บททั้งหมดของ THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA : บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

AARONThe mere sight of her, the reality of Mia being here, is a drug I didn’t realize I desperately needed. My chest aches with a tenderness I rarely allow myself to feel, a vulnerability that only she can conjure. The stress of the mafia, the business all fades to a distant echo as I watch her.She looks at me, her eyes, those pools of warm chocolate, mirroring a yearning I instantly recognize. A soft smile plays on her lips, tentative, yet so profoundly intimate. I don't wait another second. I close the distance between us, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against me. The contact is an immediate release, a sigh of relief I didn't even know I was holding in. Her body fits against mine as if it were always meant to be there, a perfect puzzle piece sliding into place.My fingers splay against the small of her back, pressing her closer still, inhaling the soft, sweet scent of her, a mix of vanilla and something uniquely Mia. The tension that’s been coiling in my sho

AARONThe black car glides away taking Mia back to her apartment. The silence that descends is immediate, oppressive. I run a hand over my jaw, the rough stubble a minor distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside. I should go in. There’s a mountain of paperwork waiting, a dozen calls to make, a mafia to manage. But my feet stay rooted to the spot, my gaze fixed on the empty road where the car vanished.A part of me, a desperate, illogical part, wants to call her. To tell the driver to turn around, to bring her back. To insist she stay, to just… be here. The thought flickers, powerful and seductive. It would be so easy. A simple word, and she’d be back in my arms within minutes. The mansion would feel like home again, not just a place I sleep in.I let out a slow breath, the vapor curling in the cold air. The mansion looms behind me, a silent, imposing guardian. I turn to walk back inside, my mind already drifting to the dinner in Italy and canceling any deal with Randall. My phone

AARONThe polished black Range Rover glides through the familiar gates, the wrought iron groaning softly as they swing inward. Sunlight filters through the ancient oak trees lining the drive, dappling the manicured lawns of the mafia members’ general house. Today, it’s a routine check. To be sure that these men are not up to no good.My usual visits are a flurry of activity. The training yard echoes with the rhythmic thud of punching bags, the sharp crack of firearms from the range. The great hall, usually a chaotic hub, buzzes with conversations, men shouting over a game of poker, the clatter of plates from the kitchen as the chefs prepare enough pasta to feed an army. But as I step out of the vehicle, the silence is immediate, deafening. It’s not the serene quiet of a sleeping household, but an unsettling emptiness, a void where constant motion should be.I walk up the grand stone steps, my footsteps echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness. The heavy oak door swings open wi

NATALIEMy fingers hover over the keyboard, but my gaze is fixed on the flickering numbers of my bank balance. It’s pathetic. The sun alone mocks my plans for revenge. Liam Conall. The name tastes like ash on my tongue, the man who stole everything, leaving me with nothing but a gaping wound where my family used to be.I need to get there, to find him, to make him pay. But how? My small savings, from working for my uncle and little sums I got from the gang, won't even cover a fraction of the ticket, let alone the accommodation, the tracking, the living expenses in a foreign country for that period. Frustration bubbles in me. I groan, a strangled sound that dies in my throat. My head falls back against the worn fabric of my sofa, eyes squeezed shut. This is impossible.Just then, my phone rings, a jarring, unwelcome sound in the quiet of my apartment. I flinch, my heart immediately leaping into my throat. The caller ID blazes, sharp and clear: Luca. A shiver runs down my spine, a fami

MIAThe weighty leather bags drag against my fingers, but the anticipation buzzing through me makes them feel light. Today is the day. Italy. Finally, a break from the drama that’s been around me for the longest. I take a deep breath and head out of the lounge of the apartment complex.Drew’s sleek black sedan gleams at the curb. As I approach, my heart lifts. This trip, Drew inclusive makes me feel even better.“Drew!” I call out, a wide smile spreading across my face, and give a happy wave.He looks up, his eyes, usually so sharp and full of playful mischief, devoid of their usual spark. He’s looking at me, but it feels like he’s gazing through me, seeing something far beyond. His gaze is distant, unfocused, a million miles away. It’s a flicker, barely there, but enough to send a wave of unease through my excitement.My smile falters slightly. “Everything okay?” I ask, my voice softer than I intended.He blinks, as if returning from a deep dive. The distant look clears, replaced in