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The weakness exposed

last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 15.08.2026 21:10:39

The courthouse doors burst open, spilling people onto the wide marble steps.

Reporters surged forward, microphones jabbing like spears, cameras flashing in blinding bursts.

Noah blinked against the light, clutching Eli’s file to his chest. His palms were damp, fingers slipping against the folder.

“Keep close,” Dominic murmured, arm wrapping around him. His grip was strong, almost choking, but it kept Noah steady in the chaos.

The throng moved aside a little, scared at how tall and heavy Dom
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  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   Chapter 26 Memories of the Past

    The elevator doors opened with a sluggish hiss. Dominic Voss stumbled out, shoulders hunched, the sleek cut of his charcoal suit ruined by a loosened tie and whiskey stains across the collar. His hair, usually combed to precision, fell over sharp eyes that now struggled to focus. He kicked the edge of the console table in his penthouse foyer and muttered something under his breath.“Noah,” he called, though it sounded more like a groan than a name.From the living room, Noah rose quickly. He had been pacing, waiting. His chest tightened at the sight of Dominic—the man who usually carried himself like a king reduced to this careless figure.“Where were you?” Noah demanded, his voice sharp, betraying more worry than anger. “You reek of whiskey. You couldn’t even call?”Dominic dropped onto the couch, one arm flung along the backrest. His gaze lingered on the skyline beyond the glass wall. “Meetings ran late,” he said, dismissing it with a flick of his hand.“Don’t lie to me.” Noah

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   The weakness exposed

    The courthouse doors burst open, spilling people onto the wide marble steps. Reporters surged forward, microphones jabbing like spears, cameras flashing in blinding bursts. Noah blinked against the light, clutching Eli’s file to his chest. His palms were damp, fingers slipping against the folder.“Keep close,” Dominic murmured, arm wrapping around him. His grip was strong, almost choking, but it kept Noah steady in the chaos. The throng moved aside a little, scared at how tall and heavy Dominic was. His dark suit fit him wonderfully, and the sharp lines of it stood out against the afternoon sun. His face was unreadable yet deadly.“Mr. Voss, how do you respond to Harper’s testimony?” a reporter shouted.Noah swallowed hard, lowering his head. He could still hear Harper’s polished words echoing in his skull, each one crafted to make him look small.Then she appeared—Harper, hair gleaming like spun gold, smile practiced for the cameras. Every step was poised, heels clicking conf

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   The Courtroom Arrival

    The courthouse hummed with restless murmurs, every sound magnified by polished marble walls. Noah’s shoes clicked too loudly as he walked beside Dominic, a manila folder clutched against his chest like a shield. His palms were slick with sweat, though Dominic’s hand brushing the small of his back steadied him for a moment.“You’re trembling,” Dominic murmured, voice low and even.“I’m fine,” Noah lied, though his voice cracked.“You don’t look fine.” Dominic’s dark eyes cut sideways, sharp as glass. “Keep your head up. She feeds on weakness.”Before Noah could answer, the air shifted. Harper entered, heels striking the floor with deliberate grace. Her hair gleamed under the courthouse lights, every strand perfectly arranged, her fitted dress projecting power. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile, but her eyes carried frost.Noah’s throat tightened. Their gazes locked, and for a fraction of a second, Harper’s smile widened, mocking.Dominic’s hand left Noah’s back, replaced

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   Chains in the Courtroom

    Dominic’s penthouse office glowed with the first rays of dawn. The skyline stretched endlessly behind him, glass walls framing a kingdom he owned piece by piece. He sat at a mahogany desk polished to perfection, one hand drumming against the armrest while the other held his phone to his ear. His voice was steel wrapped in velvet.“File it today. Motions, counterclaims—make her choke on paperwork before she breathes. I don’t want Harper stepping near a courtroom without tripping over a wall of obstacles. Do you understand me?”“Yes, Mr. Voss,” the lawyer’s voice crackled through the speaker.“Good. Don’t wait for instructions. I pay you to anticipate.” Dominic ended the call with a flick of his thumb, leaning back in his chair, expression carved in stone.The office door opened without warning. Noah stepped in, his hair still damp from the shower, his lean frame wrapped in a white T-shirt and joggers. He froze at the sight of Dominic lowering the phone. His chest tightened. “What wa

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   The Enemy in the Dark

    The garage smelt like oil and wet concrete, and every sound was stretched out by the echo. Dominic's footsteps broke the silence. They were steady and purposeful, and his tailored coat brushed against his thighs as he walked. The lights above flickered, casting broken rays of light around the room. Ahead, a silver sedan gleamed beneath the low ceiling, and beside it, Harper leaned casually against the driver’s side.She wore a cream trench, heels clicking against the ground when she shifted her stance. Her lips painted red, her hair sleek as though she had just walked off a magazine spread. Yet her knuckles tightened around her car keys, the metal pressed too hard into her palm.“You really couldn’t choose a café like everyone else?” Dominic’s voice carried, smooth but edged with disdain.Harper’s smile bloomed, practiced and sharp. “And give you the satisfaction of an audience? No, Dominic. This suits us better.”He stopped a few feet away, hands sliding into his pockets, eyes

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   The Battle for Eli’s Future

    The dining table was painted a delicate gold as the early light streamed through the penthouse's floor-to-ceiling windows. The soft clatter of silverware blended with the aroma of roasted coffee. Noah sat opposite Dominic, his plate half-touched. His nerves itched beneath his skin, the kind that made him tap his fork against porcelain without realizing.Dominic noticed. He always noticed. His gray eyes lifted from the morning paper, sharp, waiting. “You’ve been restless all week. Say it.”Noah took a breath, heart hammering. “I want Eli to be enrolled in school.”The words snapped the silence like glass shattering.Dominic’s brow creased, his scar drawing darker. “No.” He didn’t hesitate. One syllable, final, like a slammed door.“Why not?” Noah leaned forward, his tone edged with frustration. “He needs to be around other kids. He needs—”“He needs to be safe,” Dominic cut in, voice calm but carrying steel. “The outside world is unpredictable. Strangers, teachers, parents—too m

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   (Noah’s POV)

    “Hey Riley can we meet up today?” Noah asked over the phone.“Depends, who am I talking to?” Riley asked.“It's Noah,” he said.“Oh Noah! What's up? Why calling with a new line?” Riley asked again.“Long story. Can we meet up today? I wanna talk to you about something” Noah said.“Sure thing. Meet

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   Chapter 3 (Noah’s POV)

    A shadow darted past the window, the knock still echoing in Noah’s skull. Rain battered the small flat, its cracked walls trembling as he shoved a chair under the doorknob. His muscles tensed, his hazel eyes wide with panic. A winged tattoo curled across his ribs, a remnant of foster care’s brutal

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   Chapter 2 (Dominic’s POV)

    A bullet screamed past Dominic Voss’s head, Millennium Park erupting into a crimson haze. Grass stained red under his boots as Caleb Warrick’s sneer lingered, the traitor’s shot searing his side. At fifty-two, he towered at six-foot-two, a broad frame carved by years of rule, salt-and-pepper hair

  • Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM)   Chapter 1 (Noah’s POV)

    A gunshot split the night outside Velvet Mirage, the crack echoing over the bass that shook the club’s grimy floor. Inside, Noah Brant danced like a trapped spark, lean muscles flexing under neon slashes of blue and red. At twenty-four, he stood five-foot-ten, dark hair clinging to his brow, hazel

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