A few hours earlier.
Inside a large, run-down room, men were busy loading boxes onto their shoulders before carrying them to a truck parked outside the shack. The building was old, almost collapsing, its raw wooden walls barely holding together, and the ground was covered in tall, prickly grass. The air smelled of dust and sweat. Every movement echoed in the silence, making the atmosphere even heavier.
Standing in front of the stacks of boxes, Marco held a notebook in his hands. His eyes followed every single one of the men, carefully noting each crate that left the room. Even in this routine, there was a palpable tension, like one wrong move could make everything explode.
At the back of the room, behind an old unstable desk, Lorenzo was sitting. A cigarette between his fingers, a gun in the other, he watched his men with deadly calm. His black eyes shone with a mix of coldness and control. Every movement was analyzed, judged, ready to punish the slightest mistake.
The atmosphere was electric. Not a single word was spoken. Everyone knew silence was mandatory under the gaze of the boss… Jaguar.
Also known as Lorenzo De Santis.
Suddenly, Lorenzo raised his voice, sharp like a blade:
Lorenzo (angry)
_ Marco, that idiot Fabio? Where the hell is that bastard?_
His voice slammed against the wooden walls, echoing like a threat. Marco, focused on his notebook, turned around, frowning at the sudden outburst.
Marco (shouting)
_ He's outside… watching the guys loading the truck._
Lorenzo didn't answer. His eyes hardened, his cold gaze locking onto the scene. Silence fell again like a guillotine. Marco went back to work, but the tension remained thick in the air.
A vibration suddenly broke the silence.
Lorenzo's phone trembled on the desk.
He placed his gun down, grabbed the phone quickly, and turned on the screen while smoke from his cigarette curled around his face. His eyes widened when he saw it: a video had just been sent to him.
Lorenzo (deep, threatening voice)
_ What the hell is this?_
The video showed a man sitting on Lorenzo's living room couch, his feet resting on the table like he owned the place. A gun in his hands. His face was hidden behind a mask, but danger radiated from every movement.
A chill ran down Lorenzo's spine, but his expression remained frozen. His jaw clenched. His eyes burned.
Lorenzo (furious whisper)
_ Who dares… who the fuck dares step into my house?_
He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back slightly. At that exact moment, his phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
He answered instantly, fingers trembling, fist clenched. The cigarette burned into his skin, but he didn't feel it.
Lorenzo (dark voice)
_ Who is this?_
Voice (hoarse, cold)
_ The same person… did you get my video?_
A dark rage rose inside Lorenzo. He immediately recognized that voice—the man who had been haunting him for years… a ghost without a face.
Lorenzo (enraged, shaking with anger)
_ Son of a bitch… I swear I'll kill you! What the fuck are you doing in my house? What do you want?!_
Voice (cold, cruel)
_ To take it from you… like you took "Her" from me. You don't have the right to be with another woman after what you did to "Her." I know this girl attracts you, Lorenzo… I know sooner or later you'll go crazy for her… even more than you did for "Her." She's too beautiful for you to lie to yourself. And you know what I'll do? I'll take her… right when she becomes essential to you._
Lorenzo's eyes darkened with rage. His blood boiled.
Even if he tried to deny it… the man was right.
Chloé… affected him.
Lorenzo (deadly voice)
_ If you touch her, I'll kill you. I'll hunt you down… even if I have to search the entire world… even underground. And when I find you, you'll end up like the others I've killed… including "Her."_
He hung up abruptly, grabbed his gun, and stormed out.
Marco approached him, concerned.
Marco
_ Man… what's going on? Who were you talking to?_
Lorenzo (cold, dominant)
_ A bastard who's been messing with my life. But I'll deal with him. Finish loading the cargo. I have to go._
Marco
_ But boss—_
Lorenzo (cutting him off)
_ My woman needs me._
Without another word, Lorenzo walked out, heading for his car.
As he reached for the door—
_ JAGUAR…_
He turned—
BANG.
Lorenzo (screaming)
_ AAAAAAH—_
A bullet tore through his shoulder.
Pain exploded through his body.
But his rage… was stronger.
---
End of flashback.
A few hours later – Night.
Chloé had taken a shower and was now in the kitchen, preparing the only thing she really knew how to cook: fried eggs with fries.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo woke up.
Pain still burned in his shoulder.
He got up anyway.
Half-naked. Dangerous. Unstoppable.
He searched for her.
Then he found her.
Standing there… in that tight dress.
Perfect.
Untouchable.
Desired.
His hunger awakened instantly.
He moved behind her.
Wrapped his arms around her.
Pulled her close.
She jumped.
Chloé
_ What the hell is wrong with you?! You scared me!_
Lorenzo (low, dominant)
_ Do I need your permission to touch my wife now?_
Her cheeks flushed.
Her heart raced.
But she didn't back down.
Before she could speak—
He lifted her.
Placed her on the counter.
Pinned her between his arms.
Eyes burning.
Breath heavy.
And then—
He kissed her.
Hard.
Deep.
Possessive.
And she kissed him back.
With the same fire.
The same intensity.
The same danger.
The tension between them exploded.
Desire. Rage. Power.
No one was in control anymore.
To be continued…