The aroma of freshly brewed coffee still lingered on Delilahās clothes as she entered her small apartment.
As soon as she stepped inside, the scent of something delicious hit her nose. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of spices and herbs that made her stomach growl with hunger. After a long day at the cafĆ©, it was exactly what she needed. With a tired sigh, she dropped her bag lazily by the couch, her shoulders slumping in relief. She moved toward the kitchen, following the irresistible smell, already guessing who the culprit was. She rounded the corner into the kitchen, and found her aunt, Mary Flynn. Mary stood over the stove, stirring a pot of what smelled like her famous chicken stew. Her auntās graying hair, always tied back in a neat bun, gleamed under the kitchen lights. Despite her age, Aunt Mary had the energy of someone half her years and the warmest smile that could melt any stress away. Mary glanced up and smiled warmly when she saw Delilah. "I knew you wouldnāt be cooking tonight, lazy girl," she teased, reaching up to peck Delilah on the cheek. Delilah chuckled, leaning into the kiss. "You know me too well, Aunt Mary. I was going to cook⦠eventually." Her aunt laughed heartily. "If I left it to you, youād starve yourself before getting a meal ready. Someone has to keep you fed!" Delilah grinned, unable to argue. She quickly washed her hands and moved to help. "Okay, okay, I admit defeat. Let me at least help finish this up." Together, they worked in comfortable silence, the only sounds in the kitchen being the bubbling stew and the clatter of dishes as Delilah set the table. After a few more minutes, they were done, and Delilah carried her plate to the dining room, her stomach rumbling in anticipation. They both sat down, the dining room filled with the smell of the delicious food. Delilah took a bite, humming in satisfaction as the flavors danced on her tongue. Aunt Maryās cooking never disappointed. As they ate, Aunt Mary glanced at Delilah, a thoughtful look on her face. There was a pause before she spoke. "Delilah, thereās something I need to tell you," she began, her tone gentle but serious. Delilah, mid-bite, glanced up curiously. "Go on," she said, chewing on a piece of chicken, too lost in the delicious meal to sense the gravity of her auntās words. Mary smiled softly, then took a deep breath. "Iāve found a suitor for you. A good match." The words landed like a bombshell. Delilah froze, her spoon suspended in mid-air, eyes wide with shock. For a moment, it felt like the room had gone completely silent, as if the air itself had stilled in disbelief. "A⦠suitor?" Delilah repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind racing. She hadnāt expected this. She glanced at Aunt Mary, who was watching her closely, waiting for a reaction. The very word, Suitor made Delilahās stomach twist. "He's a nice guy," Mary said, her voice warm and encouraging. "And very handsome." Delilah blinked and let out a small sigh, trying to collect her thoughts. "Aunt Mary," she began slowly, "I donāt thinkā" Mary interrupted, her expression shifting from playful to concerned. "Delilah, Iāve noticed how you've been avoiding men. I understand after... everything." Her voice trailed off, eyes clouded with memories. Delilah looked away. She knew her aunt was thinking of her parents' death and the awful events that followedāthe men sheād dated who had proven to be untrustworthy, leaving scars deeper than she liked to admit. But not all men are like that, Mary believed. Not every man is like what youāve faced, she wanted to say, but the words hung unspoken between them. "Iāve been thinking about your future a lot, you know," Mary continued, her tone softening as she reached across the table to hold Delilahās hand. "With your parents gone, itās fallen on me to make sure youāre looked after. I may not be around much longer myself." Delilahās head snapped up. "Oh goodness, Aunt! Donāt talk like that. Youāre not going to die of old age anytime soon." She squeezed her auntās hand affectionately. "Youāre still young and full of life." Mary chuckled, but the seriousness in her eyes didnāt waver. With a playful smack to Delilahās hand, she added, "If Iām so young, then hurry up and get married while Iām alive, rather than waiting until Iām gone." Delilah sighed, shaking her head but smiling faintly. She knew how much Mary cared, but this wasnāt what she wantedānot now, not like this. "Youāre my only family, Delilah," Mary continued softly. "I just want to know youāre happy and with someone whoāll take care of you. The suitor I found for you... well, his family has already approved. They think highly of you." Delilah pulled her hand away gently, returning her focus to her food. She picked up her spoon again, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere, but her aunt wasnāt letting this go. "Arenāt you at least interested in knowing about him?" Mary asked, her voice laced with curiosity. Delilah didnāt even look up. "No." Maryās lips pressed into a thin line as she reached for her phone, pulling up something on the screen. "Well, maybe seeing him will change your mind." She turned the phone toward Delilah, showing a photo of the man she was talking about. Delilahās instinct was to look away, to avoid whatever trap her aunt had set, but as her eyes caught a glimpse of the man in the photo, her heart did a strange flip. He was handsomeāno, more than handsome. He was striking, the kind of man who could stop traffic with just one glance. His black hair was short but styled in that perfect, effortless way that suggested both discipline and rebellion. His deep, dark grey eyes, almost charcoal, stared back with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. There was something about his sharp, firm features, the coldness of his expression, and the athletic build that hinted at power and control. Delilah gulped, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. She quickly set down her spoon again, her appetite vanishing under the weight of the image before her. "He was handsome four years ago," Mary said with a knowing smile, "but heās even more handsome now." Delilah finished the last bite of her food hastily, her mind spinning. She picked up her plate, pushing back her chair as she stood. "Iāll think about it," she muttered, heading for the kitchen. Behind her, Maryās playful voice followed. "Is that a yes?" Delilah paused, half-turning with a shrug. "Maybe a yes." She didnāt need to see her auntās face to know that her response had made her beam. Mary, ever the optimist, would take any sliver of hope and run with it. "Thank the stars!" Mary exclaimed, her voice light with happiness. Delilah escaped into the kitchen, setting her plate in the sink. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter as she took a deep breath, trying to regain control of her racing thoughts. The image of the man was etched in her mind, those deep grey eyes haunting her. She could feel her pulse thudding in her chest, the unwelcome flutter of attraction tightening her stomach. But no. This wasnāt happening. She wasnāt going to let herself fall into another situation where emotions clouded her judgment. She had no reason to trust anyone, let alone someone like himāhandsome or not. She had dealt with enough to know better than to let herself get tangled in a mess of love, or worse, marriage. She had managed to avoid every suitor her aunt had thrown her way before, and she would do the same this time. Delilah wasnāt ready to give her heart to anyone, especially not someone who looked like they could break it without a second thought. With a firm nod to herself, she washed her plate and resolved not to be swayed, no matter how cold and calculatingāand devastatingly handsomeāhe appeared to be.The private dining hall of the restaurant was a world apartāsleek, expensive, and eerily silent despite the gathering of powerhouses seated inside. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light on the polished mahogany table stretching across the room. The men and women seated were the most feared, most respected members of the undergroundāCapos, Consiglieri, and a few others whose names alone could make hearts stop. At the head of the table, a sharply dressed man in his sixties stoodāthe chairperson for the evening. His voice was steady, yet commanding. "As we all know," he began, "the organization is entering a new era. Weāve survived brutal wars, betrayals, and shifts in power. But survival isnāt enough. We must grow. And for that⦠we need a leader. A new Don." Murmurs followed, quickly fading into silence as he continued. "There are a few names on the list. Men capable of leading us forward. Men who have proven their loyalty. Men who have spilled blood, cleaned the dirt off our emp
Delilah stepped out of her black car with ease and elegance, dressed in tailored black trousers and a cream fitted blouse that complimented the curve of her waist. Her heels clicked against the cobblestone driveway of Elder Donatoās mansion. A warm afternoon sun lit the air, but the mood was anything but sunny.Behind her, one of her bodyguards followed closely, holding a modest cake box with white frosting designs and a subtle satin ribbon. To the unsuspecting eye, it looked like a simple gesture. But this was Delilahānothing she did was simple.Inside the mansion, she walked through the entrance like she owned the place, her steps unhurried, her smile steady. She entered the dining room where Elder Donato sat at the head of a long mahogany table, slicing a piece of veal with slow accuracy. His white hair was neatly combed, and his gold ring caught the light with every motion.Delilahās smile widened when she approached. "It's so good to see you again, Nonno," she said with sweet af
Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months. Delilah had become something of a legend in the shadows. The Krono wasnāt just a tool nowāit was a throne, and she ruled from it, faceless but feared. She slipped into the lives of powerful men and women with blackmail so accurate they never saw her coming. Whispers of her haunted the boardrooms and political suites. They didnāt know her name, but they felt her presence. And it gave her everythingāmoney, power, control.From the spoils of her secrecy, she built something legitimate: a real organization to help trafficked women. Ginoās paycheck doubled. Marco was making clean, sharp money in real estate. Even Aunt Mary had a new apartment uptown, one with sunlight and a working elevator. Ruby and Helen had cried when they received a cake box stuffed with thick bundles of hundred-dollar bills, hidden under the frosting.But even with all the glamor and goodness, Marco stayed watchful. The Krono was too dangerous. Too much attention and the
Delilah was back at the mansion.Mrs. Hayden had already been given instructionsāto assist Delilah at all times, no questions asked. And the older woman did just that, preparing what was necessary and retreating when needed. Delilah had asked to be left alone in the library, and Mrs. Hayden, like a loyal servant, obeyed.The mansion was silent. The late afternoon had melted into evening. Golden streaks of sunlight slanted across the dark shelves of the library.Marco was still at the office.Delilah sat in one of the chairs, her fingers moving with smooth accuracy. She took the new laptopāthe one she had ordered Gino to getāand set it on the table before her. After a brief pause, she pulled out the USB.Letās see what secrets the Krono holds, she thought.Click.She inserted the drive, and a folder appeared. No password protection. No decoy files. Just a single, cryptic label.She opened it.Rows of names greeted her. Important men. Influential women. Politicians. Judges. All neatly f
Marco covered the pot with its lid and muttered under his breath, disappointment etched in his voice, "Sure, all it took was to be distracted."A crooked smirk tugged at his lips a second later. "Well, at least I got a compliment."The compliment had lingered in his mind far longer than the ruined soup. She had said he looked handsome. Devilishly handsome. And the way her gaze had lingered on him? Heād felt it ā not just seen it. Felt it sliding over his skin like a warm current, deliberate, and far from innocent.Before he could get lost in the thought again, Delilahās voice carried from the living room. "The delivery is here."He stepped out of the kitchen. The aroma of the delivered chicken soup replaced the burnt smell from earlier. It wasnāt the meal he planned to make, but it would do. They dined quietly, the silence between them no longer awkward but easy, almost intimate. When they finished, they retreated into the bedroom.Delilah changed into a loose-fitting nightgown, soft
Marco had finally released Delilah from his arms, the warmth of her still lingering in his hold. She had called a cab through an app, adamantly refusing to trouble Gino for a ride."Iāll just grab a few things from the apartment and come back to the mansion," sheād said.Marco didnāt argue. He knew better than to push her when sheād made up her mind. Still, that didnāt stop him from escorting her to the hotel entrance.The cab was already waiting.Marco opened the passenger door for her and Delilah slid in. Maybe it was the brush of her body against his arm, or the way her fingers briefly brushed his as she settled inābut Marcoās gut clenched.He watched as the cab drove off, disappearing into the traffic. A second later, his phone rang.---Delilah had received a message from Mary earlier, saying she would be at the hospital for treatment and wouldn't be at the apartment. Now, Delilah found the key where Mary had said it would beāin the flower vase just by the apartment door. She un