I hesitated for a moment, maintaining a stoic expression. The men in the room murmured to themselves, trying to adjust to the fact that I was now in charge. "We have business to take care of, and we have quotas to meet. That will happen, without excuses," I asserted firmly. "There will be no undermining of our operations. We will continue as if nothing has changed. Any information you gather must be reported immediately to Grinder or myself. Any delays or disruptions in shipments will be brought to my attention, and I will handle the responsible parties. All land transactions will go through me alone. If any developers try to back out, they need to understand the consequences. Is that clear?" I let the silence linger, uncertain of how my announcement was being received. They were smart enough to hide their true feelings. "Yes, boss," a few of them mumbled in response. "What about the hit?" Joey asked, breaking the silence. I looked directly at him. He had been around for years and r

Shane maintained his grip on my arm. "Don't make any reckless moves, Victor." I chuckled. "You know exactly who we're dealing with here." "That's what worries me," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Now, give me a rundown of what happened." I recounted the events in detail, keeping a close eye on the doctors' actions. Shane sighed. "Not much to go on at the moment. I'll spread the information, but it seems like everyone is too afraid to talk. This is going to be a difficult situation to contain." "Yeah, I figured." The fear in their hearts was well-deserved. "Call me if you come across any other leads." Shane's voice lacked conviction. He knew I wouldn't seek his assistance. When I remained silent, he sighed again. "I mean it, don't do anything foolish. I'll send two officers up here. Your father will have constant protection." That is, until he was stable enough to be moved to a safer location. The assassin would keep coming until the job was done. That was their modus operandi.

I was consumed by the idea, removing and undressing her dress. She appeared surprised, her eyes widening as I looked down at her, considering her my prized possession. There was no shyness on her face, only her own heightened desire. I embraced her tightly, guiding her into a deep arch and kissing the side of her neck, gently biting in a few places. I wanted to leave marks on her. I wanted her to carry my scent. Most importantly, I wanted her in my arms. Indefinitely. Although the situation should have been alarming, I was a determined man, driven by an insatiable hunger. My primitive sounds filled the air, echoing like a cry in the wilderness as I moved my mouth toward her breasts. Madeline tilted her head back even further, gazing up at the sky as I licked and sucked her nipple, flicking my tongue back and forth. "Yes. Yes. Yes." Her murmurs fueled my actions. With eagerness, I moved to her other breast, taking her rosy nipple into my mouth and biting down until she gasped. He

I was filled with an overwhelming urge to scream at Victor for his persistent use of my name, as if it held some kind of added weight or truth. The silence that followed was suffocating, each passing moment intensifying my unease. Finally, he broke the silence. "What happened to your sister?" he asked, his voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and concern. I sighed heavily, burying my face in my hands as I took a few deep breaths. Reluctantly, I knew I had to delve into the painful past, exposing the truth that both Victor and I sought. "My sister, Sasha, was drawn into what she believed to be the allure and glamour of the mafia," I began, my voice laced with a mix of sorrow and bitterness. "She idolized our father, blinded to his flaws. She yearned to be the companion of a powerful, wealthy, and dangerous man." "And she found one," Victor said softly, his tone filled with understanding. "Yes," I continued, my voice tinged with sadness. "Always the life of the party, she had her wi

I refused to let the silence linger any longer. I turned towards him, gently placing my hands on his chest. His eyes pleaded with me, revealing the immense pain he had endured. "She was killed in a drive-by shooting while we were walking from a coffee shop," he disclosed, his voice carrying a mixture of grief and frustration. "The police believed it was a random act, wrong place at the wrong time. But I knew better. It was an assassination attempt, and she took the bullet meant for me. Just two days later, my mother was killed, a bullet intended for my father." The weight of his words hit me with a force I couldn't ignore. Tears welled up in my eyes once again, empathizing with the profound pain we had both experienced throughout the years. He tilted his head and used his knuckle to wipe away my tears, bringing his finger to his mouth. A single tear slipped past his long, beautiful eyelashes, tracing a path down his face. My heart ached for him, and without hesitation, I rose up on