I was sent to capture the CIA's most wanted fugitive.
But things took a tragic turn,
My entire team was murdered before my eyes, and I was kidnapped by said fugitive.
It seemed like my government had forgotten me and I became a puppet for the fugi...
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I could’ve stayed longer and teased her, watched her squirm beneath my gaze. There’s something intoxicating about seeing her get all red and flustered, so completely out of control. It almost makes me laugh.
Laugh. I can’t even remember the last time I genuinely laughed at something. Sure, I laugh at people’s misery and pain—who wouldn’t? But it’s not because I find it funny. It’s just another reminder that I’m the half-psychopath they all know I am.
By now, she must be pacing the room, driving herself mad with frustration, but still well-fed. Stefano seems to be growing on her, and I hate it. He brings her food, clothes—I should be the one doing that. He’s there to keep her company, and it makes my blood boil. I should be her only companion. Her world should revolve around me, and no one else.
The thought of strangling Stefano in his sleep crosses my mind more than it should. His pulse slipping between my fingers, his life ebbing away. But I hold back—not because I can’t, but because I need to prove a point. Stefano stays alive because I want him to live in the shadow of his own inadequacy. No matter how hard he trains, no matter how many times he tries, he will never be able to kill me. He will spend the rest of his miserable existence watching me rule, taking everything I want—and he won’t be able to lift a finger to stop it.
But heavy is the head that wears the crown, right?
Enrico shadows me like a second skin as I make my way to one of my many estates, an enormous prison reserved for my father—or should I say fathers. Brothers played by one woman, my mother Helena Ricci—now Hidalgo, bearing the family name I sometimes wish I could strip her off.
I'm here because despite the place being open, Catalino and Alexander Hidalgo the second are not allowed to move around of their own will.
Luckily for them—not for me, they survived the bombing. The aim of the bombing was to kill everyone, wipe out the old blood and start a fresh and new Dominion, but my immediate family members refused to die, including my unborn niece at the time, whom I had no idea about until she was born after her mother's survival.
I stride into the vast mansion, my boots echoing against the marble floor. The air is thick with tension, my men silently spreading throughout the property, their presence a shadow creeping into every corner. There’s no need for formalities here. My entrance doesn’t require an introduction.
Catalino Hidalgo emerges from the shadows of the grand staircase, his footsteps slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment before this confrontation. His slicked-back hair catches the light of the chandeliers, casting a gleam of calculated menace. Without a word, he pulls out a chair and sits across from me, our eyes locking in a silent war of dominance. His lips curl into a mocking smirk, one I’ve seen far too often.
He is my brother’s father. Alexander has forbidden him from coming near his wife, his kids, from infecting his new life. But Catalino doesn’t care. My brother has traded this world of power and blood for a quieter one, one filled with hockey games and smiling children. He calls it peace. I call it mediocrity.
