Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Vincenzo Capone - Fifteen years old. The air weighed on me as mourners came together at our estate, a testament to the fortune amassed by generations of Capones. Dressed in a meticulously tailored black suit, I stood stoically, alongside my father Salvatore Capone, I presented a façade of strength despite the grief that lingered beneath.We're Made Men. We don't show our emotions. We bury them. It's a code we live by. It's not about being heartless; it's survival in a world where showing weakness can be more dangerous than any adversary we might face.Within the mansion, decorated with black drapery, mourners navigated through halls to the grand room where the funeral service unfolded. Every corner showed off detailed floral arrangements, a display of wealth juxtaposed against the somber occasion. Lilies and roses perfumed the air, mingling with the heavy fragrance of incense.A polished dark wood casket, a classy piece, rested in the center of the room. Ne

Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"It was not what it looked like," I stammered as Vincenzo, accompanied by Adriano and Silvio, left for work.Throughout this entire time, there had been this unspoken tension and nagging questions hanging over my head. I struggled with the peculiar glances Alessia and Allegra sent pointed glances my way every time Vincenzo so much as took a breath at the breakfast table. It felt like his every inhale and exhale somehow had everything to do with me. Alessia crossed her arms over her chest, her expression carrying a mix of curiosity and concern, "It looked like you and Vincenzo had something going on... romantically."I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "Fine, then it was exactly what it looked like."Alessia let out a laugh, a mixture of amusement and realization. "I knew it. I had a feeling when we flew back from the island that something was going on with Vincenzo and his unusual concern for you. I know him well enough to understand that he won't just get up and fix

Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Pinned against the door, my back arched, my hands sought him out and he grabbed them and intertwined our fingers. He firmly pressed them against the door on either side of me, creating a hard cage that I couldn't escape from. I could feel him getting hard against my stomach, like, seriously stretching the front of his pants. It sent burning heat through me. Knowing I'm doing this to him—it's like this wild, unbridled feeling to have a man this powerful lose control only because of you. My fingers were practically itching to touch, but he wasn't giving my hands any freedom.I moaned into his kiss when he bit on my lip, the sensation, and taste of him hitting me so intensely that my clit throbbed down there.My eyelids flutter shut, the warmth and rush of adrenaline plunging from my chest straight down to my groin in a split second. He pulled away briefly, muttering a "Fuck" under his breath. Before I could respond, he dove back in, his mouth taking control, cravi

Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"Absolutely no knives," Alessia declared the moment I stepped into the kitchen. Without glancing my way, she seemed to sense my presence. Sitting on the counter, Allie took a crisp bite of an apple, a wide grin stretching across her face. Her eyes traced my movements, and the growing swell of her baby bump now made it unmistakably evident that she was expecting."So, Cindy, how was your night? Find a comfortable spot to rest because when I came by your room to make sure you took your pills, it seemed you'd pulled a disappearing act," she teased, a touch of mischief lacing her words.She knew all about it, Alessia must have told her. Of course, she would, these two tell each other everything. "I was at the library, buried in a book...""Are you sure the book was the only thing being buried inside of you?" Allie asked, catching me off-guard, she had never made such a risqué comment in her life before. "I can tell your husband's influence is starting to leave its ma

Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Vincenzo Capone - Fifteen years old. The Capo, my father, a figure of authority, Salvatore Capone stood before me. "You stand on the precipice, Vincenzo, on the edge of loyalty and consequence. This family is your blood, your sanctuary. Once you step in, there's no turning back. Family comes first, above all else – your wife, children, mother, father, your brothers. It's a bond unbroken."A ceremonial knife glinted in the subdued light as it passed to me. "In the crucible of loyalty, a cut to mark your pact. Blood binds, and with this, you embrace the vows of kinship."I ran the knife over my palm, allowing the blood to drip onto Saint Peter's card.Dad with a stern gaze, intoned, "At the sanctum of Saint Peter, this family swears. May your soul burn in hell if you betray your family." My dad seized the Saint Peter card, placing it cautiously above the candle's flame until it ignited. With deliberate movements, he then positioned the burning card onto my bloodi