there with two burly men flanking him, their faces impassive masks of duty. "I d
Eight months later, the phone buzzed insistently against my ear. I held my breath while I waited for Will to pick up the phone. These once a week check-ins got me through the day. Grief still sat heavily on my chest, knowing that I killed my brother. Here I was, about to do worse to JR. This was the price of my freedom. Of returning to the States to live with Will and Olivia permanently. Buried under as much guilt as grief, would I do that night differently if I could? Of course, but there were no take backs. Even if I wanted to change my mind now, I couldn't. I had to push through. My found family was waiting on me. I had to believe that. Fuck, I needed to walk away from Marino. Bury my past like a bad dream. For me. For Will. For Olivia. Going back to being owned by a mad man and his world of pain might just make me kill myself. Olivia's voice sliced through the static like a lifeline. "Where are you? You said you'd be here by now," her angelic voice said in an accusatory tone."
"What about Marino and everything he's done for you? He raised you, trained you, gave you purpose. You're his most trusted confidant. What about your fucking loyal to him?"My pulse picked up speed for the first time since leaving my room. The air cracked with the sounds of punches being thrown. Sharp grunts, the dull thuds of flesh on flesh. I froze on the stairs, clutching my side as pain radiated outward, my breath coming in shallow gasps.No matter what, Lance and Chance were brothers. Chance valued that above all else. Then again, I thought that about Lance a few weeks ago. That was why I never moved forward with the plan to kill him. No part of me believed Goremaster would hurt Ghostblade or vice versa. Now, as tension rose and they proved me wrong, my stomach dropped. The stench of impending doom was in the air. The writing was on the wall. Something horrible was about to happen on that rooftop. Had to get up there. Stop them. We could flee. All of us. Together. We could all l
"Where is Lance?” Marino asked, his voice ripped me out of sleep like a blade. Rage reverberated through his chilly voice. Real rage. Gone was the calm mafia king to whom not much mattered. This was raw. Desperate. Like his very existence depended on what I said next. Needless to say, adrenaline flooded my blood when he bore into me with murder in his eyes. “What the fuck did you tell him, you stupid whore?” he thundered, snapping his fingers.I blinked, my brain scrambling to catch up. Silk sheets. A warm body beside me. The smell of sex still clinging to the room. Except when I looked next to me, I came up empty. No Lance. "I don't know," I answered honestly, then dared to reach out to my padre with concern. *What's wrong?"“Sorry, Robbie. Just doing my bit, said Valentino, emerging from the shadows and shoving a gun into my face. “Tell Il Padrino where Goremaster is." A chill ran down my spine, but I didn’t curl up into a ball. Didn’t flinch. I reached calmly for the sheets ins
The screaming was constant. Blood flowed in rivers. None of it fazed the psychopath. He even learned how to bandage and suture wounds to keep them alive longer. He said it was death by a thousand cuts, but I swear it was always more. Countless mutilated corpses. Teeth and organs littering the ground. Ghostblade had people looking down in reverence when he entered a room. I was no exception. "You are happy, right? You and Marino… your fucked up set up. JR—" he said, and something inside me broke. An innocence I thought I gave up long ago came rushing to the surface. My pride would not let me say no. Not okay. I don't know how to escape. I love padre, but I hate him too. Fucking help me. Kill him. Make him let me go. I'm completely fucked up in the head. "All good, Sottocapo," I said, instead of he's going to kill the man I love. Please save me, like you said you would. Before you aband
***Trigger warning for off page rape and mentions of goreSottocapo: Underboss***The worst part? Once Marino started fucking me that night, I found my words to him were not entirely a lie. I came for him. Not seized. Real orgasms. He had broken me. Made me enjoy getting fucked by my own father. What else was there to do if I could not make it stop? Resisting was futile, so I gave in. After that night, it went back to just being us. I found comfort in no longer being shared. In once more being treasured and special to him. Padre protected me, decreeing me his. No man dared touch me after that. The hatred I felt towards him took a backseat to him saving me. Elevating me in status. He was my god again. I was so grateful to not be aching and bruised every night from having my holes overused, that I would have done anything to appease him. Satisfied with my attachment to him, Ill Padrino found other ways to make use of me. He sent me to the army to learn to kill. I took to murder quic







