For The Plot

And That's When I Knew...

Okay. Boom.

Here I am, plopped down on the softest, whitest leather couch you could ever imagine—like, the kind of couch that screams, "I'm way too boujee for this life." It's buttery smooth, plush, and honestly probably costs more than my entire rent for the year.

I've been here before. Like, a lot. This isn't my first rodeo in Sergio's fancy-ass penthouse.

I've chilled on this couch wrapped up in blankets, binge-watched movies with him, inhaled way too much pizza right here. I've basically made myself way too comfortable in this place that, right now? Not comfortable at all.

Because right now?

I'm sitting between two dudes who look like Sergio's long-lost identical twins—except, nope, not identical. More like a remix version of him. One's rocking perfectly tousled bangs like he just stepped off the cover of a shampoo commercial. The other's got this slick modern mullet—a mullet so fire you have to stop and ask yourself, "Wait, is this even a mullet?" Yes, yes it is. And somehow? It's actually working.

And then there's Sergio.

My boyfriend.

The man who is currently pointing a freaking gun at my head.

Not just any gun either. Matte black, shiny, deadly serious-looking—the James Bond of pistols. He's holding it steady, calm as if this is just your typical Tuesday morning. His piercing blue eyes? Still way too pretty for this kind of scene, but now they're locked on me like I'm the plot twist he's deciding if he wants to erase.

This guy used to look at me like I was the whole world.

Now?

I'm the whole problem.

So, how did I go from cuddles on this same couch to a freaking gun pointed at my face?

Easy.

I found out the truth.

Turns out Sergio isn't just some handsome dude with a killer smile—he's the Don. The head honcho of his crime family. The kind of man people whisper about with equal parts fear and respect. The kind whose word is law, and whose enemies... don't really get to tell their side of the story.

And those two brothers sitting next to me?

Yeah. They're his brothers. And trust me, you do not want to be on their bad side.

So here I am, stuck between two stylish, scary dudes who could star in a high-budget Netflix crime drama, while my boyfriend's casually holding a gun to my head like it's part of our daily routine.

Nope. Not comfortable.

Let's rewind a bit.

Because this whole mess?

Started two months ago.