"Absolutely everything! I will ensure that you and your companions have a splendid feast!" His laughter was hearty, and his face flushed red due to the extra weight he carried. I had often been envious of his seemingly normal life. "That sounds delightful, my friend. I am eagerly looking forward to it. Where is your father?" "You work too much, my friend. You need a wife, someone who will keep you at home in the evenings, and a house filled with children." I chuckled and shook my head. "One day, Russo. One day." I patted him on the shoulder before making my way towards the back room. Luigi had always been accommodating, closing off the private area and keeping a watchful eye whenever I asked. Was I taking a significant risk? Perhaps, but Russo's establishment had always remained under the radar, never mentioned in any way. I had been handling the money collection ever since I was allowed into my father's world. Was the choice of location ironic? Maybe I wanted to test fate. Hell, m

The partnership we had forged over the past two years had proven successful. "I have another idea that I'd like to propose, something for everyone to consider," I carefully voiced my thoughts. Dominick raised an intrigued eyebrow, leaning in closer. "We're all ears. What's on your mind?" It was an unconventional approach, no doubt about it. But it held immense power, capable of securing our control over the entire country, including all the ports within the continental United States. The smaller cartels would never be able to challenge our authority again. Yet, with such significant change came inherent risks. We would become bigger targets, facing a new regime and a fresh generation of adversaries. The possibilities were boundless. And for the first time in years, I felt a spark of excitement for the future, but only if a certain vibrant and spirited woman remained by my side. Against all reason, she was the one I was already falling hard for. The hunt was underway. I had been

Death had been a constant presence in my life since I was a child. I witnessed my father's brutal enforcement of justice, executing one of his own men in cold blood. The nauseating feeling in my stomach that day was etched into my memory, a stark reminder of my father's power and influence. Loss had plagued my family, almost tearing my parents apart years ago. And now, faced with the possibility of Emily's death, I realized how unaccustomed I was to such emotions. I had built walls around my heart, refusing to let anyone in, keeping relationships distant. It was the way my family operated, maintaining control and isolation. Loneliness had become my companion. My father had drilled into me the importance of detachment. If I didn't care about anyone, I wouldn't experience the pain of loss. We were forbidden from having pets in our household, and laughter was a rare occurrence. Holidays were marked by my mother's tears, and my father's absence from our lives was a constant reminder of

EMILY Dread filled every fiber of my being, escalating with each passing moment. The presence of an unidentified and potentially dangerous entity outside had instilled a profound and all-encompassing fear within me. The arduous journey to the cabin, fraught with treacherous snow and ice, had been distressing, but at least Dante had proven himself to be kind and communicative. However, throughout the entire trip, I had been plagued by worry, unable to relax, particularly because Dante kept glancing into the rearview mirror as if we were being pursued by monsters. It felt as though our lives were in imminent danger. And now this. My stomach churned, and my heart raced with the weight of the tragedy that might have unfolded, as well as the knowledge that Rafael had come searching for us. It was difficult to believe that he genuinely cared, considering how little I knew about him now. Since being forcefully taken from his house, my thoughts had been consumed by the enigmatic and rugge

Rafael's lips curled into a faint smile as he recounted the conversation with his father. "He told me that one day, as the firstborn son, I would inherit the responsibility he carried. He believed in my ability to protect those I cared about. At the time, I was too young to fully comprehend his words, but in that moment, I felt like I was on top of the world, as if my father was telling me I was special." His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm... sorry," I murmured. "There's no need to apologize. That night marked the beginning of my journey into adulthood. He also warned me to be cautious in choosing whom to trust, as caring for others came with risks." "That's a terrible thing to tell a young boy," I said, my voice filled with empathy. Rafael raised an eyebrow. "Is it? He was preparing me for a life within the dark realm of a mafia family. After that day, I respected him even more." "Why are you sharing this with me?" I mustered the courage to