Chapter 1
To my dear readers:
Welcome to my novel. A story unlike the ones you’re used to read. It doesn’t belong to cities made of fairy tales, nor to love wrapped in silk. What you are about to read is not a love story. But an obsession laced with silence, violence, and blood. This world is dark, twisted, heavy with psychological tension and choices that don't care for what's right.
It contains bold scenes, bloody moments, and dialogue that may not suit all tastes. This is a tale of power, dominance, and love. It’s up to you now
To step forward, or walk away.
Because what lies ahead in the coming pages is neither kind nor innocent.
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The private jet landed smoothly, as if it knew that the man inside didn’t care for noise.
Or maybe who knows the pilot now had a sharp blade pressed against his throat at least this is not a normal jet.
As soon as the doors opened, cold air poured in, carrying with it the scent of Spanish soil… and memories that never died.
And then… he stepped out.
Gabriel de la Cruz.
A name never spoken in Madrid without being followed by silence.
The man who rose from the heart of the shadows to rule them.
His footsteps on the runway were steady, heavydeclaring his return to a world he had left by choice.
His black suit was tailored to suit the bodies of enemies. His blonde hair slicked back, and his steel-gray eyes glinted beneath the airport lights reflecting every sin without shame.
His beauty isn't ordinary…
He is handsomeas fuck.
As if you were looking at the blade of a dagger finely crafted, undeniably alluring… but meant to kill.
He stopped beside the waiting black car. The driver opened the rear door with respectful silence, but Gabriel didn’t move right away.
Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and pulled out a short cigarette.
He lit it slowly, took a deep drag as if the city was unbearable without nicotine.
Then he turned to his bodyguard standing firmly nearby.
His deep, low voice broke the silence:
“Has she arrived?”
He didn’t mention a name.
He didn’t need to.
The guard knew exactly who he meant.
He hesitated for a beat before replying:
“Not yet, sir… Camila hasn’t arrived from London.”
Gabriel cast his gaze into the darkness enveloping the city and muttered under his breath:
“Of course… she’s late. As always.”
He opened the car door and stepped inside. Sat silently, back straight, hands relaxed on his thighs.
A storm made no sound.
From his jacket pocket, he took something small a worn piece of paper, barely distinguishable.
An old photo.
A brief glance. No longer than two seconds.
Then he tucked it away again, as if it were something not even his own eyes deserved to linger on.
No one knew.
No one would ever dare suspect.
To the world, Camila de la Cruz was just a relative. A member of the family. Another blood-stained heir to a noble criminal dynasty.
But to him
She was something nameless.
Something incurable.
The silence broke again with his voice, cold and quiet:
“To my own estate.”
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Two hours later, at the same airport, the wheels of another private jet touched down on the runway. As soon as it stopped, its door opened, and at the top of the stairs appeared a stunning blonde woman. Her steps were slow and deliberate, as if she were granting the ground the honor of feeling the touch of her heels.
Her golden hair shimmered under the airport lights, her blue eyes as cold as a northern winter revealing nothing and allowing no one to come close. Her face was sculpted like an expensive piece of marble, and every feature spoke of unshakable confidence
She descended the stairs with confident steps, as if she were the only one in the place, as if the runway itself had been made to welcome her. She didn’t glance to the right or left, didn’t search for the eyes watching her she knew they were there and she also knew they wouldn’t dare to come close.
With every step, her coldness became more evident, and despite her striking beauty, there was no warmth or welcome in her face. Her small leather handbag dangled gracefully from her hand, and her luxurious coat flowed with the cold night breeze, completing the image of a woman who knew her worth all too well.
When she reached the last step, she paused briefly, lifted her head slightly, as if surveying the scene, then continued walking toward the black car waiting a few meters away. The driver bowed respectfully and said,
“Welcome back, Miss Camila,”
opening the door for her. She didn’t even look at him… entered quietly, closed the door behind her, and the car drove away in silence.She simply carried herself like a true lady of the De la Cruz family.
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The next morning, the De la Cruz mansion rose under Madrid’s golden sunlight, standing proud like a fragment of history itself.
Its black iron gates were wrapped in golden ornaments, and its ancient stone walls spoke of centuries of power and wealth. The tall windows gleamed, and the sprawling gardens were adorned with marble statues and fountains where water danced slowly, as if guarding the estate’s secrets.
Inside, the grand hall was filled with family members, from the eldest down to the youngest grandchildren. The murmur of conversation was low, as if the walls themselves were listening. No one dared to raise their voice or ask the question lingering in everyone’s mind:
Where was the eldest grandson? The future heir to the empire?
They knew he had arrived yesterday, and yet no one dared to ask or even mention his name.
Suddenly, the distant silence was broken by the roar of luxury car engines. Heads turned toward the tall windows, revealing a convoy of black luxury cars gleaming under the sun as they made their way up the mansion’s drive.
They stopped at the main entrance, and the guards opened the doors with strict respect.
Gabriel de la Cruz stepped out.
He stood tall and steady, imposing in presence. He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, and behind his sunglasses his steel-gray eyes were hidden, though the heavy aura that always surrounded him was impossible to conceal. His steps were slow and measured, as if the ground itself yielded to the weight of each one.
Even the air seemed to part for him, and everyone at the entrance lowered their gaze not only out of fear of his wrath, but because of that authority that compelled silence in his presence.
Except her…
The only one who did not bow.
While every head dropped before his presence, she remained standing in place, looking at him with an icy, lethal calm, as if challenging him in silence.
The moment his eyes fell on her, he felt a fierce current surge through his body. His right hand began to tremble not from fear, but from an obsession he knew all too well. He had expected this to happen, knew its symptoms well… This was her effect on him, a dangerous virus that slipped in uninvited and paralyzed his thoughts.
That was why he wore leather gloves to hide from the world the fact that a single glance from his cousin’s eyes could make him tremble.
While Gabriel and Camila’s eyes were locked, as if time itself had frozen between them, a sharp sound like a gunshot cut the invisible thread connecting them.
Thud… thud… thud…
The heavy strike of a cane echoed against the marble floor in a slow rhythm, yet it carried an authority that could not be challenged.
Everyone turned toward the entrance of the grand hall, where Emilio de la Cruz, the grandfather and master of this dark empire, appeared. His steps were slow, but each strike of his cane against the floor was a declaration that no one stood above his word.
Those present rose immediately some out of fear, others out of respect but no eyes dared to linger on him for long.
Gabriel and Camila exchanged one last fleeting glance before stepping forward in measured strides, following him into the hall, where the rest of the family awaited what was to come.
Grandfather Emilio de la Cruz sat on his wide chair at the head of the hall, lifting his cane slightly before striking it against the floor to announce the start of the meeting.
His voice was calm, but his tone carried a weight that made the entire hall fall silent.
“I’ve gathered you here today… because our house is no longer what it used to be. There is treachery among us, betrayal that is hindering our work… work built on blood, and certainly not legal, as you all know.”
His gaze wandered over the faces of the family members, scrutinizing them as if reading beyond their eyes.
“Our shipments are being seized… our deals are falling through… and information is leaking to our enemies as if they were sitting here at the same table.”
Then he stopped at Gabriel, staring at him for a long moment, his look carrying a mix of trust and challenge.
“Since you are the future heir… after your father’s passing, you will be the one to lead the operation to uncover this traitor. I will not let the name of De la Cruz be stained, and you… will not fail.”
Camila sat at the far end of the hall, one leg crossed over the other, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on her lips as she watched the scene, as if she knew more than she was saying.
Emilio didn’t stop at assigning the task he leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Gabriel.
His voice grew deeper, as if he wanted only him to hear, though the hall was utterly silent.
“I trust you… as I trust my steel.”
He raised his cane and struck it against the floor again, adding with a tone full of pride:
“You are true De la Cruz blood… my heir, the extension of my name. No one in this family has the strength and cunning you possess. That is why… the traitor will not escape this time.”
Gabriel was about to leave the hall, his steps steady toward the great door, when Emilio’s voice stopped him before his hand could touch the handle.
“Wait, Gabriel… no one will go far.”
He turned slowly, and the old man continued, pressing on his cane:
“From this moment… everyone will stay in the family mansion until we know who the traitor is. You are free to come and go as you wish, but this house will be our base until this matter is settled.”
Silence filled the room for a moment as family members exchanged uneasy glances. It wasn’t a prison, but it felt like an unspoken siege everyone under one roof meant every move and word would be under watch.
Gabriel cast a quick glance at Camila, finding her sitting in complete ease, as if she had been expecting this decision all along. A small, mocking smile curved her lips, just like always.
Emilio lifted his gaze toward Camila, and his tone suddenly changed it became calmer and warmer than anything the others had heard from him during the entire meeting.
He gave her a faint smile, rare for him, then said:
“Camila… come with me to the office, I want to have a word with you.”
No one in the family dared interrupt this request or even comment on it. Everyone knew that Camila was his favorite among all his granddaughters the only one he called to with a soft voice and spoke to with clear gentleness, as if she held the key to his otherwise cold heart.
Camila rose quietly, her gaze passing over Gabriel for a brief moment then she followed Emilio with confident steps out of the hall, while all eyes trailed after them until they disappeared behind the office door.
Inside Emilio’s office, the atmosphere was entirely different from that of the grand hall.
The walls were covered in dark wood that gleamed under the brass lamps, and shelves of old books surrounded the room like silent walls guarding decades of power and blood.
On the large desk lay scattered files, papers, maps of shipping routes, and coded names.
The grandfather sat in his wide leather chair and motioned for Camila to sit in front of him.
He smiled again that rare smile no one else ever saw and said:
“I know you’re far smarter than everyone thinks… and that’s why I want you to be my eyes within the family.”
She arched a brow lightly, but her eyes remained fixed on him.
“Does Gabriel know about this?”
Emilio let out a short laugh.
“Gabriel has his task… and you have yours. I won’t put all my cards in one person’s hand, even if he is my heir.
I know you’re not just my favorite granddaughter… you’re the family’s weapon our sniper wanted under arrest warrants in more than half the countries in the world.”
Camila’s brow lifted slightly again, but a small smile played on her lips, as if she enjoyed hearing her title from his mouth.
“And yet, Grandfather, you’re the one who kept me alive.”
He nodded slowly, then leaned forward, his voice lowering as if planting in her ear an order that could not be delayed:
“This time, I want you to aim your weapon inward… Someone among us is selling our secrets. I want you to be my eyes and my long reach. There are people who won’t speak in front of Gabriel, but in front of you, they will.”
Camila remained seated for a moment, tapping her fingernails slowly against the armrest of the chair, in the rhythm of a deadly patience that precedes pulling the trigger.
Her eyes never left her grandfather’s face, but within them was a cold glint—the spark of someone who knows exactly how to hunt… and where to place the bullet.
“So, you want me to be the hunter inside a house of hunters.”
Her voice was low, but charged with absolute confidence.
It wasn’t empty arrogance, but the assurance of a woman who had completed missions in cities where even the local mafia didn’t dare to set foot.
Camila smiled that smile which was the last thing her targets saw before their breaths faded away—then picked up the photo from the desk, studying it for a few seconds before setting it back in place.
“I’ll find him, Grandfather… and I’ll make him wish he’d died before betraying us.”
Her tone was calm, but its weight in the room was as heavy as a gunshot.
Emilio knew well that Camila was not merely his favorite granddaughter… she was the family’s bullet that never missed and everyone in the mansion would be reminded of that soon.
Camila stepped out of her grandfather’s office with confident strides, her luxurious coat swaying lightly with each step.
She paused in the long corridor leading to the grand hall, but her eye caught something through the wide glass that overlooked the mansion’s front courtyard.
There, Gabriel was standing near the gates, surrounded by several of the estate’s guards. He was speaking to them with sharp gestures, his expression steady but his tone carrying orders that left no room for argument. One of the guards was jotting down quick notes, while the rest listened intently, as if receiving instructions for an operation that allowed no mistakes.
Then, without so much as a glance toward the mansion, Gabriel walked with measured steps toward his gleaming red Ferrari. He opened the door, slid into the driver’s seat, and without hesitation, sped off down the road, the roar of the engine echoing through the courtyard until it disappeared beyond the heavy iron gates.
Camila kept watching in silence, the corner of her lips curling into the faintest smile, and said
" Let’s see, cousin who will reach the prey first."
Camila
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I hope you enjoyed this chapter and felt its tension and events.
What do you think of the main characters so far?
Gabriel with his imposing presence and mystery… or Camila with her deadly coldness and precision as the family’s sniper?
Share your thoughts with me, and stay tuned for the next chapter soon… the secrets have yet to be revealed, and the game has only just begun.
