El Silvon Novels & Stories

Ten-year-old Rhett Grimfang glared at me. I was just about to turn and leave when the hem of my gown became stuck at the corner of the table, tearing it open with a loud rip. "You scheming she-wolf! That was the dress my mother loved most!" Rhett's eyes were red as he stared at me with hatred. "Rhett… you're lying. Sylvia loved gowns inlaid with moonstone crystals. How could she possibly have cherished this plain, old white dress?"

I interrupt, reaching for the box of tissue, “she has videos, Thea. I saw him do it with my own two eyes.” Thea shakes her head, her ponytail bobbing all over the place. “Look, videos can be doctored these days. AI has taken over everything. Who knows —“ “It wasn’t AI.” I interrupt, wincing at the pounding in my skull. “That video was real. Silvan killed his step-mother. Over some… sports car.” It sounds unbelievable even as I say it. So stupidly unbelievable. Silvan works extremely hard. I believe he would never harm another human being over a material possession. But I didn’t know him then…

His gaze, almost instinctively, sought the anchor in the storm. Silas Vance stood near the grand piano, a statue carved from granite. He was Dominic’s head of security, but for the past two years, he’d been Leo’s personal shadow. Ex-military, Silas possessed an imposing stillness. He wasn’t bulky, but lean and powerful, every line of his dark suit hinting at coiled strength. His grey eyes scanned the room with methodical precision, missing nothing. A faint scar traced his strong jawline, a pale whisper of a violent past Leo could only imagine. Silas was a silent sentinel, impassive, professional, an extension of Dominic’s control.

“That’s why it will work.” Inside the terminal in the private hall, Silvio Thorne didn’t walk, he appeared, a shadow made flesh. Silver-haired, lean like a wolf. Navy linen blazer, collar open, no tie. Rings on both hands. His eyes were the color of glacier ice, no warmth, just depth. “Ms. Fabrizio,” he greeted, voice velvet over glass. “They said you wouldn’t come.” “They don’t know me,” Talana said, shaking his hand with the same fingers that once pulled a trigger through a man’s eye.

"I’m teaching you the Silvio Special," Silvio whispered, throwing an arm around my shoulder like we were best friends heading to a movie instead of a girl trying to escape a house full of mobsters, "If you want to sneak out of this mansion undetected, you don't go over the walls. You go under the radar. Come on, Sis. If you're going to ruin Salvatore's night, I want to make sure you actually succeed. It’ll be the funniest thing that's happened in this house since Adriano tried to cook."

Silvio grunted distastefully. Silas scoffed, stepping through the shadows. Silvio noticed a gun in his hand. “She was never yours to begin with.” Silas muttered. Silvio took a threatening step forward, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Yeah? Trying saying that again. Cause now she is my wife.”

I'm just about to run out of my office and stop the fight when I feel Silvio pull me back. "¡Silvio, para! ¡Necesito terminar esto ahora antes de que la maten!" Silvio, stop! I need to finish this now before they kill her! I shout at him, not sure why he's holding me back. "Solo espera. Reloj." Just wait. Watch. Silvio remarks calmly, making me turn back to look at him in confusion. However, he simply nods approvingly toward the fight happening below. I pause in my desire to leave to see that Sienna managed to get the upper hand once again. She not only grabbed the chair from him but also managed to pummel him with it before tossing it out of the cage in annoyance.

“We bait them. Tonight. Private club in Roppongi Kane’s favorite hunting ground. Aiden goes in as my plus-one. I stay visible elsewhere. Draw them out.” Aiden nodded, adrenaline surging. “I’m in.” Silas gripped his nape, pulled him into a hard, possessive kiss. “If anything happens to you—” “It won’t.” Aiden met his gaze. “We end this.” Elena left to coordinate. Silas turned back to Aiden, voice dropping. “One more thing.” He reached into the nightstand drawer, pulled out a slim black box. Inside: a thin leather collar, discreet, elegant. A small silver tag engraved with S.V.

Kayson answered. Silvan was speechless before he replied drily, “That’s… my younger cousin. My parents aren’t exactly big among the Killicks. While I’m a Killick, I’m not like a core family member.” Kayson chuckled. “So you want to achieve something and go further to gain the Killicks’ acknowledgment?” Silvan was astonished. “You can see this too?” “You wear your impatience and eagerness to earn merit on your sleeve,” Kayson answered.

he huffed. “Yeah, because Sinner’s Halo is such a classy name.” Silas scoffed. “It’s not about class, dear brother. Besides yo,u’ll see just how great my ideas are by this weekend.”