"Kelan, please focus here!"
"May I have a photo with you?"
"Great actor. Great actor."
The sounds of excitement reverberated, with fans lining the red carpet, eagerly reaching out for a moment with me. The nickname had stuck after a particularly intense romantic scene in my debut film. I stood casually, hands in my pockets, a smile on my face, shielding my eyes behind sunglasses. The premiere of my latest action-adventure film was poised to dominate the box office.
A friend in the police force, a devoted fan of mine, had shared details about the murder. While I suspected that the detective's loyalty was influenced by my father's connections, our conversations had never crossed inappropriate boundaries. Over drinks at a strip club, Shane had provided some basic information: a quick hit, shots fired from a black Cadillac through an open window. The perpetrators lacked courage.
Instead of reveling in champagne, I found myself consumed by self-pity and anger. Although I had once idolized my father, my admiration had turned sour. The news was unsettling. I was unaware of the extent of Ernesto's involvement with his family, but I suspected that he held more knowledge than what the media had revealed. Everyone had secrets.
As another limousine pulled up, I maintained a fake smile to deflect the probing gazes of the press, searching for any sign of weakness or scandal. The ties to my family had been established after my first major hit, but that was old news. For now. If my father's revelations were accurate, a scandalous exposé loomed on the horizon. Maybe Ricardo was onto something. I couldn't escape; I stayed put as the limousine door swung open, revealing a stunning blonde who acknowledged the ecstatic crowd.
The screams persisted, anticipating the arrival of the fantasy couple, our on-screen romance fulfilling the desires of the audience. I scoffed at the notion. Trudy's princess-like demeanor was barely tolerable, in dire need of correction. She embodied a true prima donna, but Ernesto insisted that she was the only actress suitable for the role.
"Looks like our star has arrived," Ernesto commented, but I wasn't in the mood for his usual nonsense. We had clashed too many times, and tonight, I had no patience for it. I was aware of his background, but I chose not to hold it against him, just as he did with me. We simply couldn't stand each other. Some might call it a longstanding feud.
I wouldn't reveal that I knew about his father's impending betrayal. Sharing that information wouldn't benefit me and could potentially tip off our enemies. Growing up in a tightly guarded family, I had learned all about being a prisoner in luxurious confinement, much like my mother—an accessory on my father's arm, a trophy he had pursued and won. My birth hadn't been any different; he had expected more children, and when my mother couldn't fulfill that expectation, he directed his disappointment towards his only son.
"After tonight, we won't have to see each other again, Ernesto. Trust me, I have no desire to waste my time with a useless director." My words cut through the charged atmosphere, my tone devoid of emotion as I scrutinized Ernesto's eyes. Behind his arrogant facade, he concealed any knowledge of his father's ominous plans.
"You better honor every press conference and appearance, or I'll make sure you're discredited," Ernesto hissed under his breath.
I turned to face him directly, shaking my head in disdain. "Threats now, Ernesto? That's interesting, coming from you." The tension escalated, and I couldn't help but notice the tightening of his fist, as if ready to throw a punch. Engaging in a physical altercation would undoubtedly make headlines, but he seemed to forget that I was a skilled actor.
"Promises, my friend," Ernesto retorted.
"Hey, hold on, guys." Drake Collier, my agent, intervened, his frustration evident. Stepping in, he glared at both of us. "We're in front of about two hundred reporters. Do you really want to act like five-year-olds?" Drake was always the voice of reason.
Narrowing my eyes, I anticipated Ernesto backing down. The confrontation was already too intense, even for him. My instincts told me he was deeply involved in the potential takeover.
"Besides," Drake continued, "you have an urgent phone call, Kelan."
"I don't want to be interrupted. Just take a message," I snapped, fueled by the smug expression on Ernesto's face.
Drake grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the brewing conflict. "You'll want to take this call. They couldn't reach you, so they tracked me down." Urgency dripped from his words.
Intentionally keeping my phone switched off, I longed for an uninterrupted evening. However, Drake's persistence forced me to reluctantly snatch the phone from his grasp, irritated by the intrusion. The clamor behind me continued, applause serving as my constant companion. "Yes?"
"Is this..." The voice on the other end was distorted.
"Kelan! Kelan!"
The screams persisted, compelling me to move closer to the building. "What did you say? Speak up."
"Is this Victor Racini?"
My instinct was to end the call right then and there. "Who is this exactly? You have two seconds before I hang up."
"This is Dr. Wallace Tucker from University Hospital. I regret to inform you that your father has been involved in an... accident."
Those precise words had been spoken to me previously, uttered with the same hesitancy on the day my mother was brutally murdered. Time seemed to slow down as the doctor's words reverberated in my ears. In that moment, I turned my gaze towards Ernesto, our eyes locking.
A new war had just begun.
As the phone call lingered in the air, a chill crept down my spine. The applause from the red carpet felt distant, a surreal soundtrack to the unfolding drama. I pushed myself to refocus on Dr. Tucker's voice.
"I understand that this is difficult to process, Mr. Racini. Your father is currently in critical condition. We advise you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."
Critical condition. The words echoed in my mind, evoking memories of past losses, and a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Ernesto's arrogant demeanor faded into the background as the gravity of the situation took hold.
"Mr. Racini, are you still there?" Dr. Tucker's voice snapped me back to the present.
"Yes, I'm here. I'll be there shortly," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
Ending the call, I turned to face Ernesto, a newfound understanding reflected in his eyes. The petty conflicts between us suddenly seemed inconsequential compared to the family crisis unfolding before us. Drake, still at my side, wore a genuinely concerned expression.
"Family comes first," he said softly, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through his typically pragmatic nature.
I nodded, and without another word, we maneuvered through the bustling crowd, leaving behind the glitz and glamour of the premiere for the harsh reality awaiting us at the hospital. The war had just begun, but it was a different battle than I had anticipated, and the lines between adversaries and allies were more blurred than ever.
"Do you really think it's wise to discuss this here?" Grinder's rough voice grated on my ears as I shifted my gaze towards the imposing man. His eyes held a mix of anger and suspicion, as if he doubted my involvement in the assassination attempt. I had assigned another individual to protect my father, reserving Grinder's assistance for other purposes. My decision hadn't sat well with him. However, within the complex dynamics of crime families, there were unspoken rules, mandates followed by every capo and soldier alike. Whether they liked or respected me was irrelevant, but they had to obey orders. Protecting the Cosa Nostra had become the top priority. I had indeed absorbed everything my father had instilled in me. "I'm certain. I don't want any attention drawn to my involvement. Do you understand?" I stressed the importance of discretion as Grinder shifted uneasily, maintaining his cold gaze. "Yes, boss," he replied. I also required his protection. I wasn't naive, and he was well-
"Damn, buddy. Los Angeles is doing wonders for your tan," Miguel playfully teased as he entered the room, moving with a swagger. "Well, that's part of the job description," I replied absentmindedly. "You're definitely not your father," Lorenzo remarked, heading straight for the bar. "Damn, would you look at those curves." He made some adjustments while leering out the window. I rubbed my temples, tolerating Lorenzo's presence despite finding him somewhat distasteful. "Hands off, she's off-limits." "Same old Victor. Or should we start calling you boss now?" Lorenzo sneered. "That's enough, Lorenzo," Dominick reprimanded. "We're here for a reason. Any word of a war brewing?" "Only from my sources," I said with wavering confidence. I knew what was expected of me. "How's your father holding up?" Miguel inquired. "It's touch and go." "Who the hell is responsible for this mess? It's all over the news. We might as well help you settle in and take care of this bastard while we're at i
Dominick approached, walking closer. "She's scheduled to marry Ernesto Satori in two days. It seems to be an arranged marriage, and it came together quite quickly. The union will bring significant wealth, and the connections are almost as valuable as the money." "As I've said, the man is nothing but a despicable individual," Aleksei growled. "Damn. That's perfect," Lorenzo muttered quietly. "What the hell?" My anger transformed into rage, and spots appeared before my eyes. Everything, even the movie, had been a setup. If I had been closer to my father, I might have detected this scheme months ago. "If that's the case, they can easily dismantle my father's control over California and the entire West Coast." "Exactly," Dominick said, smiling. He moved even closer. "You need to take action regarding this." "What can I possibly do at this stage?" I already knew the answer, understanding exactly where Dominick's twisted mind was leading. "You can stop the marriage and make a firm stan
MADELINE Caught. Abducted. The concept had never crossed my mind until now. Although my father had been an exceptional instructor, teaching me various forms of combat, he had never truly explained the harsh reality of falling into the clutches of a predator. And Victor Racini was undeniably a sinister, intimidating, and unpredictable predator. He was also an actor, having abandoned his upbringing for a more glamorous existence. The irony of him being the one to abduct me left me with countless questions. What was his motive? My guess was that he aimed to thwart the West Coast takeover attempt. I was nothing more than a pawn. However, he was engaged in a perilous and intricate game. I had overheard enough gossip about the recent nightclub murders just a few miles from my apartment. His father's men had been slain, gunned down in the streets. His father, presumed dead, had been shot. Perhaps this was merely an act of revenge. How deeply involved was my father in all of this? My fat
Suppressing a whimper, I held my breath as he roughly touched me. In an instant, I recoiled against the wall as his hand grazed my intimate area. At the same time, the file slipped out from my dress, tumbling to the ground. The second man's amusement vanished as he circled the first brute, examining the fallen file. "Interesting. The boss won't be pleased." "What a pity," I muttered through clenched teeth. The second brute shoved me forward. My fists clenched. Another careless mistake. It wouldn't be repeated. Facing an elaborate staircase, I descended deliberately, despite Victor's probable indifference. Whatever his motives were, I was merely a fraction of them. The soldiers followed behind me, gesturing to the left when I reached the bottom step. With my head held high, I approached, though my stomach churned persistently. The room was vast and lavishly furnished, defying my expectations of a movie star's taste. Glimpses through the windows revealed meticulously manicured sur
My response clearly failed to satisfy him. "Instead of starting with a pleasant dinner and engaging conversation, I will proceed with your punishment right away," he declared. Abruptly pulling away, he snatched the glass from my hand and swiftly returned the file to his pocket. Gripping my arm tightly, he forcefully led me out of the room and down a hallway, eventually bringing us to a spacious and beautiful kitchen. The stainless steel appliances gleamed under the single light above the stove, and the expansive granite counters added to the elegance of the space. "What do you intend to do?" His grip remained firm, his fingers digging into my skin. "Remove your dress," he commanded, while stepping back slightly, towering over me. He lowered his head, bringing his lips dangerously close to mine. I could almost hear the ragged rhythm of his heartbeat, pounding in his chest. The electric intensity I had previously felt surged to new heights, igniting a wave of intense heat between my
I despise you. I despise you deeply! I held back my tears, biting my tongue to prevent any sign of vulnerability. He wouldn't witness me shedding a single tear. No, that wasn't going to happen. "I'm going to administer thirty lashes, Madeline. That should make it clear to you that I mean what I say. I will protect you in this house, but you will not attempt to harm or kill me or my men. If you do, there won't be a second chance." I knew he wasn't making an empty threat. It wasn't a mere warning, but a genuine promise. "Yes, sir," I forced the words through gritted teeth, closing my eyes as he patted both of my buttocks. The sound of the belt swishing through the air felt like an eternity, as if by some miracle, time had frozen. I felt light-headed, refusing to breathe or think. When the thick strap struck the center of my behind, I didn't react at all. There was no pain. Not even a tingling sensation. I shifted my hips, finally taking a deep breath. The second swishing sound wasn
"Very tight. Just as all well-behaved individuals should be. And I believe you don't want me to leave you alone. In fact, I think you desire me to push you to your limits. Perhaps engaging in sexual activities with you daily and claiming every orifice as mine will satisfy you. Or maybe I need to go even further, taking you to extreme measures." He continued to apply pressure, taking his time. The pain was excruciating, biting, and dreadful, and... suddenly, a moment of pleasure overwhelmed me, both blissful and incapacitating. I let out a groan, expelling every bit of air from my lungs. He thrust forcefully and rapidly after a few seconds. "Such a good girl. I suspect you crave pain, don't you? You yearn for a man to fulfill all those urges that awaken in the middle of the night." Curse him! My thoughts were in disarray, my mind unable to make sense of it all. No matter how many times I tried to scream that he was a monster, a dazzling surge of electricity continued to course throug