The next morning, Anastasia arrived at the Stewart family villa just as she had been instructed. As she stepped out of the car, the tension in her chest tightened, her heart pounding faster with every step she took toward the imposing entrance. The villa loomed before her like a prison—grand, cold, and suffocating. This was her family, but it did not feel like home now.Inside, her footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, each one amplifying the dread crawling up her spine. It was as if the house itself whispered for her to turn back. But she couldn’t. Not now. She had been summoned, and that meant she had no choice.When she entered the dining room, her eyes immediately landed on Nancy, sitting stiffly at the head of the table, sipping her tea. Juliet, her mother, sat beside her, lips pressed into a hard frown. The tension in the air was suffocating, heavy with unspoken accusations.They didn’t acknowledge her as she stepped inside. It was as if she were invisible—a dismissal that had h
Alex boarded the next available flight to Italy. He kept this decision to himself, telling no one—not even Anastasia. After all, Michael was Anastasia’s friend’s boyfriend. The last thing he wanted was to involve her in what could be a dangerous mission.He knew that Anastasia and Juliet’s friendship was strained, judging by the tension he'd noticed at their last get-together. Still, Anastasia had a noble heart. If she found out what he planned to do, she might try to stop him, appealing to his sense of reason. He couldn’t afford that.“Welcome to Italy, sir,” said the man waiting at the airport. It was Luca De Rossi, the private fixer Alex had hired even before leaving Southlake.A few hours ago, Alex had devised a plan to deal with Michael, but he needed someone familiar with both the legitimate and underworld sides of Italy. After a bit of searching on the internet, he’d found Luca, a former associate of the mafia heir, whose portfolio was filled with dangerous but successful dealin
Being disowned by her family was a bittersweet moment for Anastasia. On one hand, she felt a strange sense of freedom, like she was no longer shackled by their expectations. But on the other hand, it still hurt deeply. The people who were supposed to love her unconditionally had turned their backs on her. Yet she chose her freedom. She chose to chase happiness, no matter how painful the price.As she stepped through the gate of her family villa, a lump formed in her throat. Her mind kept circling back to Alex. She had dialed his number countless times, clinging to the hope that he would answer and that he’d somehow know exactly what to say to make everything right. But all she heard was the same automated voice: “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”With a frustrated sigh, she sent him a text: “Babe, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you.” She stared at the screen for a moment, hoping for a response that didn’t come. There was no time to sit and wait. H
At the first light of morning, Luca arrived again, and Alex slid into the SUV, which was already waiting for him. But as soon as he stepped inside, something felt different. The interior wasn’t the usual one he knew SUVs to always have. This SUV was customized—built for a very specific purpose.Alex’s eyes shifted to the back seat. There was only one chair, set at an angle, facing a large screen that looked like a high-tech workstation. A faint sense of unease crept into his thoughts, but it faded quickly. The strange setup didn’t bother him much—nothing seemed to lately.“I’ve heard news that Michael is in Italy,” Luca said, starting the car. “He came into the country from Southlake at midnight. I’ve got my eyes on him, and in 29 minutes, he’ll be ours.”Alex barely reacted to the news. His confidence was unwavering. He didn’t fear Michael or the task ahead. He was a secretive man of power, wealth, and influence—men like Michael was only temporary obstacles in his path.As the SUV pu
Anastasia arrived back at her apartment but hesitated before stepping out of her car in the driveway. She was still troubled by the events from earlier, unable to shake them from her mind.“What got into me?” she whispered, asking herself over and over. But no answers came. Sighing, she tried to push thoughts of Jackson aside, hoping that it was all behind her now.Finally, she stepped out of her car and reached for the door of her apartment. But as her fingers touched the handle, she noticed something—it was already unlocked."Could it be Alex?" Anastasia wondered, freezing at the door.She had given Alex a spare key a few days after they started dating, just in case he needed to drop by when she wasn’t around. But Alex had always been respectful; he never came over without giving her a heads-up.“He didn’t call today,” she muttered as she stepped inside, hoping Alex would be there and that she'd finally have someone to talk to about her day.But instead, she found someone else in he
Alex and Luca arrived at the front of a building, its towering height resembling that of a skyscraper. On the sleek, glass wall of the building was a 3D inscription that read, "M. Famiglia." At that moment, Alex knew they had arrived at the right place.The front of the building was eerily silent, void of any pedestrians. The only figures present were men in suits standing as security by the entrance, their presence marked by guns strapped visibly to their knees in sleek holsters. The atmosphere was tense, the kind that made anyone think twice before approaching.Alex’s gaze drifted across the narrow one-way street that the building overlooked. Parked in a neat row, he noticed three distinct reporter vans.“TNT…”“NTA…”“CCC…”He muttered the names written boldly on the vehicles under his breath, a quiet smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was clear. The press had gathered inside the M. Famiglia building, likely to interview Michael. His instincts told him the game was about
As Luca rose to his feet and said these words, Michael’s eyes blinked rapidly, his face betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal. He stammered, his voice faltering before he finally managed to speak.“uh, um, um, we won’t be tolerating questions from a non-reporter.”Luca smirked at the remarks. What did he mean by "non-reporter?" Pointing to the sticker on his chest, Luca replied, his voice steady and laced with sarcasm, “Mr. Michael Famiglia, perhaps you’re not looking at me very clearly. I’m a reporter for Early Birds News, and I’m going to be asking you some questions.”A hush fell over the room. None of the other reporters said a word or raised their hands for questions. The tension was palpable as every eye turned toward Luca, waiting to see what he would ask.Michael’s secretary, seeing the situation slipping out of control, quickly stood up. His expression hardened as he tried to take charge, knowing the gravity of what Luca might reveal. “I will be answering the qu
“What?” Lord Famiglia exclaimed at the dining table. He was eating an apple with a table knife and sipping his wine to wash it down when he heard the news.“What?” he screamed again. In his sixties, he was clearly preparing to retire from the drama surrounding his business.To him, the mafia business was a life-threatening game, and he had planned to hand over the reins to his son soon. But now? “Luca did this?” he asked the news bearer—a man who had walked into the dining room to deliver the shocking update about the conference.“Bring my son to me!” he ordered, flinging the apple in his hand away, dropping the knife onto the table.His blood boiled inside his veins. He was furious. To mess with his son was to mess with him, and he wouldn’t tolerate it. Everyone knew how dangerous Lord Famiglia was, which was why, after conquering the entire mafia scene in Italy, no one dared challenge his authority.He was the poison no one wanted to swallow, and now this fool Luca dared to dig his