Book Cover By: @writermarie__
Five years after a night of forbidden passion, a powerful mafia Don's violent pursuit of a debt leads him back to the enigmatic dancer unaware that she holds a secret that could shatter his empire: his heir.
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Tristian
The metallic tang of blood filled the air, thick and cloying. I stood over Moretti's twitching form, the acrid smell of gunpowder stinging my nostrils.
He gurgled, a pathetic sound that only fueled the burning rage that still simmered within me. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough for the terror he inflicted on Trevor, on Lyric, on my entire life.
I tossed the empty clip from my Beretta, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Grabbing the gun he'd dropped, a heavy Sig Sauer, I emptied that one too. Each bullet was a memory - Trevor's kidnapped face, Lyric's tear-streaked one, the forced promise to marry Flora.
The rooftop, once a symbol of Moretti's power, was now a charnel house. Bodies were strewn haphazardly, a testament to the brutal efficiency of my men. I'd envisioned a slow, agonizing death for Moretti, a symphony of pain that would mirror the torment he'd put my family through. But I didn't have the time. Lyric and Trevor needed me.
"That's better," I muttered, the words a guttural growl. The sounds of the aftermath crashed back around me - the groans of the wounded, the heavy breathing of adrenaline-pumped soldiers, the distant sirens wailing like mournful ghosts.
Alex appeared, a silent shadow emerging from the chaos. His eyes met mine, and a curt nod acknowledged the completion of the task. He had witnessed a lot during our arrangement and has seen a lot of my kills.
"Your Don is dead," I roared, my voice amplified by the vast emptiness above. "So is his precious little daughter," I lied. It was the final nail in Moretti's coffin, the ultimate humiliation. "I own you now. You have a choice. Work under me, and you will be rewarded with a life of stability, respect, and opportunity." My gaze swept across the faces of Moretti's remaining soldiers, a mixture of fear and resentment etched on their features. "Or, defy me. But know this: I will hunt you down. Every single one of you. There will be no escape, no sanctuary. My reach is long, and my methods...unpleasant."
The silence was deafening, broken only by the whisper of the wind. They knew my reputation. They knew I wasn't making idle threats. Alex, a monolith of muscle and lethal intent, positioned himself by the stairwell entrance, a silent deterrent.
One fool, blinded by loyalty or perhaps driven by sheer desperation, broke the stalemate. He bolted, scrambling towards the only perceived escape. Alex moved with terrifying speed. A blur of motion, a sickening crack, and the deserter crumpled to the ground, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
I sighed, more annoyed than surprised. "Anyone else feeling...uninspired by their continued existence?" I asked, my voice laced with mock concern.
Silence. Good.
"Clean this mess up," I commanded, gesturing towards the carnage. "I have a family to find." A new feeling surged through me, eclipsing the rage - a fierce, protective love. I was free. Free from Moretti's manipulations, free to focus on the only things that mattered.
