Vicious 16 (Patreon)

Author's note: Hello my beautiful people! I had writer's block with this story the last few weeks. That's the reason why I hadn't posted. However, don't worry! I've managed to figure it out and I know what I want to write in the next few chapters. I hope you enjoy tonight chapter! let me know what you think! 

let me remind you that the google forms is still opened! Please leave your request for this weeks one shot!

word count: 3.0K

A few days had passed since Harry's raid on Augusto's house, and his recovery was going well. The doctor had restitched his wounds after his encounter with Y/N, and the healing was progressing smoothly. Giana was also adjusting to her new life. At first, it felt strange for her—she had spent so long living by strict schedules and orders that the freedom she now had seemed unfamiliar, almost unsettling. But slowly, she was beginning to settle in.

“Right. Is there anything else due?” Harry asked, the night was thick with tension as Harry sat behind his large mahogany desk, the glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. His trusted men, Lex and Charlie, stood nearby, their faces hard with the seriousness of the situation. A few other men lingered in the room, their eyes darting toward the door every so often, their hands hovering close to their weapons. The air was heavy, almost suffocating, but Harry remained calm, his sharp gaze fixed on the documents spread before him.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence, and one of his guards entered, cradling a small, wrapped box in his hands. The guard's face was pale, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He approached Harry’s desk cautiously, holding the box out as if it were a live bomb.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the package. There was no mistaking it—this was from Augusto. The wrapping was impeccable, a deep red ribbon tied into a neat bow, but the intent behind it was anything but innocent.

“Boss, this just arrived,” the guard said, his voice trembling slightly.

Harry nodded, his expression unreadable as he reached for the box. He could feel the eyes of his men on him, their tension palpable. Augusto’s reach was long, and his threats were never empty. Harry had known this day would come, the day when Augusto would retaliate for the audacious act of taking Gina.

As Harry began to untie the ribbon, Lex stepped forward, his voice laced with concern. “You know what this is. He’s trying to rattle you.”

“I know,” Harry replied calmly, continuing to unwrap the package with deliberate care. He could feel the weight of the moment, the significance of whatever lay inside. This wasn’t just a message—it was a declaration.

When he lifted the lid, his breath caught in his throat. Inside, on a bed of black velvet, lay a delicate necklace. It was simple, yet Harry recognized it immediately. He had seen Y/N wear it once, years ago, when they had first been introduced. They had both been much younger then, their worlds not yet as intertwined in the web of power and danger that now surrounded them. The memory of her wearing it, her youthful smile, flashed through his mind like a ghost from a past that felt almost unreachable.

But it wasn’t just the necklace. Next to it was a photograph, slightly crumpled, as if it had been handled roughly. Harry’s heart sank as he stared at the image—Y/N, asleep in her bed, her face peaceful, unaware of the eyes that had been on her. He recognized the room immediately; it was taken inside his house, and the pajamas she wore were the same ones she had worn just a few nights ago. The intimacy of the photo, the sheer audacity of taking it, filled him with a cold, seething rage.

Charlie was the first to speak, his voice low and furious. “That sick bastard… They’ve been inside the house.”

Lex’s expression darkened as he leaned in, studying the photo over Harry’s shoulder. “He knows where to hit you.”

Harry’s grip tightened on the box, his knuckles white with the effort to keep his anger in check. Augusto wasn’t just sending a threat; he was proving that he could reach the one person Harry cared about most. The message couldn’t be clearer: Augusto knew Y/N was Harry’s weakness, and he was willing to exploit it without mercy.

But Harry wasn’t about to let Augusto see him falter. He forced himself to breathe, to think clearly. Reacting out of anger would play right into Augusto’s hands.

“He’s trying to bait me,” Harry said, his voice steely despite the storm raging inside him. “But I’m not taking it.”

Lex nodded, his eyes hard. “What’s the plan, then?”

Harry closed the box with a deliberate motion, setting it aside as he rose from his chair. His men straightened, ready for his orders. The rage in his chest had cooled into something more dangerous—determination.

“We fortify the house,” Harry ordered, his voice commanding. “Double the guards, and I want eyes on every corner. Y/N isn’t to be left alone for a second.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on the closed box for a moment longer, the weight of its contents pressing heavily on his mind. He forced himself to exhale slowly, pushing down the fury that threatened to consume him. As his men prepared to leave, he raised a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

“One more thing,” he said, his voice cold and measured. The tension in the room thickened as they turned back to face him. “This doesn’t get back to Y/N. Not a word of it.”

Lex exchanged a concerned glance with Charlie, both of them understanding the gravity of the situation. Harry wasn’t one to hide things from Y/N—at least, not when it came to her safety. But the look in his eyes made it clear that this time was different.

“Boss, are you sure?” Lex asked carefully, his voice tinged with hesitation. “She has a right to know. If Augusto’s getting this close—”

“I said no,” Harry cut in, his tone sharp. His gaze was hard, leaving no room for argument. “She’s got enough on her mind with the wedding coming up. The last thing she needs is more to worry about.”

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, clearly uneasy with the decision. “But if she finds out on her own—”

“She won’t,” Harry interrupted, his voice firm. “And she won’t have to. We’re handling this. Keep it quiet, and make sure nothing slips through the cracks.”

His men nodded, though their expressions betrayed their concern. They knew Harry was right—Y/N didn’t need to be burdened with this, not now. But they could also see the toll it was taking on him. Harry might be acting as if he wasn’t worried, but the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, told a different story.

As they turned to leave, Harry’s voice stopped them once more. “And one more thing—keep your distance from her. If she asks why, tell her it’s just business. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

There was a brief pause before Lex and Charlie nodded in understanding. They could see that this wasn’t just about protecting Y/N—it was about keeping Harry from unraveling. The coldness in his voice, the distance in his eyes, were signs that he was already slipping into a darker place, one where his emotions were tightly locked away.

“Understood, Boss,” Lex said quietly, before leading the others out of the room.

Once the door closed, the silence in the office was almost suffocating. Harry stood still for a moment, staring at the spot where the box had been. He clenched his fists, trying to push away the images of Y/N’s peaceful face in that photo, the necklace she once wore with such innocent pride. The thought of Augusto’s hands being anywhere near her sent a shiver down his spine, one that he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried.

The living room of the manor was filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla, a comforting contrast to the tension that had settled over the house in recent days. Y/N sat on the plush sofa, her gaze fixed on the assortment of cakes laid out before her on the coffee table. Beside her, Gina sat with a soft smile, her presence a rare source of calm amidst the whirlwind of wedding preparations.

The wedding was fast approaching, and while there was still so much to figure out, today’s task was a welcome distraction. Y/N had been looking forward to this—taste testing the cakes, deciding on the perfect one to serve on her big day. It was a small moment of normalcy, one that allowed her to focus on the joy that the wedding should bring, rather than the worries that loomed over her.

“So,” Gina said, picking up a fork and eyeing the first slice of cake with playful seriousness. “Are we starting with the classic vanilla or the chocolate hazelnut?”

Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the sight of her best friend’s playful demeanor. Gina had been through so much, yet she was here, helping Y/N prepare for one of the most important days of her life. It was a reminder of why they had done what they did—why Harry had taken such risks to save her.

“Let’s start with the vanilla,” Y/N decided, reaching for her fork. “Might as well go traditional first.”

They both took a bite, savoring the delicate flavor. The vanilla was rich and smooth, with just the right amount of sweetness. Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine how it would taste on the wedding day, shared with Harry under the gaze of their families and friends.

“It’s good,” Gina said thoughtfully, “but maybe a bit too plain for you two. You need something with more... character.”

Y/N laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It’s nice, but I want something that stands out.”

They moved on to the next cake, a decadent chocolate hazelnut with layers of ganache and a hint of espresso. Y/N’s eyes lit up as she tasted it, the rich flavors dancing on her tongue.

“Now this,” she said with a grin, “this is something special.”

Gina nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite. “Definitely. It’s bold, but not overpowering. It feels... luxurious.”

As Y/N and Gina continued to debate over the remaining cakes, the warmth of their conversation was briefly interrupted by a glimpse of movement in the hallway. Y/N glanced up just in time to see Harry walking past the living room with Lex, Charlie, and a few of his other men in tow. His expression was stern, focused, the weight of responsibility evident in the way his shoulders carried themselves. But there was something else, something deeper that Y/N had noticed in him recently—a distance, a coldness that hadn’t been there before.

Without thinking, Y/N called out to him. “Harry! Wait a second.”

Harry paused mid-step, turning his head to look at her. His eyes softened slightly when they met hers, but the guarded expression remained. He took a step closer to the doorway, his men halting behind him.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice even, betraying none of the turmoil that Y/N could sense beneath the surface.

Y/N gestured to the table filled with cakes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “We’re trying to pick out the wedding cake, and I could use your opinion. After all, it is your wedding too.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly, and he shook his head. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

Y/N wasn’t ready to let him go that easily. There was something about the way he was pulling away lately that gnawed at her, and she wanted—needed—to bridge that gap, even if just for a moment. She set down her fork and walked over to him, her smile growing softer, more coaxing.

“Please, Harry,” she said, her voice gentle as she looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Just a quick taste. I want to know what you think.”

Harry’s resolve wavered, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement as he looked at her. He tried to hold onto his stern demeanor, but Y/N’s doe eyes were his undoing. He couldn’t help but feel a crack in the icy wall he had built around himself. Despite everything weighing on him, he could never resist her when she looked at him like that.

Gina, watching the exchange from her spot on the sofa, noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Harry’s mouth—a smile he was clearly trying to suppress. She smirked to herself, understanding all too well the effect Y/N had on him.

“Alright,” Harry finally relented, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as he stepped fully into the living room. “But just a quick one.”

Y/N’s face lit up with triumph, and she quickly guided him to the coffee table where the remaining cakes were laid out. Gina moved aside to give him space, a knowing smile still playing on her lips.

“Okay,” Y/N said excitedly, picking up a fork and handing it to him. “We’ve narrowed it down to two—this one is a chocolate hazelnut with a hint of espresso, and the other is a raspberry champagne with vanilla cream. I’m leaning toward the chocolate, but I want to know what you think.”

Harry took the fork, his expression serious as he studied the two slices of cake in front of him. He glanced at Y/N, her eager expression making him feel a warmth that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in days. With a slight shake of his head—more at himself than anything else—he dug into the first slice.

The rich taste of chocolate hazelnut filled his mouth, the flavors perfectly balanced. He chewed thoughtfully, then moved on to the second slice, the tartness of the raspberry mingling with the sweetness of the champagne and vanilla cream. Both were excellent, but one stood out more.

He swallowed, then looked at Y/N, who was watching him with bated breath. “They’re both good, but the chocolate hazelnut is the one,” he said, nodding slightly as he made his decision. “It’s got that something special.”

Y/N beamed, clearly delighted with his choice. “Good”.

Harry couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips at her words, though he quickly tried to mask it by handing the fork back to her. Gina, ever observant, caught the momentary softness in his expression and filed it away with a satisfied smile of her own.

Harry gave her a brief nod, his smile fading back into his more guarded expression. “Glad I could help. But now I really do need to get back to work.”

With one last look at her, Harry turned and headed back toward the hallway, his men falling into step behind him. Y/N watched him go, a mixture of satisfaction and worry swirling in her chest. She had won him over, if only for a moment, but the lingering coldness in his demeanor reminded her that something was off.

Gina, sensing Y/N’s unease, reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’ll get through to him,” she said reassuringly. “He’s just got a lot on his plate right now.”

Y/N nodded, though her heart still ached with the desire to reach him, to break through whatever walls he was building between them. “I know,” she said softly. “I just wish he’d let me in.”

As the sound of Harry’s footsteps faded down the hall, Y/N turned back to the table, her thoughts still with him. The wedding was fast approaching, and while they had just settled on the cake, she knew there was much more that needed to be figured out—not just for the wedding, but for the two of them.

A few days had passed since the cake tasting, and the sense of unease that Y/N couldn’t quite shake had only grown stronger. Harry was distant, more so than usual, and though she tried to focus on the wedding preparations, her thoughts kept drifting back to the coldness she felt from him.

Late one afternoon, Y/N’s phone rang, the name on the screen stopping her in her tracks: Federico. Her father rarely called, and when he did, it was never without an agenda. With a mix of irritation and resignation, she answered.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Is that how you greet your father?” Federico’s voice was smooth, but there was a familiar edge to it that made Y/N’s stomach tighten. “I’ve been thinking, with the wedding approaching, it’s time we discussed the details. I want to make sure everything is in order.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, knowing better than to believe this was about the wedding. “Everything’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”

“Clearly, you don’t,” Federico replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “Meet me at home. There are things we need to discuss. Important things.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. The old estate—a place that had never felt like home, no matter how lavish it was. It was a place of cold memories, of power and control. She hadn’t been there in years, and the thought of going back now filled her with dread. But she knew better than to refuse him.

“Fine,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “I’ll be there.”

Federico didn’t bother with pleasantries before hanging up, leaving Y/N with a hollow feeling in her chest. She knew what this was—a power play. He was reminding her of her place, of the control he still wielded over her life. But she wasn’t the scared little girl she once was. Not anymore.