2026-04-30 08:50:19
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SUSPICIOUS.
Andrew didn't suspect a thing.He grabbed a few soldiers and walked out to the waiting area. Lesner was already there, standing with some of his men. Dressed casual—white t‑shirt, black trousers, sneakers. Looked almost peaceful. Nothing like the monster from the wedding.Andrew stopped a few feet away."What are you doing in my house?"Lesner smiled. Friendly. Too friendly."Came to visit you. Brought a gift. Also, my weekly fee. It's another week, after all."Andrew frowned. He didn't like this. Not one bit."You don't have to come to my house to pay. There's a system. Direct to the cartel accountant. You know that."Lesner nodded. Still smiling.Andrew pressed. "And how did you know I was back? I didn't tell anyone I was arriving today."Lesner's smile flickered. Just for a second. Then he recovered."I was on my way to the airport. Picking someone up. Saw your convoy. The whole Chappatti army. Hard to miss." He chuckled. "You're not exactly subtle."Andrew stared at him. Trying to
THE NEW PHASE OF RED
Within a week, Andrew Chappatti owned Boston.Not literally. But close enough. His name was everywhere. Bars, back alleys, police stations, even the mayor's office. People didn't just respect him. They feared him. The kind of fear that makes grown men lower their eyes and cross the street.Lesner had paid his first weekly due. On time. No excuses. He was still moving drugs, still running his empire, but now every dollar came with a cut to the Chappatti Cartel. A reminder of who really held the leash.But the cartel gave Andrew more than muscle. It gave him reach. Government connections. Military ties. Business favors. He didn't just run a crime syndicate—he ran the city. Like a mayor. Like a king.And right now, that king was lying on a beach with his queen.---Maldives.Andrew had booked an entire private island. Just him and Emilia. No guards. No soldiers. No even Klaus breathing down his neck.The water was so blue it looked fake. White sand squeaked under their feet. A three‑bedr
REFLECTION
The red Ferrari pulled through the gates, roof down, wind cutting through the car. Andrew drove with a calm that didn't match the power of the engine. Behind him, a long line of black SUVs followed like faithful wolves.Emilia sat beside him, her white dress blowing, her hair a mess. She didn't fix it. She just stared at the mansion growing larger in front of them.It was huge. Older than the Ciaro estate. Stone walls, tall columns, a fountain spraying water into the golden afternoon light.Andrew parked. Killed the engine. The silence felt loud."Where are we?" Emilia asked."One of my father's mansions. I took it over when I became the cartel leader."She turned to look at him. "Cartel leader. Andrew, I don't understand anything right now."He got out, walked around, opened her door. "I know. Let's go inside and I'll explain everything. I promise."She took his hand. He led her up the stone steps.---The front doors opened and Emilia stopped.Gold. Everywhere. Not flashy, but warm.
WILD FIRE
The news hit Boston like a bomb.Within hours, everyone was talking about what happened at the wedding. Lesner—the untouchable, the king of the underworld—had been humiliated at his own altar. And not by a rival boss or a police raid. By a boy. A ghost. No one knew his name. No one had ever seen him before.But they saw him now.Men in red. Thousands of them. Guns hidden under priest robes. An army that appeared from nowhere. And at the center of it all, a young man in a crimson suit who walked like he owned the world.People whispered in bars. They argued in streets. They made calls in the dark. Who was he? Where did he come from? And how did he break Lesner so easily?No one had answers. But everyone felt the shift. The balance of power in Boston had just been shattered.---Inside the Ciaro mansion, no one spoke.Thirty minutes had passed since they returned from the church. Thirty minutes of dead silence. Mrs. Ciaro sat in her chair, a cold cup of tea forgotten in her hands. Her d
THE CARTEL'S PLOT(WEDDING DAY)
It was exactly three days since Lesner had set the date, and the wedding was holding in the biggest church in Boston.Mrs. Ciaro had poured everything into this wedding. Money, connections, favors—she didn't hold back. In her mind, she was finally securing the family's future. Her daughter was marrying the most powerful man in the city. Lesner would protect them, provide for them, make them untouchable. Never mind that she had broken her dead husband's word. Never mind that Emilia was already married to Andrew. In Mrs. Ciaro's world, survival mattered more than promises.She sat in the front pew, dressed in an expensive purple gown, smiling like she had won a war. Her daughters sat beside her—Stacy, Sophia, Lily. They wore matching dresses and fake smiles. Inside, they were still burning with jealousy. Lesner had walked past them like they were furniture. He had chosen Emilia, the quiet one, the favorite, the sister who never had to try. But they weren't about to show that bitterness
CHAPTER 7
The door swung open and Andrew stepped inside like he owned the place.The room went dead silent. Stacy's jaw dropped, Sophia blinked like she was seeing a ghost, and Lily's eyes went so wide they looked like they might pop out. Mrs. Ciaro froze with her tea cup halfway to her lips. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.Andrew stood there without a single scratch on him, no blood, no fear—just that calm, confident look that made no sense at all.Then Emilia moved. She didn't walk, she ran straight into his chest and wrapped her arms around him so tight he could feel her shaking. "You're alive," she whispered, and for a moment Andrew just held her, letting the warmth of her body tell him this was real."You're alive," she said again, louder this time."I'm alive," he replied.Mrs. Ciaro broke the moment first. "How did you escape?" she demanded, slamming her tea cup down. "Did Lesner let you go? Are you hurt?" Stacy and Sophia piled on with their own questions, their voices sharp and suspicio
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