VICENZO’S POV I couldn’t sleep. Hell, I didn’t even try. The whiskey bottle was nearly empty, the night dragged too long, and my nerves were frayed like live wires. I paced the length of the penthouse, shirtless, bruised, my jaw clenched tight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the technician’s car engulfed in flames. I heard Mateo’s voice again, “he’s dead”. My fists curled, still raw and bandaged, aching with the need to do something. This wasn't a coincidence. This was a message.
Last Updated : 2025-05-05 Read more