◇ KEL ◇
Sx Ward Room 309
When Miles left the hospital with his other bodyguards, I heard they used the Falcos' private plane to meet up with Stefano. I had no choice but to wait for them to return. Miles promised me, so I would wait and stay optimistic.
With no alternative option but to hide in this private hospital, I counted down the hours.
◇ KEL ◇ Oh dear...his eyes... Try as I might, staring into his gorgeous, attentive eyes just sucked the finesse and willpower out of me. It was not a fleeting physical attraction. Well, first time I met him, I was quite drawn to his perfection of a face, but after we had gotten to know each other better, he'd been nothing but a real friend to me. Just recently I realized I was attracted to his genuine personality, honesty and remarkable kindness more than anything else. His eyes gave it away. Concern, worry...and a bit of...sadness. He made no effort to hide how he felt. It had been an hour or so. Yep—I made him wait that long. I wanted to see how serious he was. To be frank, I was mostly dragging my heels because I just didn't know what to say to him. Alessio and the guards outside the private room did their job and kept Enzo from barging in. But when my patience eventually r
× WARNING! × × CONTENT BELOW NOT INTENDED FOR YOUNG READERS × × READ AT YOUR OWN RISK× ◇ KEL◇ Loud swearing. The senseless shouting. Pain-filled grunts, the sound of fists hitting flesh and bone. He was beating the guy to death. This could not be happening. The pristine, all-white floor should just open up and swallow me whole. Shield me from all this chaos. Hide me from the painful reality that, at the moment, nothing was worse than my total mess of a life. These people just couldn't pick a proper time or place for— Co
◇ KEL◇"Just waiting for the doctors' clearance. Then I'm taking you home."Home.The word just perked up my senses. I stirred under the covers. What he said and the certainty in his tone was messing up my resolve to seem distant and unconcerned.
◇ KEL ◇ When Alessio said Miles' parents were outside, I expected both Mr. and Mrs. Falco to walk into the private room. Miles made a face and opened the door. Only his mother stood in the hallway, carrying a small basket of fruits. Her bodyguards were probably nearby. Dressed in all white, Mrs. Falco approached the hospital bed before I could greet the older woman. Eleana's mild perfume smelled like vanilla and fresh flowers. Her striking features and wavy dark brown hair reminded me from whom Miles inherited his looks. She hugged me lightly, carefully, all the while Miles stood by the door with Alessio. Both were talking in Italian. "I'm so sorry." Eleana Falco pulled a face after glancing over my current condition, seeming truly worried. "How are you feeling?" Her somewhat comforting voice cracked while tears filled her beautiful deep-set eyes, her thick lashes now a bit damp. He
••••••••••••ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHT © 2020 by M.Z. Mauve• DISCLAIMER •Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented.This story contains mature themes, profanity, violence, and sexual content not intended for young readers. All photos included in this book belong to the copyright owners. Full credits to the owners.Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this story or plagiarism of any kind is prohibited by the law. ••••••••••••Author's Notes:Hi, dear readers!❤ Thank you for sticking with us and for reading this draft of my crime/mafia/romance story."THE ALPHA'S DHAMPIRICA" is the title of the sequel, now published on this same profile. It was written as a vampire/mafia/romance novel again, like the original version of this book. If my schedule permits, I would rewrite a non-paranormal version of this first installment soon. I really hope you'll love the second book as well!Moreover, some chapters in the sequel also contain non-English dialogu
Copyright © 2020 by M.Z. MauveAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.- Author's Notes -Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented. This story contains mature themes, profanity, violence, and sexual content not intended for young readers. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this story or plagiarism of any kind is prohibited by the law. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE PHOTOS INCLUDED IN THIS BOOK. FULL CREDITS TO THE OWNERS. P.S. Thank you for giving this a read! This is a rewrite of my first crime/romance/vampire story now written in 1st person POV here on Goodnovel. Sit tight and enjoy! (๑ ❛._.❛ ๑)❤ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PREVIEW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .◇ KEL ◇It took me a while, but I finally figured it out. I let out a sigh, white mists coming out of my nose and mouth, the dimness ampli
◇ KEL ◇His phone wasn't on loudspeaker, but I could hear enough. His dad just had this deep and clear-cut, usually authoritative voice. I grabbed my satchel and pretended not to listen in before unbuckling my seat belt. Ignoring Miles and his glances took some acting skills; I just didn't want him to think I was eavesdropping.He reclined in the driver seat, frowning, his attention currently held by an unexpected phone call from his parents. Mr. Falco asked another question over the phone as Miles parked in front of the house."Sì, Pappa." Miles pulled the car keys out of the ignition before I stepped out of the passenger seat. "Erm...sì. Aspetti, forse verrò," Miles said, his obvious reticence thinning his voice. With his cellphone pressed onto his ear, he muttered more Italian phrases and stepped out of his car, hurriedly and with a mild frown I got used to seeing every time he talked to his parents.Consistent and quite curiosity-piquing, but definitely none of my beeswax.Miles
◇ KEL ◇ "Dessert? Bought pudding and chocolate cake." Miles glanced at me."Thanks. Maybe later," I replied as I stood still. I gripped my phone, secretly anxious for a call or a text from an unregistered number. Jill's quick phone call surprised me as much as it was informative. I had to keep it short and casual, or else Miles would think I was having another panic attack.Part of me just didn't want Miles to notice anything unusual. I glanced around the spacious basement. Paint-smeared cans, scrapped lifesize canvasses, and soiled, overused rags littered the floor of the studio, and most of them were just days-old trash waiting to get stuffed into large garbage bags.It was the only room in the house where my artistic friend didn't observe cleanliness and order to an impressive degree. It was also the only room where I was least welcomed in. Miles loved working on his art in total solitude, quiet and undisturbed. White lights lit the basement but not too brightly. He probably l