ALESSANDRO'S POV

By the time I hopped off the last step, my office door got slammed shut.

The sound rang down the hallways, but there was no sign of anyone, wide awake in the middle of the night and besides that, who'd dare a foot in my office?

I got myself moving, my mind spinning for an answer. A part of me thought maybe it was the wind shutting the door, yet the wide-opened window in the hall told me otherwise, it was a calm peaceful midnight fall with no wind.

My grip tightened around the doorknob, it could be Akila, but she wouldn't make a sound. The woman she was, shifts and sway with shadows, wouldn't make a single noise.

Feeling nervous or anxious never hit me, whoever that person was, once they got in, there was no way of getting out.

In a smooth swing, the door pushed to the side and revealed a male figure, sitting on my desk chair.

His hair was dark, slicked back. Thick eyebrows and high cheekbones and his eyes, his eyes were green.

"Hello, brother."

[V]

"What the fu—" Armando stopped, looking around the room I dragged him into. Not just him, but the whole house.

"Alessandro, can you explain why we are all awake past two in the morning and why are you?" Adriano whined, rubbing his eyes out of sleep.

My hand slammed on the four files laid in front of them. Each file contained a contract, three birth certificates and three court papers. "Read."

At first, they were calm and relaxed, barely conscious of the lack of sleep and the amount of work we woke up to and slept on, then it started.

There was a fifth file, one that was made specially for me with the original papers while the ones they held were copies.

"What does this mean?" Emilion spoke first, his tone firm and demanding, confused and shaken. He exchanged glances around the room, waiting for a response, no one said anything.

They stared at each other, at the papers with wide eyes and empty minds. They all ignored meeting my gaze, except for Dante.

He was the only one staring at me, his face went through shock, confusion and anger, so much anger I felt his rage through mine before he finally said it out loud, "He's not your brother."

Adriano cussed under his breath, Emilion threw the files across the table and stood up. "So that fuck face was playing with us this whole time?" The air didn't circle, no, it stilled in fear, terrified of the truth, of the lies that've been told.

Adriano rose to his feet, laying a hand on Emilion's shoulder but he shoved him off. He sighed in return and looked at me, "There's more?" I thought back to the last file I left in my office, "There's one more, in my office. He got one for each of us."

Armando suddenly turned, facing the other side of the room where only shadows lingered and flickered, along with her. Far away, Akila leaned on a wall, arms crossed over her chest as she listened closely. His hands curled into fists and his lungs filled with oxygens, "you knew." He breathed out, glaring unblinkingly at Akila while she stayed quiet in her darkness, never uttering a word to confirm or deny his accusations which were enough for an answer.

Marcello mentioned it, "I didn't get our mafia princess a copy, she doesn't need it anyways." He blurted out with a wink before jumping out of the window, disappearing into the void.

"She knew," Armando screamed, pointing one arm and one finger at her. Akila pushed herself off the wall, walking towards us in the light, her eyes fixed bare on Armando, so fixed it might snap him in half.

Emilion wrapped an arm around Armando, blocking him from taking any moves that would end in his own grave. "Do you want to die tonight?"

He gave Akila a repellent look, gritting his teeth and spat out, "I would rather die than spend one more second in a room with a filth—" pain. Pain and anger. Such dangerous emotions. "Finish it." I cut him off, drawing a sharp threat, his mouth sealed shut and I dared him another letter, another breath because if he wanted death, I would gladly take his soul and burn his body—each one of them—try, just try to insult her.

I tilted my head as the world became blurry by the second and it was only his face I could make up, his spilled thoughts and failed attempt.

His shoulders fell and his muscles surrendered, his body language weakened, slowly taking a step back but it was too late. Akila was standing next to me.

"If you thought about killing me, DeVille," she hissed on his name like an insult, "I've dug you a grave, in every step you'd take so be aware, the voices are whispering and you might not make it out tonight." She whirled on her heels, storming away, blending and fading into the dark as it followed behind her as if it were summoned demons and black mist answering to her skin.

Armando shifted uncomfortably in his place, "I'm sorry." I held his eyes for a brief moment, a moment where I'll have to forgive him at some point, kill my father and deal with my fake brother.

"We will discuss this later." His eyes lowered to the ground and Adriano stepped ahead, "What are you thinking?" So many things. "His death." Vicious and messy, vile and uncivil, animal-like.

"Call Amelia and get something out of her or she's crossed out." I barked orders to Dante and he nodded before rushing out to make the call.

I snapped my neck at Emilion, "You call for the second meeting and the ones who don't show up, consider them dead." Adriano asked for permission to help and I sent him right after Emilion.

The room was shrinking, growing quiet and seizing both of us in the middle. "I don't want to see your face." His head shot up, eyes filled with guilt and regret but there was no chance, no time to apologize so he took himself and vanished out of my sight.

My hands crawled to my hair, closing around it and pulling until it hurts, it hurts until it numbs and it stops, it stops the ache, the pounding.

It was a lot of stress and pressure. From being in another country, in our enemy's territory saving my friends to returning with them and finding out Marcello was never my brother, Marcello was never my half-brother, he was never Enzo's son

A smile of defeat and realization crept upon my lips. He used Marcello. He made a deal with him so he can knock me out of the picture. My own father wanted to erase me from this world and replace me with some toy, one he could control and play with. Someone to fool me, to get close enough and kill me because he was much of a pussy, because he wasn't sure if he would survive such an attack himself, would he come back alive or dead beside his only son, his real son he had with his dead wife, the mother he took away from me.

A piece of me hoped for a reaction, shock perhaps or surprise but I slowly, gradually accepted it, relieved in some ways and murderous for the days they gave me, the couple days we all suffered.

The only thing I wanted at that moment was to talk, listen to her first, ask and learn her side. From the very beginning, it was obvious something was up, something wasn't right and she knew about it. She knew and made sure I knew that and then she left me to figure it out on my own.

Unlike the idiot who almost got himself killed twice that night, I didn't hate it. No matter how far and wild it was, I would have never just taken or received information from Akila, whispering them in my ears while I've done nothing to earn them.

Knowledge. Knowledge and screams were seductive, powerful for those who held them, and destructive for those who feared them.

The cruelty and dominance it has over a person, a mortal with a buried secret, so deep and hidden, but in our world, nothing stays concealed for long.

Someone was out there, breathing, thinking and plotting on the opposite side. That's how we lived, we fought and awoke every morning and night. Waiting for it, for the strike, for the show performance over and over.

Only a smart and cunning mind could lift that weight with such ease, making and choosing the right and best decisions, whether it was better to fight or step back.

And I knew that it was time to go meet her on the balcony. Something tugged on my nerves, surprised over the part where I knew where she would've been. Not my bedroom, not hers but the balcony she found effortlessly on her first days here.

It was overwhelming, absolutely insane looking back, remembering those times, that life I had after her and the one I had before she broke in and decided to stay for a bit longer.

Throughout my life, probably most of it, I gagged at the mention of love. I would roll my eyes as a kid and shake my head in disbelief as an adult. The only couple I believed in, I genuinely rooted for was Adriano and Lilianna because once I looked into my cousin and listened to the way he talked about her, told me her story feeling each detail as if he was her and she was him. I thought that maybe. Maybe it was out there, running, escaping from the brutal world we lived in and they got lucky to capture it but never, never in a lifetime I would've imagined or even pictured myself in love, in love with the most beautiful and mighty woman I've ever meet, I've ever laid my eyes on and she stared back at me with pride, challenge and glorious.

While she had every right to, nevermore did she see me as a competition, a rival she was to get rid of just the way my father wished, prayed for the lord in the seven skies she couldn't find me, I couldn't find her but in the end, I came onto her and she came onto me.

If you'd told me a year ago I was to fall in love with a woman, completely and irrevocably whipped for her, worship the absolute ground she stepped on wholly, I would have laughed in your face and shot a bullet between your eyes.

And not for one minute, one split second have I imagined someone else, someone more suitable, worthy and perfect the way she was. It wasn't like I'd never been with a woman in any sort of relationship before, but when I was with her, what I felt and wanted with her, the desire and the need, it was nowhere, nothing more powerful to stand in front of us, in front of the number of hours and thoughts I dreamt of her, for any piece of her.

The wind has settled into the walls, leaving space for the moon to rotate and spin alone until the sun awoke from the East.

She was standing there, arms resting on the railing and eyes fixed on the dull sky.

My steps were light on the floor, and although I was sure she could feel my presence through anything, I didn't want to make much noise in case she wanted a moment of silence.

"Stand with me." Her voice shook something inside of me, so soft and gentle, my legs moved with no thought.

Her presence always caused this weight, this heaviness in the air the closer I got to her, the further my arms stretched out, trying to solve and connect the sealed bond. The heavy armour she wore like human skin and it was my challenge to break it without truly shattering it.

Her gaze was fixed ahead, watching and ripping through whatever was out there in the world while mine was on her, her lashes that never dared to blink, to show any sign of tiredness.

A breeze of cold air hit us, blowing her hair backwards and messing the nest on my head.

That's when she finally turned and gradually lifted her eyes to mine. Her lips separated, saying something but her voice silenced, flew with the wind and a smile hid the rest, the beginning of what was gone.

"Do I owe you an apology?" My heart tightened, realizing what she must've thought and felt after Marcello.

Akila knew many things, she did know everything yet she still had problems dealing with these types of things, relationships, communication and love.

She was good with talking about herself, her life and her downfalls because she was proud, proud of who she was and became.

Making this close human contact wasn't easy for her, it wasn't hard either. It was complicated, new and unfamiliar. Too distant and different from what she was used to for decades.

It stung, seeing her slightly unsure of herself, of her moves and decisions. "You don't have to apologize for anything," I whispered, pulling her in my arms.

My chin dug on top of her head and I held her tighter, "Ever."

For the longest of days and years, she was kept in a room, in dirty clothes soaked in her own blood, weak body and ruined skin. He locked her in there for pleasure, for power over a child, a little girl he called a mistake, an insult and walking dead breathing in his house, under his roof where she was left to die, where he abused and tortured her while no one, not a single soul came to the rescue, show any forms of sympathy for a kid, a kid that got punished for not screaming loud enough, not shedding enough tears, not using the rope he left beside her, a mockery, a joke, a challenge to kill herself and make it easier.

When the images formed in my head, I shut them out. I ran far away from them because I couldn't comprehend, wrap it around my brain and wonder how she survived, how she didn't give up and stayed, held on every night and day, laying in her blood, her beaten flesh and made it out alive.

Someone would name it luck, an opportunity the universe gave out but I called her strength, beauty and tenacity.

I called her Akila, love, my peace, my future and my death. "I hate him." She mumbled into my embrace and I stroked a hand down her back for comfort. "I know."

I kissed her hair and breathed in, we didn't have time to be angry, thinking of his death over and over again. Vicent was going down this war, dead or alive, we'll both make sure he was wiped off the earth before the ground he stood on.

My palms cupped her ribs and I sat her up on the railing. I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned onto her, "You know that I love you, more than the stars and oceans, more than life and the entire universe." She slowly nodded, chewing on her bottom lip which drove me insane.

"Now, that's not nice of you." She broke into a laugh and rolled her eyes at me. I pushed back, analyzing her nightgown of black and silver silk. "I like it." she lightly shoved my shoulder and I dramatically stumbled a step back before a hand gripped the back of my neck and drew me on top of her lips.

A low moan escaped my body and I grabbed her harder against me. Her legs spread, hugging my lips as I stood in between her thighs.

She tensed when my hardened dick touched her insides through thin material and I've never wanted to rip her clothes more. Her hands joined around me, guiding me to her neck.

My lips picked on her bronze skin and sucked above her breasts, trailing behind bite marks of red and purple and blue.

I rubbed her nipples with my fingers, adding more pressure and flickering them with each touch. I found the buttons of her top and ripped them open, giving me more access to her chest. My mouth travelled lower where her breast hardened in my hold and her grip closed on my hair. I dragged her skin between my teeth, biting and tasting.

I lowered my head to her stomach, kissing and licking every inch of her until the curve of her breasts, my tongue lingered and licked and sucked up her collar, her ear and her scent. I worked for my other hand inside her clit, digging my fingers and pushing myself in exactly where her scream broke loud, full of pleasure I only gave her, I only touched and tasted her wet pussy.

Something in me clicked, fastened my breaths and pained my muscles, asking for more, begging for her shorts off so I can go inside her, rub myself on her front and back, trace my marks all over her body so that her skin will change colour and her eyes will only see bliss and lust.

She pushed a hand on my chest, breaking every idea I had. "I'll fall." she warned me with a devilish smile, knowing I could lose myself in her and lay her bare on the railing, "I'll fall with you."

Her eyebrows rose higher, frowning at me, "So you wouldn't catch me?" I blinked away the tinge in my eyes and inhaled, "I would catch you," I pulled her closer, "fall with you, stand with you, kill and die with you.

"I would do anything and everything if you just ask me to, in life and death, I will always be with you, Akila. I will belong with you in every world and every universe, every story and sequel, every moon and star."

Her eyes drifted off and landed somewhere, "Let's get out of here." And before I could protest, she took my hand in hers and ran us out of the balcony.

It was past four in the morning, and the sun slowly started shimmering through the dark clouds and chased away the night. I didn't know where she was taking us but I followed anyways, anywhere she went.

Our engines roared down the empty streets. She didn't stop, we kept driving, sometimes she passed me, slowed down and I passed her.

After what seemed like thirty minutes, her car took a sharp turn and parked at the side of the road. I snatched the keys out of the ignition and got out of my car.

I watched her walk into the woods, her body disappeared within the long trees. My legs moved, hustling after her. She would fade out of my sight for a few seconds when the long black coat she put on before we left, flew and swung with her steps.

We crawled through the forest until her lead rounded off in front of a beach, one that I didn't know existed, no one knew existed.

Akila didn't just know secrets and truths, she knew places, areas and locations around the globe, my own country and land that not one person heard of.

Akila's castle was situated right outside Sicily, somewhere on top of a hill, surrounded by water and greens. It wasn't a small building, a great mansion, no, it was a fortress built piece by piece, brick by brick.

And despite its huge size, she still managed to hide it for four years. Those years would've been an eternity if she didn't show me herself, take me there for a little visit, a couple of days away from that one time she blew up my ball and I almost died with a bomb on my chest.

She stopped at the end of the shore, her feet sunk deep into the sand as the saltwater never gathered the courage to touch her.

I cleared my throat, carefully standing next to her until there was nothing left, just her and the open ocean. "His name is Marcello Benvetti."

For some reason, it sounded familiar. "I met him, just a couple weeks before you." she didn't look at me as she spoke, "I caught him sneaking around so I offered him a small visit. He knew who I was, whose daughter and granddaughter I used to be.

"From there, it was easy to connect the dots and ruin Enzo's plan he'd been plotting for years. I tilted my head, thinking like my father, it didn't make sense. Marcello was an experiment, one Enzo would use to be king and himself as an emissary so he could make the decisions and rule instead of Marcello.

Nothing made sense. If that was their plan, to destroy me and take over as a king who does the speeches and an emissary who actually led behind closed doors, how could Marcello tell me about it and betray Enzo?

And then it clicked. "He wants something back."

"Something much more valuable, I can promise you that, brother." the fucking odds.

Akila and I turned around, monitoring his every movement. "Benvetti." Akila slags first, facing him with careful eyes. I repositioned myself and looked for any weapon on him. "Lorenzo." he bowed and winked at her once he straightened back. He delicately dragged his stare away from her, leisurely setting it on me with a greedy grin across his face.

He brushed back his jacket, revealing the set of pistols strapped around his hips, "Nice toys."

He chuckled, "They work lovely too." Akila's jaw muscles flexed, her rage suffocating under her skin, ready to unleash.

"Don't worry, brother, I will make this quick." I wanted to choke him on each letter he said brother, tear apart his tongue and feed it to whatever creatures swam in the water.

"You said I want something back, I want two." I kept my reaction neutral, he was not getting that satisfaction out of Marc out of either of us.

"Alright, alright," my patience was running low, running and spinning for a place to defend. "I want power, peace after your little war. Tell your men to turn the other way when they see me walking around. A house, so simple and cute where no one can find or reach me." He wanted again and I held onto all sanity left in me.

"And lastly," his arm folded in his jacket, he loaded one of his pistols and whispered loud enough, "I want her."

My vision got blurry, focused, blurry and focused as he went on. "She'll survive the war, you can have her tik then but once that's over, she's mine."

Anger and fury wouldn't be the right words to describe what I felt, the inner eruption my veins couldn't tame, the fire burning my blood into ruin and blaze, violet and maroon.

In a million years, a billion light years into space and galaxies, I wouldn't let him take her, touch her, even if it would cost my whole mafia and my own life.

But saying that wouldn't have made our position better. Marcello knew things, he'd been around long enough to collect information and God knew what else he must've possessed from Enzo.

Marcello didn't have enough capacity or force to scare us—no one did—but he was good with words and rejecting his offer would've put us into more shit with the Russians, the Romanians and the whole world.

At that point, I didn't know who were my allies and who were my enemies. Akila's side of the family was Mexican, my grandparents and father stood with them, with my enemies, our once-shared enemies.

They couldn't be working with the Romanians, the Russians would never accept any Mexican blood after their aid for Enzo when he led the war years ago.

Akila had plans for them, with one single appearance, she could bend their entire land and wrap it around her one hand, reclaim her rightful crown and become queen. She had every right to sit on her throne, and take back her mafia, what was supposed to be her home and people.

In our laws and courts, she legally owned everything, the ground they stood on, the air they breathed, it all belonged to her.

It was our most noble and eminent law, the first newborn of the king and queen is set to lead, to become the next heir of a mafia, a court and a realm at the current age.

That was our final plan if any of them thought of laying a finger on her, yet it didn't ease my worries. There were a million ways that could happen before Akila announced her real identity and demanded authority over her bloodline.

Which was why I kept another plan, hidden but near. "I guess you don't need me here any longer." I heard his voice again and clenched my fist. "Oh don't miss me so badly, brother, I'll be back soon to claim my prize."

"Step another foot around here and I'll show you how bad it is to walk with no legs." Akila's tone did something to him before he shook it off and stared. She wasn't giving him a clear warning or a threat, she didn't promise him a simple death, nonetheless a miserable life.

He shoved his pistol back in the hollister, "You'll find another surprise on your desk, you're welcome." he said. "I'll see you again," he addressed me and bowed to Akila, "Lorzeno." before vanishing into the fog.

We remained in place, watching for any trap he could have left behind.

"Come on." Akila rushed the opposite way he went when a growl shouted back. "You really thought I didn't know he was following us?" and with the last word rolling off her tongue, the sound of a car exploded and the fire flickered with smoke in the early morning scare.

Her hazel eyes locked with mine for a brief moment, a moment when she broke her eyes away from me, the backup plan I had set spread bigger and GREATER.

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