THIRD PERSON’S POV
“What do you mean you got kicked out?” Kayla Neel, soon to be Vasillios, screamed into the phone. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and looked around the kitchen to make sure no one was listening.She had given Dylan an excuse and left the bedroom to take this call, thinking it would be good news from the spy she had planted to monitor her sister’s every move.“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t know how but it’s like Kira convinced Adrian to kick me and my mom out,” a nervous Jena stammered on the other end of the line.“How does Kira get Azreal to do anything? I thought you said you had him wrapped around your finger!” Kayla snapped, her frustration increasing.“I... I thought so too, but—”“Stop with the fucking excuses! I didn’t get you out of a life in jail just for you to get kicked out,” Kayla interrupted, looking livid.Two months ago, when Jena was arrested for manipulating her principal’s sixteen-year-old son intKIRA’S POVThe drive was slow and tense, maybe because I took thirty minutes to get ready instead of ten. But he didn’t seem pissed… or did he?I raised my gaze from the car’s dashboard to Adrian’s face, his furrowed brows being the first thing I noticed. I glanced at the road and back at him.“Soo…” I tried starting a conversation with him. “Who’s your favourite writer so far?”His furrowed brows eased up as he glanced at me.“So you just assume I have a favourite writer because I stood up for poor Shakespeare?” he smirked, tapping his finger on the steering wheel at intervals. “Or because I’m an unlikely bread and meat combination?” he chuckled softly.So he didn’t think I was going crazy with that explanation.“Maybe??” I replied, opening up my hands.“Pick one, Kira.”My breath hitched, and I turned out the window to hide the redness of my cheeks.“Which is it?”I smiled and turned back to him.“Both of them,” I beamed, maybe because he didn’t turn out mad at me… but I was still c
KIRA’S POVThe rays from the sun were my not-so-silent alarm… The gentle but pinching feel on my skin stirred me awake, and I shifted away from the light, moving onto the side of the bed where I presumed the sun hadn’t gotten to.My hand comes in contact with something. Moving my hands around, it turns out to be someone.Wait, don’t tell me—I slowly pop my eyes open and stare at Adrian, peacefully asleep before me. He actually slept in my bed.“He ended up sleeping,” I scoffed.“So much for a bed timeframe,” I chuckled.My eyes slowly roamed his face, examining the features.What Antonio had said after Adrian the other day rang in my head. “What must have happened that cost him his trust in people?” I whisper, sitting up.I really wanted to know why he was like this…why he was Adrian.Why everyone was scared of him, and why he refused to open up to anyone.He was like a hard nut to crack, and I was running out of ideas to crack him open.My hand brushes over his body in an attempt to
KIRA'S POV I sat on the couch, my sleepy eyes fixed on the TV screen but my mind was all over the place. Actually I was thinking about something in particular, or should I say trying not to think about someone. The sound of the key card chime drew my attention and I instantly looked back. Speaking of the devil, I watched as Adrain walked into the living room and stood by the couch, his face unreadable. He was looking at the TV screen but I was sure he wasn't paying attention to it. “His hair was messy, his usually perfect shirt was missing a few buttons, and he looked completely disheveled. What was going on with him?”He didn't talk, or move. He just stood there like a statue, eyes glued to the screen. Really? Was this supposed to be another round of silence treatment?I rolled my eyes, whatever. I was still pissed from how he had spoken to me, if he wanted to be mute, fine. Two could play in that game. I grabbed the remote of the table, turned off the TV and walked past him.
ADRIAN’S POVThey tried to kill me.I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and shut my eyes, trying to soothe the sea of rage flooding my mind.Romano was down… but what was the pattern?Before today, the attacks had been surrounding the business—like someone wanted to crumble my empire and erode my family’s influence. But today, I was targeted.Fuck. This makes no fucking sense. None of this makes sense.Oliver said it was a member of my family.After the cyanide incident, I hired a covert branch of an intelligence agency, International Mercenaries. Off-the-books, black-budget ghosts who owed me favors… and some, their lives.It was clear I didn't know who to trust, so they secretly infiltrated my world, my companies, even my father’s business and Dylans so-called clubs. They moved like shadows… posing as delivery men, maids, cleaners, clients.No one knew.They tracked everything, calls, movements, shifts in behavior. But aside from a few petty thefts, there was nothing. Nothing
ADRIANS POV.An arm shoved me aside, and I watched as the bullet hit Romano in the chest.“Fuck!”I quickly reached for the gun in my holster and fired at the man who had shot him.The shooter ran sprinting for a black van that screeched to a halt near us.“Cut them off!” I shouted, still firing. I landed a shot on the bastard just as Victor bolted after the van, which sped off recklessly to get out of the parking lot.Gunshots echoed in the air. I aimed low and shot at the tires. The van jolted, one tire blown, but the driver kept going. Smoke and shredded rubber followed them just outside the gates.They were gone.My men and VPA security stormed into the parking area, but it was too late.“Fuck!” I yelled, running a hand through my hair as I turned back to Romano. He was unconscious, the bullet hitting somewhere vital. I dropped to my knees, and put two fingers against his neck. Slow staggared breaths.He was alive but barely.His brown shirt was stained red, blood staining around
ADRAIN’S POV.I watched as Kira from made her meal in her fucking underwear, my cock was doing theashing in my pants just watching her, something fell and she leaned down to grab it griving me a full show of her perfect round ass.Fuck.I dragged my hands around my cock to try and realease some of the tension but it was pointless, “What do you think of our offer sir?” I heard Julio’s lawyer say. Julio Rossi was a businessman… or at least, that’s what he liked to call himself. He owned multiple establishments, Currently, he was the proud, undeserving owner of the second-biggest club in the heart of Sicily. His family also happens to be one of the four leading families of the Costa.You see, the entirety of the Italian mafia was made up of four powerful families: Rossi, DeLuca, Montavero, and Vasillios. With my family sitting at the top. Each family controlled its own territory and no one except me, that is, dared to conduct business on an