All Chapters of A GAME OF LIES: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The next morning, Montez woke up with the sun streaming through his window. Every day was torturously the same these days. It felt like he was tossed into a loop and cursed to relive the same moments over and over again. His billion-dollar empire was the only thing still keeping him sane. Seriously, how do poor people not die of depression? Wait, some actually do. It wasn’t until he got into the bathtub that the memories of last night’s ordeal with his little Fiore came crossing through his mind. A small smile tugged at his lips as the water worked its magic and the steam deeper into his pores. Funny of her to think she could actually kill him. Just like that? With poison? How would he ever face his ancestors if that had turned out to be his method of death? She was such an Amateur, he wondered how she was able to kill someone like his father. Well, not him. Just how dumb did she think he would be not to notic

When Montez arrived home that evening however, she was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t returned and his bedroom, much to his horror, was a disheveled mess. Not once in his entire life had his room ever looked like something a boar had ransacked! She did this? Wonderful….his eyes darkened….wonderful was the fact that she was an expert at piling up her punishments. After asking the cleaner to tidy the room, he left. Montez waited in his private lounge, his tie loosened, and a glass of whiskey untouched as he awaited her return with his patience running thin every second. Hours passed. Yet Amira had not returned and by then, his patience was gone. Worse still. The debit alerts kept coming. His phone rang a few minutes later. It was Enzo. “How’d it go?” His voice was a lazy drawl from the other end. “I certainly hope you haven’t killed her yet.” He added, suppressing a chuckle. “She’s not back.”

The Maybach screeched to an abrupt halt on the wet asphalt, the stench of burnt rubber hanging in the air. Enzo’s curses filled the tense silence. “Fucking shit! That truck nearly flattened us,” he muttered, both hands locked on the wheel. Amira’s heart thundered against her ribs, her nails digging crescents into her palms. She let out a shaky laugh that was closer to disbelief. “Too close,” she whispered. “Way too close.” Beside her, Montez didn’t laugh. His arm was still draped around her shoulders, protective, possessive, as if his body alone was the barrier keeping death at bay. His jaw ticked, eyes dark and unreadable. “Close doesn’t matter,” he said lowly. “Alive does.” He squeezed her hand assuringly and she swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat. She wanted to argue, to say something about how insane this life around him was, but she never got the chance. He could feel her body sha

Panic swept over the group. They moved quickly, and in wild chaos. One yanked Amira to her feet by the rope tied around her arms, almost dragging her across the floor. Her legs buckled beneath her as she struggled. “Move it, bitch!” he snarled, throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. Amira screamed against the gag, thrashing weakly, but it was useless. They were stronger. They smelled of sweat and smoke and fear. “Take her out the back door!” another barked, loading his weapon. “If Montez wants her, he’s not getting her that easy.” They stormed through the narrow corridors of the warehouse, boots thundering against the concrete. Behind them, the bangs had turned into a violent crash. The front gates were blown open and shouts echoed through the cavernous space, deeper voices moving like a storm. Above all the sound of gunfire cracked mercilessly through the night. Amira f

The long black sedan rolled through the gates of the Giovanni estate just as dusk descended on the Italian countryside. The wrought-iron gates creaked open, the family crest gleaming against the setting sun. From the tinted windows, Rhea Giovanni watched as the familiar villa rose before her, a testament to her family’s wealth and legacy. Its ivory stone glowed under the lanterns, a queen’s palace returned to its queen. Her lips curled slightly, satisfaction flickering in her chest. _Home._ The car slowed, and the moment the door opened, servants hurried forward, bowing with eager reverence. “Welcome home, Signorina Rhea,” one of them greeted, her voice tinged with awe. Rhea stepped out gracefully, her long legs accentuated by the red silk dress that caught the evening light. Diamonds glittered at her ears, understated but lethal like her. She moved with the elegance of someone born to rule, he