Book two of 'The Vengeance Duology'
Five years ago, the lads and I made the biggest mistake of our lives-a reckless decision that shattered everything.
We destroyed what mattered most, but my deepest regret is how much I hurt her.
Every moment of pa...
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In life, we often weave intricate fantasies, constructing illusions that are as convincing as they are deceptive. These fantasies paint pictures so vivid that even the sharpest minds might find themselves tempted to believe in them. It's easy to get lost in the act, to mistake the facade for the truth.
But every fantasy, no matter how finely spun, must eventually unravel, revealing the stark reality beneath. Behind every illusion lies a truth—hidden, uncomfortable, and rarely known by others. It's the truth that lingers when the mask cracks, the reality that emerges when the glittering façade falls away.
And yet, this unveiling leads to assumptions, guesses shaped by the half-told stories people spin, to themselves and to others. Every action has a reason, though some choose to bury their motives deep, while others wear them openly, daring the world to see through the cracks.
The fantasy may comfort us, but it's the truth that grounds us, that forces us to confront the reality we so often seek to escape.
The face I present to the paparazzi is nothing more than an elaborate charade. They think they know me, but they're just clinging to shadows on the wall, believing every word, every image, every illusion I craft.
Five years ago, the boys and I made the biggest mistake of our lives—a reckless choice that tore everything apart. I regret hurting her most of all, regret every moment that caused her pain. I wish we had done things differently, with less suffering, less destruction left in our wake. But sometimes, things need to be done.
She died thinking we didn't love her, believing she had no family, and that loss has left a wound that nothing can ever heal.
"Come on, man," Theo nudges my legs with his foot. "We've got a fitting to get to."
I roll my eyes. The last thing I want to do is attend this fucking award show, but being nominated leaves me no real way out of it. Reluctantly, I push myself off the couch. "Estelle, we're leaving!" I shout toward the bedroom.
"Jesus, okay, I'm coming!" she calls back, grabbing her bag. As she steps out, she gives the place a once-over. "For men with so much money, Alessio, I expected better decor," she teases.
I roll my eyes again. The lads and I only decided to move to New York last month. We've been running a chain of clubs and restaurants here, and while we can oversee our mafia operations from New York, managing businesses here from France and Italy was a nightmare.
"Guys, come on, we're late!" Nicco yells from the doorway.
"Fuck me, we're coming!" I shout back, grabbing my jacket and following everyone out the door.
Downstairs, we pile into a taxi. "Maison Valens, 5678 Corporate Plaza," I tell the driver.
As the taxi pulls away, Theo turns to Estelle. "So, what are you wearing for the awards?"
