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
Anastasia had just left Alex’s apartment, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach. She had been trying to reach him all day, but her calls went unanswered. What if something had happened to him? Each ring felt like an eternity, and with every passing moment, her anxiety grew. She was desperate to hear his voice, to know his whereabouts, and to assure herself that he was safe.Suddenly, her phone rang, jolting her from her thoughts. Hope surged as she glanced at the screen, but her heart sank when she saw the name. “Emmanuella?” she muttered, disappointment washing over her.Emmanuella had a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times, and Anastasia couldn't shake the feeling that this call would only add to her stress. The last time they spoke had been before that disastrous gathering when that arrogant jerk embarrassed her and her boyfriend in front of everyone. If this was about another get-together, she was ready to turn it down flat.“Hey!” she answered, forcing a cheerful
Jackson was the type of guy who thrived on violence. Each act of aggression ignited a primal urge within him, a craving that twisted into something darker. The thrill of anticipation made his blood race, and he could feel himself responding, his body betraying him with an undeniable rise. He was electrified by the prospect of dominating someone, and today, that someone was Anastasia.“I will find you, and today, I will have a taste of you.” Jackson sang these words in an awkward melody, the sound bubbling into wicked laughter that echoed through the apartment. His voice filled the silence, a sinister serenade that underscored his twisted intentions.The outline of his hardening member was visible through his trousers, even if no one else was paying attention to it. He strolled around the living room, his footsteps slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment of the hunt.He knew Anastasia was hiding in the bedroom, having locked the door behind her, but the thrill of pretending to
Alex had not moved a muscle. Nevertheless, his eyes darted dangerously at Jackson, who stood before him with a sinister grin. He recognized him instantly—the same man who had tried to rape his girlfriend in the hotel just days ago. This was also the same man her family wanted her to marry by all means. He locked his gaze on Jackson, fully aware that the son of a bitch was a psychopath. He knew he had to think carefully before making a move; any miscalculation could put Anastasia in serious danger, and he didn’t want that.In that moment, Alex felt the energy from his ring surging through him. He knew his strength was heightened; it coursed through his veins, empowering him. But with that power came a warning: if he decided to confront this psycho, the psycho could end up severely injured. Even so, he didn’t care about the consequences of his heightened energy; all he wanted was to save Anastasia from this monster.“I say, fuck off, you!” Jackson yelled again, shoving Anastasia agains
Just as Alex lifted the plank high above his head, poised to strike, Jackson's heart lurched. Paralyzed with fear, he braced himself for the agonizing blow. But then—nothing. His body trembled as he realized the impact never came. Alex had deliberately missed, the plank grazing just inches from Jackson’s vulnerable spot.Alex’s lips curled into a dark smile, his cold eyes glinting as he stood tall, towering over Jackson. “The police are on their way,” Alex announced, his voice calm, almost mocking. He flicked his fingers against Jackson’s forehead, the gesture dismissive, like swatting a fly. Jackson crumpled further, helpless, powerless beneath the weight of Alex's presence.Alex strode toward the living room, his steps echoing ominously in the air. He was in control. He didn’t need to say more; Jackson’s defeat was already etched on the floor beneath him. When Anastasia saw Alex enter the living room, relief flooded her face. She rushed into his arms, clinging to him like a lifeline.
Commissioner Johnson was a man who had never accepted any unlawful money. He prided himself on his integrity and took his responsibilities seriously, never compromising the high standards of his position. Over the years, many had tried to sway him, but none had succeeded. To him, upholding justice was not just a job—it was a duty he carried on his shoulders with unwavering commitment.When the phone rang that afternoon, and Mrs. Nexera’s voice filled the receiver, Johnson wasn’t surprised by her attempt to offer him something under the table. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to influence him with promises of favors or money, and it wouldn’t be the last. Hearing what she proposed made him smirk, just like the others who had tried before her. She was desperate, like many who had crossed his path.“Are you offering me a bribe, Mrs. Nexera?” His voice remained calm, though the hint of amusement in his tone was unmistakable. He knew the type—polite, elegant, trying to disguise co