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Maxim's anger
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2025-09-13 19:50:00For weeks, Maxim Santoro had lived in a state of simmering rage.
Every morning bled into night with no peace in between. His men searched in waves, crawling through the city’s alleys, pounding fists on locked doors, dragging secrets from trembling mouths. Still nothing. No Maya. No whispers of where she had fled.It gnawed at him,her absence. She was his property, his pawn, his blood, and she had slipped through his fingers like smoke. Each day without her was an insult. Eac
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The mansion was unusually still that evening, the kind of silence that wrapped itself around the walls and pressed in on anyone moving through it. Lucien’s office hummed with the quiet energy of work left unattended — a stack of reports, a glowing computer screen, and the lingering heat of the sun filtering through the tall windows.Maya had been moving through the corridors, her steps soft but purposeful, carrying a small tray of tea she had prepared herself. The scent of chamomile and lemon was subtle, but it reached Lucien even before she entered the room. He had been buried in a spreadsheet, numbers swimming under his eyes, but he paused, glancing up at the sound.She stepped inside, careful, offering the tray with a tentative smile.“Tea,” she said quietly, voice almost swallowed by the quiet. “I thought you might need a—”“You thought correctly,” Lucien interrupted, voice clipped but not unkind. He gestured toward the table beside him. “Plac
The billionaire Mafia's Pregnant maid Suspicious Confirmed
As Maya placed the small basket of groceries on the counter, careful not to let the clatter betray the tension coiled tight in her chest. Her mind kept replaying the memory she had tried to bury: Georgia, the deliberate tilt of her hand, the vial slipping into Lucien’s drink that night at the party. The plan had been flawless — until Maya had intervened.Maya had thought it would end there, in a blur of dizzy confusion and stolen moments. But she had carried Lucien to his room, had steadied him when the drug’s effects took hold, and in doing so, she had disrupted Georgia’s carefully crafted scheme. And now… now Lucien was married to her, unaware of just how narrowly he had been ensnared, and carrying a child that was the living proof of that night.She moved through the kitchen, hands still trembling slightly. The memories weren’t just unpleasant; they were a warning. Georgia was not done. She never would be. And this time, the stakes were higher. It wasn’t just L
The billionaire Mafia's Pregnant maid whispered intentions
Maya’s hands shook slightly as she walked back to the mansion, the smell of fresh bread and roasted coffee lingering faintly in the cool afternoon air. She had barely processed the encounter with Georgia — that sudden, staged meeting that had left her heart hammering and her confidence in pieces.It wasn’t that Georgia had attacked her outright. No, it had been far more insidious than that. The socialite had smiled, spoken softly, and dropped hints like poisoned breadcrumbs, leaving Maya to follow them into the pit of her own unease.The memory of Georgia’s eyes, sharp and glinting with something unreadable, haunted her.“You’re doing well for yourself,” Georgia had said in the market, almost casual, almost friendly, but with an edge that had made Maya freeze mid-step. “I can see he’s… taken with you. Must be thrilling, isn’t it? To think you’ve secured a place where no one expected you to?”Maya had forced a polite smile, nodding stiffly. “I… I’m
The billionaire Mafia's Pregnant maid The meeting
The city was alive with noise, the kind of restless energy that made Maya feel small and exposed. Cars honked impatiently, shop doors swung open to reveal bright displays, and the chatter of pedestrians carried through the morning air. She pulled her coat tighter around her, tucking her scarf up under her chin, and tried to navigate the crowd without drawing attention.After weeks confined to the mansion, every outing felt like stepping into a gauntlet. Her errands were quick, calculated — a stop at the bakery, the florist, and a small boutique to pick up a few necessities. Each step was measured, eyes darting just enough to avoid lingering attention.But fate, it seemed, had a way of bending even the most careful plans.A familiar, sharp voice cut through the hum of the city, smooth and commanding, yet threaded with something dangerous.“Maya Santoro,” the voice purred, almost as if savoring her name.Maya froze. Her body went rigid, ins
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POV: LucienLucien did not summon her immediately.That alone should have warned her.He spent the morning moving through meetings like a ghost wrapped in authority, signing off on shipments, issuing orders, listening to reports of docks and borders and money laundering through clean channels. His men watched him carefully. They always did when his voice went quiet and his expression went cold.By noon, three people had been fired. One had been beaten for lying. None of it eased the pressure coiled tight in his chest.The letter was gone, burned to ash, but its words lingered, etched into his thoughts like a blade pressing just under skin.He may believe she’s his…Lucien rose from his chair and buttoned his jacket with deliberate calm.“Bring her to the office,” he said.The order traveled fast.Maya felt it before she heard it.The subtle shift in the house. The way servants avoided her eyes. The way a guard lingered too long outside Lu
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The morning brought no peace.Lucien had risen before the sun, his body conditioned to routine long before Maya had ever come into his life. The air in the room was cool, shadows stretching long across the floorboards, but his attention lingered on the figure beside him.She lay curled on her side of the bed, hair spilled across the pillow like dark silk, her breaths slow and uneven. Even in sleep, there was a fragility to her posture, as if she feared the bed itself might reject her.For one dangerous moment, he let his gaze soften. The memory of the night before pressed against him, her sobs trembling through the silence, her body taut until he drew her close. The small, unconscious way she had clutched his shirt, desperate not to be abandoned.It had shaken him. More than it should have.Lucien’s hand hovered over the curve of her hip, fingers twitching with the urge to touch. But he pulled back, clenching his fist instead. Affection
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