mango_latte

When Jasmine’s car collides with Antonio’s, she expects nothing more than an accident report and a headache. But from the moment he lays eyes on her, Antonio is captivated—her beauty, her presence, the quiet fire in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, and love is not something she’s searching for. All she wants is peace, warmth, and a place where she feels safe.

But Antonio is not a man who walks away from what he wants. And from the moment he sees her, he knows—he wants her.

HIS ENDEAVORS

The night air was thick with tension as Antonio stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable. The location was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city—quiet, isolated, the kind of place where no one asked questions.

Konrad was already waiting for him, dressed in black, a gun holstered at his hip. He grinned when he saw Antonio approaching.

"Right on time," Konrad said, tossing a knife between his hands like it was a toy. "Our friend is inside. He wasn't too happy about the invitation."

Antonio didn't react. "Anyone else?"

"Just a few of his men, but we took care of them."

Antonio nodded and stepped inside, his presence alone enough to make the temperature in the room drop.

Tied to a chair in the middle of the dimly lit warehouse was a man in his mid-forties, bruised and bloodied, breathing heavily. His shirt was torn, and sweat dripped down his face.

The moment he saw Antonio, his eyes widened in panic. "Listen, I—"

Antonio held up a hand, silencing him. He took a slow step forward, his polished shoes echoing against the concrete floor.

"Do you know why you're here?" Antonio asked, his voice calm.

The man swallowed hard, nodding frantically. "It was just business—I swear. I didn't mean to—"

"Business?" Antonio repeated, tilting his head slightly. "You stole from me. You lied to me. And now, you expect me to believe it was just business?"

The man's breathing grew more erratic. "I—I can fix it. I can—"

Antonio crouched down, meeting his eyes. "There's no fixing betrayal."

The man whimpered, but before he could say another word, Konrad stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

Antonio glanced at him before shaking his head. "No. This one is mine."

Konrad grinned and stepped back, leaning against the wall to watch.

Antonio straightened and took off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves with slow precision. The man in the chair trembled as Antonio reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, silver blade.

"You made a mistake," Antonio said, voice eerily calm. "And I want to make sure you never forget it."

He didn't blink as he got to work.

Chapter Twelve