“No one touches what is mine and gets to live,” he replies firmly, sending a cold shiver down my spine. “Alessandro, I am not yours. I am not anyone’s property,” I argue. He laughs softly. “Okay,” he says casually, as if what I said doesn't matter. “I mean it; I will never be yours—not your property, not your plaything, and certainly not your mistress,” I've already made it clear that I won't be his mistress; I don’t know why he can’t seem to accept that. His jaw tightens, then he scoffs. “He threatened you, he touched you,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “It really didn’t matter if the device was his or not; he knew what was coming for him.” In search of her missing father, Renée, a 24 year old boudoir photographer, moves to a new country and makes a deal with the FBI. She helps them bring down the most feared Mafia Don in the country, and they help her find her father. All she has to do is seduce him and get him to lower his guard—easy. Alessandro has been married for three years to the perfect wife, the princess of the East Mafia dome. That kind of marriage makes Alessandro the leader of both the South and the East of the Mafia dome and untouchable, Ruthless. Then one night at a masquerade ball, he meets her, the seductive stranger with a different accent. She looks like the typical type of woman he would make his mistress. But is that enough? Will his world accept a woman like her? It has been a rule for as long as he can remember that certain races can't mix, at least not from where he stands. Plus, he is a married man. Everything about her is forbidden.
View MoreI am standing outside the house, gripping the car keys tightly in my hand. This whole place is filled with memories. My entire drive here was flooded with flashbacks—beautiful and ugly alike.I don’t want to be here.But I have to be.It’s been years since I last stepped foot inside this house—our house. The place where Luca and I built a life together. The place where I would have become his wife. The place where we would have started a family. The place where I became a widow.I exhale slowly, watching my breath in the evening chill. My mother-in-law had insisted she would be here waiting for me, and even though she said it was fine if I didn’t come, I knew she wanted me to.But that isn’t the only reason I’m here.I need clothes. Most of my things are still inside, untouched, locked away in closets and drawers that haven’t been opened in years. I know my mother-in-law and Luca’s sister
I quickly get up and step as far away from Alessandro as Miles drags the man toward us, his grip firm despite the man’s protests. The man stumbles, muttering curses under his breath, but he doesn’t struggle. He knows he’s caught.Alessandro stands from the bench, brushing dust off his pants, his expression a mix of amusement and irritation.“What the hell happened to you?” Jamie asks, eyeing his disheveled appearance.“Him,” Alessandro replies, nodding at the guy. He then arches a brow at Miles. “That was fast.”Miles smirks, keeping his grip tight. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t exactly trying hard to hide. Saw him slipping out the back—figured we should return him.” He shoves the guy forward, making him stagger.Jamie folds her arms, cocking her head. “You took our money, ran, and got caught five minutes later? Not very smart, are you?”The man only glares at
When Alessandro said the place we were going to would be unsafe, I didn’t exactly picture a ghetto. It reeks of smoke and desperation, and we couldn’t find anywhere safe to park, so Alessandro had to leave the car somewhere a little safer. We left most of our belongings there because, sure, Alessandro obviously carries a gun and can offer some level of protection, but that isn’t a guarantee. I can see the way people are eyeing us, and I bet most of their stares are directed at him. In a world like this, he’s probably like a god to them.Jamie leads the way confidently, Miles close behind her. Alessandro and I follow, my stomach twisting in knots. I try to jump over a ditch filled with filthy water I’d rather not think about, but I miss a step. Alessandro is quick to steady me. His hand on mine feels electric, and I quickly pull away, swallowing hard.“You shouldn’t have worn those fancy shoes,” he says, glancing at my heeled ankle boots.“I didn’t have time to get a new pair,” I reply
Coming here for drinks with Jamie was a mistake, probably because this is the first time in five years that Alessandro and I are actually in a room together. For what has it been now? Thirty? Forty-five minutes?It is awkward, to say the least.Jamie seems to be having a good time, grinning like a cat, clearly enjoying herself as she leans against the bar counter. She’s been at this for however long we’ve been here, teasing everyone—mostly Alessandro—about his brooding demeanor. I get that she’s trying to make this whole thing less awkward, but it’s kind of hard.See, Jamie and Alessandro had a past. Sure, I get it, it was purely contractual with no feelings involved, but that should make, if not me, her boyfriend uncomfortable. Now, Alessandro’s past with me is a well-known fact. And we came here to talk about my dead husband, who was Alessandro’s best friend, so yeah—it can only get more awkward.“Honestly, Renée,” Jamie says, swirling her drink, totally ignoring my warning look. “H
I should have gotten in the car and driven away, but I didn’t. There’s a part of me that feels if I leave without getting the answers I came for from Jamie, it would feel like Alessandro has won. This isn’t about him—it’s about Luca. And if I have to sit in this car and cry my heart out while I wait for Jamie to show up, then so be it.I didn’t bother looking back to see where Alessandro went, but when I got in the car, I couldn’t see him where I had left him. I take a deep breath, trying to push away the storm of emotions he’s stirred up. My hands are still shaking as I fumble inside my bag for my handkerchief. My mind is a jumbled mess of anger, grief, and exhaustion. I don’t know why he thought saying all that to me was okay.I hear a tap on my window and sniffle as I quickly wipe my tears with the back of my hand, looking up.It’s him.I’m tempted to roll my eyes. I don’t have the energy to deal with him again.“What do you want, Alessandro?” I ask in a flat voice.He taps the win
My mind is racing, spiraling out of control, and I can’t stop it. I can’t think. I can’t move.I can’t breathe.The gun is pointed straight at me, and my chest tightens painfully. I can’t see clearly; my vision is blurry, and I can feel the panic attack slowly taking over. My breathing speeds up, turning into gasps for air. It’s all too much. My legs feel weak beneath me, and I feel like they’re going to give out at any second.A gun. A goddamn gun.I’m gasping for air, each breath shallow and insufficient, until the sobs start—gut-wrenching, uncontrollable. My entire body is shaking as memories flood me, drowning me. I’m not here anymore. I’m back there, on that day, hearing the shot.The sound of it echoes in my mind, loud and clear, as if it just happened. I see Luca falling, his blood staining the ground. My heart feels like it’s being ripped apart all over again.I’m clawing at my chest now, desperate for air, desperate for something to ground me, but nothing works. Nothing. And
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