LOGINMariaIt was driving me crazy. Standing on the patio on a Tuesday afternoon, and slowly losing my mind.The thought circled my mind over and over, like a word on the tip of my tongue that refused to form. Every piece was there—every clue, every instinct—but it wouldn’t *click*.And the quiet made it worse.When Luca and Adriano left early Monday morning—to check in on their businesses, to warn their captains, to prepare for what might come—the house lost its noise. Its life. Too much silence. Too much space to think. A full house had been a blessing in disguise. Distraction. Movement. Purpose.Now… it was just me and my thoughts. And Liam. He had become my saving grace without even knowing it.The more time I spent with him, the more I saw Adriano in him. That restless energy. The way a half-smile would tug at his lips before breaking into something warmer, fuller. The way he tried to appear composed but couldn’t quite hide the storm beneath.He was running his operations from here,
LiamThe universe had clearly decided this was *mess with Liam* week.Everything I thought I knew—everything I had built myself on—had been ripped out from under me.My siblings feared me. I had wanted—lusted and *obsessed over*—my own sister without knowing who she was to me.My entire life had been shaped by truths that weren’t truths at all. And now? Now I was sitting with a traitor that was posing as my best friend and second, who had murdered my father and was chasing power...mine.I let out a slow breath, staring out the window for a second before turning back into the room.My father…Seamus. He had a blood son. Remi. That I had resented, envied. Been encouraged and coached from behind the scenes to do so. And yet he had trained me, groomed me and above all else... he chose *me*.I didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve the loyalty he had given me… the love… the trust.But he hadn’t raised me to fold under pressure. He hadn’t raised me to *quit*. And I would be damned if the same
DentonA storm was rolling in.I could see it on the horizon—the sky bruising over in deep greys, the wind picking up, dragging the salt-heavy air across the deck. The ocean had turned restless, waves rising higher, crashing harder against the shoreline.Violent. Unpredictable.This time of year the Hampton beachline was mostly empty. Just a few locals—someone jogging with their hood up, a man throwing a ball for his dog, both of them fighting against the wind.Normal life. It felt far removed from mine. I rested my forearms on the railing, staring out at the water, but my mind wasn’t on the storm.It was on her. And on *that* call. Maria.I huffed out a breath, shaking my head slightly. Arianna would have liked her. Hell… I liked her.Good woman. Strong in that quiet way that didn’t need to announce itself. The kind of person people underestimated—until it was too late.And she had come close. Closer than anyone so far. “She is probably safest wherever she is…” My own words echoed ba
Maria The table had been cleared, but no one moved.They lingered—men who commanded empires, reduced to silence by uncertainty. By a girl. By what had been done to her… and what had been done *because* of her.I let my gaze move over each of them. Adriano—restless, unraveling, guilt etched into every line of his face. Luca—watchful, thinking, trying to piece together what didn’t quite fit. Liam—quiet, contained, but I could see the storm beneath. He carried too much for someone so young.Luigi and Stefano—burdened. Not just by the situation, but by what it meant for the family… for everything we stood for.They were all waiting. Not for answers. For direction. Adriano was the one who broke the silence. “Zia…” he said, voice rough. “I think you should call Denton.”I saw Luigi shift beside me immediately, ready to object. I placed my hand gently over his. “Let him speak, Luigi.”Adriano continued, more certain now. “He quit, Zia. I don’t think he’ll take a call from any of us… but you
AdrianoBreakfast should’ve felt normal. It didn’t.Not with everything sitting between us—unspoken, unresolved, and urgent. I filled them in quickly. The government contact. The shutdown. The call with Mason. The fact that whatever we were dealing with had reach—real reach.That alone darkened the mood at the table. Then my phone rang. Every head turned. I glanced at the screen. “Mason.”Silence fell instantly. I answered and put it on speaker. “Morning, Mace…”“When we spoke last night,” he started, voice tight but charged, “we said maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong.I leaned forward slightly.“We were chasing the kidnapper,” he continued, “but he’s got enough clout to stay hidden. What we *do* know is the blood got handed off to the ambulance. And that ambulance tracked to the truck stop.”My pulse picked up. “So that’s where I focussed.”There was something in his voice. Energy. Excitement. “Spit it out, Mace,” I cut in. “You’re killing us here.”A breath. Then—“I’ve got it.
AdrianoIt was close to 10:30 p.m. when we finally called it.The kind of exhaustion that settles deep into your bones had claimed all of us—but no one wanted to be the first to say it. Not when we were finally getting somewhere.Dad and I walked toward our wing in silence, the weight of the day hanging between us. Behind us, Luca and Liam were slower, their voices carrying up the staircase.“…I’m telling you, she practically tripped over herself—” Luca was saying.“Please,” Liam cut in dryly, “pity we share a birthmark but not all this prettiness.”Luca barked out a laugh and shoulder-checked him. “Fuck off.”They kept going, trading jabs, easy… familiar. Laughing. Something twisted in my chest. I missed that. Missed *him*.And the worst part? The distance between us didn’t feel temporary anymore. It felt like something I had caused. Something I might not be able to fix.I dragged my gaze away and checked my phone. A message from Rigsby. Finally.“Night, Dad,” I muttered.“Goodnight,
I sleep better than I have in a long time. No nightmares. No sudden jolts of panic. No waking with my heart racing or my mind trapped in memories I cannot escape. Just warmth. Safety. The steady rise and fall of Adriano’s chest behind me, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist like nothing in th
Liam (Flashback 14 years ago)I was eleven the first time I saw her.It might sound young but I was already my Father’s shadow. Already learning how to rule his Empire.So I was old enough to understand blood.Old enough to understand power.Old enough to recognize when something shifts the balan
Adriano I wake up, the high of yesterday’s race still flowing in my blood.The image of Liana cutting that corner plays in my head like a slow-motion replay. The lean. The precision. The way she waited—calculated—before striking.God.I’ve never been so simultaneously terrified and impressed in my
LiamThe Greeks were supposed to be predictable, this deal was supposed to be sealed, in the bag.Greedy. Calculated. Always looking to undercut but they caved to Adriano at the Venetian.Yet here I am, staring at the quarterly projections on the wall of my office, watching red bleed across territo







