Alessandro Giovanni;
The doctor dating my son?
Who would've thought I'd see her in my mansion, fingers entwined with my son's like some lovesick couple.
Yeah, no. Not happening.
Something stinks. And as a seasoned fisherman, I know when the waters are too calm.
So I cast my net wide — and I won't stop until I drag the truth onto dry land.
It didn't take much to demand her presence for two full weeks.
Aaron tried to bargain, claiming he could make it all work out.
I dismissed her the moment she arrived. I needed a private word with my son — man to man.
In the only language he truly understands: threats.
When we came back to the study, he was a different man.
He convinced her — right there and then — to accept my invitation.
She looked confused, caught off guard.
But just like Aaron, she gave in.
They left that day with a promise she'd return.
Just like that, I won.
---
I left the house at 3 AM — the hour the underground awakens.
Time for the king to reclaim his throne.
There's only one place to meet the worst of the worst: the black market, hidden behind a dingy restaurant front in the heart of the city.
I walked in with my men.
The room was massive — large enough to hold five thousand — each section more rotten than the next: drug dealers, hitmen, thugs, fraudsters, pimps… every filth imaginable gathered under one roof.
Eyes turned to me.
Whispers followed.
They all knew it — the devil was back. Crawled out of hell and stepped into the chaos he once built.
Ignoring their stares, I strode to the center of the room.
You could smell the fear as the ring leaders shifted in their seats.
They stood, acknowledging my presence.
I didn't even glance at them.
With my back turned, I spoke.
"I bet you're all thrilled I'm back.
Unfortunately for you, your opinions mean nothing.
My rules haven't changed: do your job and you won't find yourself staring down a barrel.
Now, for the first time ever, I'm opening the floor…
Who has a question?"
Silence.
They looked around, each waiting for someone else to risk their life first.
The fear was thick — delicious.
I pressed again.
"Speak now, or stay in your shadows.
I'm giving you a platform — not as your threat, but as your Don. Your King."
After a few seconds, a hand shot up.
I gave him the nod.
"We heard you went insane," he said boldly. "Locked yourself up to pay for your crimes. So… what's the truth?"
He turned to the crowd.
They nodded in silent agreement.
I laughed.
Loud. Maniacal.
Then stopped just as suddenly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"You're all witnesses now—the mad king is back. And I owe you no explanations!" I thundered, my voice cutting through the room like a blade.
Another hand shot up.
A familiar face from the hitmen ring.
"You can't just stroll in here like everything's normal," he snapped, voice rising. "For all we know, you could be working with the feds. You might even be chipped."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Doubt. Disgust.
Some sneered, others spat. A few laughed nervously.
I stepped forward, gaze locked on him.
"Alessandro Giovanni will never kneel to the feds,"
I said coldly.
"And let's get one thing straight…"
I closed the distance between us.
"I walk in here because I own this place.
I own your gang leader.
I own you.
I am your god in this filthy kingdom.
And now that I've returned… things go back to how they used to be."
His jaw practically hit the floor. Good.
"That'll be all for today,"
I said, brushing the tension from my coat like dust.
"Now, you can either whine like old women or get back to doing what you do best — survive.
Your choice."
The crowd split like the Red Sea as I moved through them, head held high, every step radiating dominance.
To hell with all of them.
---
I returned to the mansion, prepping for a meeting later that evening.
The moment I stepped through the doors, my butler approached.
"Welcome home, boss,"
he said with a small bow.
I gave him a curt nod and moved past him — but he didn't leave.
Something was on his mind.
"Boss, you have a visitor,"
he said, eyes on the ground.
"I don't recall inviting anyone,"
I replied, tone clipped.
"Who is it?"
"It's Miss Camilla Rodrigo… Sir Aaron's girlfriend."
Interesting.
So, Aaron actually convinced her to come.
Time to pay a visit to my favorite therapist.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"By the swimming area,"he said quietly.
Of course.
Playing lovebirds by my poolside, huh?
"Aaron took her there?"I asked, voice turning to ice.
"Yes, boss. But he left afterward to see a friend."
Aaron left her — on her first day here.
Brilliant move, idiot.
"Take these to my room," I ordered, handing off my jacket and bag.
"I'll be right back."
The swimming area was as serene as always, the kind of peace that didn't belong in a place like mine.
By the sunbathing chairs, I spotted a discarded robe.
In the water, a lone figure floated — the doctor.
She looked like she was enjoying herself.
Let's see how long that lasts.
Then she emerged from the pool.
Water gliding off her like she was in a perfume commercial — poised, graceful… tempting.
But this wasn't a vacation.
And she had no idea what kind of house she just walked into.
What. The. Hell, Alessandro?
Did I really just compare the doctor to a supermodel?
Nah. That's giving her way too much credit.
She's not that.
Just a plain Jane, clueless about the storm I'm about to unleash.
She glanced around, eyes darting, clearly searching for her clothes.
"Looking for these?"
I finally broke the silence, my voice sharp.
She froze, startled.
Didn't expect me here, clearly.
Her fists clenched, ready to defend herself.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Alessandro?"
she snapped, her tone brimming with annoyance.
Ah. She forgot.
Let me remind her.
"You seem to be forgetting something," I said, spreading my arms wide. "This is my house. I go wherever I want, whenever I want."
She scoffed, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
"Then give me my clothes. I'll be on my way so you can enjoy your precious kingdom alone."
I stepped closer, the pool just a few steps behind her.
One misstep and she'd be taking another dive.
Tempting.
"I prefer you without the clothes," I said with a smirk. "Shame I didn't get to see those navy-blue panties again."
Her face tightened.
"I want my clothes, now. This is completely inappropriate. I'm dating your son, Mr. Alessandro. I suggest you take a step back."
I tilted my head, unbothered.
"I don't buy that fairy tale. This whole relationship? It's a setup."
She narrowed her eyes, hands firmly on her waist now.
"Oh, so now I'm not good enough? Just like your wife thinks?" she fired back. "Then why invite me here in the first place, huh?"
I moved in.
Too close.
She stepped back—right into the pool.
SPLASH.
"Are you insane?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" she screamed, surfacing, water dripping down her furious face.
"I didn't touch you. You fell all by yourself," I said coolly.
She didn't buy it.
The way her brows furrowed, the disbelief in her eyes—it was obvious.
I walked to the pool's edge and jumped in without hesitation.
"I didn't invite you because I think you're good enough for my son. I have my reasons. Reasons you wouldn't understand—especially when you can't even keep your emotions in check, Doctor," I said, voice calm but cutting.
"You shouldn't be in here with me," she hissed. "Anyone could walk by and get the wrong idea. This is highly inappropriate!"
I swam closer.
She tensed.
"All I hear is what I shouldn't be doing… as if this isn't my house. My pool. My space." I shot her a look. "You're the intruder here."
She flared up, water sloshing with her movements.
"You invited me, remember? I never asked for this! Aaron and I love each other. Don't twist this into some story where I'm the gold digger!"
I stared at her, amused and unimpressed.
This game was just getting started.
"So, you're really dating Aaron?" I asked, my tone flat, unreadable.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning my angle.
"Yes, I am. Is there a problem with that?" Her words were clipped, defensive.
I smirked.
"No. Just doesn't feel real, that's all." I said it boldly, right to her face.
Before she could respond, I stepped closer, closing the space between us.
Our breaths mingled. Her chest pressed lightly against mine. She looked up, clearly unsettled—but not moving away.
I tilted my head.
"You don't even flinch," I murmured, reading her expression. "Interesting."
The moment stretched. Her eyes flickered, unsure.
I leaned in, letting my lips brush hers—not quite a kiss, not yet. A test.
When she didn't pull away, I deepened the contact.
Slow. Calculated.
She stiffened at first, then relaxed just enough to keep me curious.
I kissed her hard, touching her nipples in a slow, sensual manner, one she could not resist. She let out a soft purr as I deepened the kiss more.
She looked breathtaking right now, my hands on her round, curvy ass, my other hand on her perfect breasts. I kept touching and pressing her features.
I was beginning to feel a tingling sensation, something I hadn't felt for a while.
Not with my call girls.
I only felt this way during the early few years with Monica—before she became a gold digger and a whore.
But just as quickly, I pulled away.
I wasn't here for pleasure—I was here for proof.
Proof that she didn't belong to him the way she claimed.
The air between us was charged.
Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came.
I stared down at her, jaw tight, voice low.
"If this relationship with Aaron is so real, why aren't you fighting me off right now?" I whispered, in a deep, demanding tone.
Her face flushed—anger, confusion, maybe guilt. I didn't care which.
I'd gotten the answer to my doubts.
I turned from her and climbed out of the pool, grabbing the nearest towel—hers.
Drying myself off slowly, deliberately.
She followed suit in silence, her expression guarded.
She slipped into the clothes I had hidden earlier, now folded neatly on the chair. The hat still lay untouched.
She opened her mouth, maybe to speak, maybe to confess—but her phone rang before she could.
Aaron.
The name lit up on the screen like a warning sign.
Without thinking, she dove straight back into the water, submerging herself before he could arrive.
He stepped out seconds later, his expression casual, unaware.
"Dad? What are you doing out here?"
"Just enjoying the sun. Why, expecting someone else?" I replied coolly.
He brushed a hand through his hair.
"I thought Camila might be here. She loves the pool. She barely knows anywhere here. I worry for her." Concern laced his voice.
I shrugged.
"Doesn't look like she is. You should check inside."
I leaned casually over the edge of the pool, right above where she clung to the railing beneath the surface.
Her fingers clutched the side, barely visible.
I playfully kicked at the water—just enough to nudge her grip loose.
She let go.
Good.
"Tell me, son," I said, redirecting Aaron's attention. "What do you love about her?"
He hesitated, clearly torn.
I offered him a charming smile.
"Come on. A little father-son talk. She's probably inside, maybe resting. Let's talk, just us."
He finally gave in with a sigh.
"Alright, Dad."
Perfect.
Meanwhile, Camila would remain where she was—hidden, silent, and hopefully reflecting on her little lie.
This was her consequence.
For playing with fire…
And pretending it was love.