Romans & histoires Taking Back Control Novel Grace And Antonio

Author's POV "I don't know what are you talking about" Bella shrugged and walked out of the Library without wasting time. "Weird as fuck!" Dom groaned. Grace ignored both of them and grabbed the book from shelf. "I said don't touch it..." Dom walked towards her to snatch the book. Grace quickly stepped back hid it behind her back. "I won't give it back until and unless you tell me why..." Dom grabbed her hand and twisted it behind her back, Grace gasped when he slammed her against the shelf.

Marcus tries to protest, but I turn to him and say firmly, "This is the only way to get back what truly belongs to me, to protect mom and grandpa’s legacies." I pick two iron rods and throw one at Antonio. He clumsily makes a grab for it but it falls to his feet. One of his guards does a facepalm from the side. They are beginning to lose confidence in their Alpha, especially after seeing him pee in his pants. But Antonio is not giving up. With weapons in our hands, we circle each other. “You disgrace me, Liliana. How dare you bite the hands that fed you?” “You dare talk about disgrace? You took mom and grandpa’s lives!”

He turned and walked out of the laundry room, his stride stiff, his shoulders rigid. Sabatine stood alone in the sudden, echoing silence, the ghost of Anton’s heat still burning on his skin where they’d touched. The spark that had ignited hung in the air, unsated, a promise and a threat. He understood. Anton had stepped back not from lack of desire, but from an excess of it. The control he was exerting was monumental, a dam holding back a flood. He was stepping back because if he didn’t, he would lose control entirely, and in this moment, on the eve of Sabatine’s disappearance, losing control was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

He looked at Samuel, then at Tanya. There was a new expression on his face—something cold and final. It was the look of a man who had finally stopped playing defense. "Max?" Tanya asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "What did she say?" Max didn't answer her directly. He reached out and picked up the small shard of glass Nora had brought. He held it up to the light, his expression unreadable. "Antonio thinks he’s coming here to finalize a takeover," Max said. His voice was a low, resonant growl that seemed to vibrate the very floorboards. "He thinks he’s the only one who knows how to play this game."

“And you turned it into a circus.” Grace stood tall, hair tousled, lips slightly parted. Blood dripped from a shallow cut along her arm, but she didn’t flinch. Her eyes, unblinking, remained fixed on him. “You didn’t give me anything,” she said coolly. “You stole everything.” Nathaniel held Verona in a chokehold, his arms corded with tension. “Give me one reason not to end you.” “Because if you kill me,” Verona gasped, “you’ll never find the rest of what Vincent left behind.”

It wasn’t even about revenge or ideology or even survival in the narrow sense. It was about equivalence, about taking something precious from Clarissa the way she had once taken from me, not maliciously or deliberately, but without permission, without apology, and with the quiet certainty that the world would adjust around it because it always had. Antonio’s eyes remained on me, watching me carefully, like a man waiting to see which way a blade would fall. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a visible reaction. I lifted my chin, smoothed my expression into something composed, something that looked like resolve instead of calculation.

Paolo elbowed him so hard he nearly fell off the couch. “Enough,” Vincenzo commanded. He folded his hands on the table. “This changes things.” My stomach tightened. “What things?” “Antonio.” His voice dropped. “He’s not just after a Mercanti head. He’s after leverage. And whether you like it or not—your connection to Erico is leverage.” A cold wave washed over me. “He won’t use her,” Erico growled. Vincenzo lifted a brow. “You sure? Because last night, he already tried.”

But that was enough for Nickolas, he had heard all that he needed to hear about Owen's motives. Something clicked, the wheels in his head were turning, albeit slowly but they were turning nonetheless. The fire had been nothing but a decoy to get Grace. Whoever wanted her, had been clever enough to get him distracted first. Suddenly the air smelled of wild flowers and ripe lies.

He tensed, but he did not fight back. “You forget your place, Antonio.” “No,” he said, his voice unwavering. “You forget yours.” I shoved him back, and he stumbled before straightening himself. “You think you can control me?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. “You think you can make me change?” Antonio shook his head slowly. “No. I think you’ll destroy yourself.” My breath came out in a slow exhale. “Get out.” Antonio didn’t move. “Now,” I barked, my voice reverberating through the room.