Lahat ng Kabanata ng Shattered Attraction: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

GabriellaThere was a little bounce in my steps as I went up the staircase towards my room, a smile tugged the corners of my lips as the memory of Dante laughing earlier replayed in my mind. I was humming a tune when I came to an abrupt halt.She was there.Sofia was sitting very casually on the bed like she owned it. Her red dress clung loosely to her curves and her bold red lipstick matched the smirk playing on her lips. The malice I saw in her eyes the moment our gaze met sent a cold chill down my spine.“Sofia” I said, setting the shopping bags I carried on the table, my voice was louder than I had expected it to be. “What are you doing in my room?”Her eyes shined with amusement as she crossed her legs. “Oh, I see you’ve learnt my name”I went further into the room, the tension in the air thick as I felt like an intruder in my own room. “Does Dante know you are—““Dante?” She interrupted mockingly. “Of course he knows, he gave me the go ahead to do anything I want” she smirked, t

Dante The voices of my men carried faintly through the house as I made my way down the stairs. The weight of the Glock in my hand felt familiar, grounding me as I checked the magazine. Fully loaded.I slid the weapon into the waistband of my jeans, adjusting it until the cool metal rested against my skin. When I entered the sitting room, every conversation stopped. The air grew heavy, and all eyes shifted toward me. My men were already on edge, like they could sense the tension I carried with me like a storm cloud. “Luca,” I said as I took my seat, the chair creaking under my weight. “Status.” Luca, the crew’s tech wizard, moved quickly, setting his laptop in front of me. The screen flickered to life, displaying a live feed.Nonna lay on a narrow bed in a small, dark room. She looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. For a moment, my grip on the armrest loosened. Then the rage within me spiked all over again. She didn’t belong there. Locked away like a

DanteI checked the Glock for the third time tonight, the cold metal felt heavy against my palm. The vitallos estate loomed in the distance, it felt eerie, like it was watching.Rico sat in the driver's seat, the faint glow of the dashboard casting sharp lines on his face. In the back of the van, Luca and four of my men sat quietly, their silence almost deafening in the confined space. “Just a few more minutes, boss. You good?” Luca's voice crackled through the earpiece. I glanced at my watch—11:58. It was almost time. “I’m good. Just keep your eyes sharp, Luca” I responded.A grunt from the back of the van—Antonio, probably. “This feels off,” he muttered.The others in the back with him laughed, dismissing him.“Everything feels off to you,” Rico said without looking back, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.“Maybe because it usually is,” Antonio shot back.“Quiet,” I snapped, silencing them. “Focus.”A security switch was happening at the estate, just as we planned. Our

The high-pitched ringing in his ears drowned out everything else.His vision swam, a murky blur of smoke and shadows. His fingers trembled as he reached up to wipe the blood from his forehead, but even that small movement sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. What the hell had just happened? The memories came in jagged flashes—Rico behind the wheel, his knuckles white on the steering column. The sudden lurch of the vehicle as they lost control. The sickening crunch of metal against concrete. Then nothing. Coughing, he tried to move, but the seatbelt bit into his chest wickedly. He gritted his teeth, blinking rapidly as the smoke thickened, curling around him. Instinct took over.He fumbled with the buckle, finally freeing himself. He tried the door, shoving with all the strength he had left, but it wouldn’t budge. Through the haze, he noticed movement. He heard feet crunching against broken glass and debris. Strangers. Dante’s pulse spiked. He strained to focus, but his vis

Dante adjusted his suit jacket as he stepped out of the vehicle, inhaling deeply in a futile attempt to steady himself. The night was thick with the scent of rain on pavement, but the air felt heavy—oppressive. Rafael Gambino had set up this meeting, calling it a negotiation over his grandmother’s release and the so-called deal. But Dante knew better. This wasn’t a discussion; it was a power play. The club loomed before him, pulsating with deep bass, the neon glow painting shadows along the brick walls. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat, the scent of expensive liquor mixing with cheap perfume. The bar was bathed in shifting colored lights, illuminating crystal glasses filled with dark amber liquid. Strippers moved languidly, their bodies twisting around poles, their laughter dissolving into the music. Dante barely noticed any of it. His throat was dry, but he wasn’t here for a drink. His mind was locked on one thing—Nonna. He forced his shoulders to stay relaxed as