Chapter 18
Anna's Secret Penthouse. Next Evening. 5:27PM
I swear to god I regret coming back to a penthouse where a tiny 4'10 demon exists.
(Lore Update: She moved in cause her building was in 'construction'. I don't believe her but it is what it is.)
Selene was curled up to my side clinging onto me, drooling all over my shirt while I was working on faking the UN transfers.
(Y'all thought I'd be acquiring the real one? Hell Nahhh. I'm not ready to go to jail trying to fool a Mafia Boss.)
I downloaded the fake file transfers coding a document to make it look real.
Marco wanted an update on the work I'm doing.
(Greedy little Bitch)
So I decided to give him an update on me 'acquiring' the UN world bank system.
Sent to Marco Vercetti.
Few minutes Later...
A text message popped up.
Marco.
Marco suddenly sounded exited but kept it professional.
"That's great Miss Maricella. Rooting for you to get this acquisition. If you need help on anything financially or security just give me a call. Looking forward for the marriage between Valentina and you Miss Maricella."
I let out a slow chuckle. "That's great Mr Vercetti. Thank you for the help offer but I'm fine here by myself. And I am looking forward to the engagement and marriage too Mr Vercetti."
Marco laughed low. "Guess it's goodbyes for now Miss Maricella"
I smiled. "Goodbyes for now Mr Vercetti" cuts the call "You clueless bitch"
Selene who was curled up onto my chest looked up like she was about to combust from my words.
I was still working at my laptop. One hand working and the other patting Selene's tiny, fluffy hair and tiny body.
Selene was now in my neck and behind my back she was texting that group-chat of hers.
I looked over my shoulders to Selene still fighting in the group-chat
I let out a sigh.
"Selene are you fighting in the group-chat again?"
She let out a tiny anger sign. "I gotta claim you as mine. They are trying to bargain."
"Selene—"
"You are my cuddle Mommy. I don't share"
"Go to sleep tiny princess"
I closed my laptop.
Selene was curled up into my neck one hand fighting in the group-chat.
I held one hand patting her back and the other patting her head.
She dropped her phone and let out a tiny whimper.
And then she snuggled and clutched tighter.
Let out a tiny sigh of satisfaction.
And then melted into my presence fully going to sleep.
Anna's Penthouse. Next Day. Private Office. 9:24 AM.
Selene was still curled into my chest.
Face buried deep into my skin.
Tiny fingers gripping my shirt like she'd physically riot if I dared to move.
I let her stay.
One hand stroking her back absentmindedly as I made the call.
The line connected in two rings.
"Good morning, Mr. Vercetti."
A pause.
Then Marco's voice, sharp and eager.
"Ms. Maricella. I was hoping to hear from you."
I smiled faintly, smoothing Selene's hair down with one slow pass of my fingers.
"I have good news... and bad news."
Marco chuckled deep in his chest.
"I'll take the bad first. Rip off the bandage."
I leaned back against the leather chair, gazing at the skyline.
"The business situation here is... evolving. Faster, but messier than expected.
I'll need more time. My return to the States will be delayed—likely over a month.
The engagement schedule will need to be adjusted."
A heavier pause.
I could hear the calculations spinning behind his silence.
Then:
"Patience is a virtue," Marco said calmly.
"Eyes on the prize. I can wait."
Another low chuckle.
"You're worth it."
I tilted my head slightly, watching the way Selene breathed against my heart like a kitten drunk on warmth.
"Good," I said smoothly. "Because the good news, Mr. Vercetti... is far more interesting."
I tapped a silent command on the tablet beside me—
pulling up the fake preliminary dossier.
"Alongside the United Nations banking influence and the old-world blood routes,
we've uncovered something else tied into the asset trees."
A slight shift of breath from Marco's end.
Curious.
I let it hang a second longer before finishing:
"A classified satellite surveillance program.
One designed by private contractors.
Meant to replace and surpass every known government spy network on Earth."
Silence.
I smiled slowly into the empty room.
"The world's next dominant surveillance grid—hidden under the oldest blood money and disguised as banking data."
Another beat.
Marco inhaled sharply.
"Madonna Santa..." he muttered.
"You're telling me... we won't just control money anymore.
We'll control information. Globally."
"Exactly," I said. "Every deal, every move, every betrayal.
Seen in real-time.
Owned by us."
A low, brutal laugh shook down the line.
"This is beyond my wildest expectations, Miss. Maricella.
Money is one thing.
Information is another."
He sounded younger suddenly—eager, almost reverent.
"We will be unstoppable," Marco breathed.
"Unforgettable. Eternal."
"That was the idea," I murmured.
"Get it done," Marco said.
"Whatever you need. Whatever it costs."
I ended the call after a few more pleasantries, letting the phone slip from my fingers onto the desk.
Outside the windows, the city gleamed—
a kingdom still sleeping.
Inside?
Selene's arms squeezed tighter around my ribs.
A tiny purring sound vibrating into my skin.
Anna's Penthouse. Private Office. 10:11 AM.
Selene hadn't moved.
Still completely fused to me, tucked halfway inside my oversized shirt—
so tiny her whole body practically disappeared under the fabric.
I shifted slightly in the chair.
A soft squeak vibrated against my chest.
I sighed under my breath and tilted my chin down.
Inside my shirt?
Selene's face was flushed pink.
Eyes glazed.
Mouth open the slightest bit.
Fully melted against my skin like a drunk kitten who forgot how to exist.
Her fingers twitched against my ribs—tiny, desperate grabs like she was fighting gravity itself just to stay attached to me.
The faint glow of her phone screen caught my eye.
Held crooked in her hand.
Typing wildly.
I adjusted the shirt carefully with one hand, cradling her against me.
With the other, I brushed my fingertips lightly over the top of her head.
Pat, pat, pat.
Tiny whimper into my chest.
I glanced at the phone.
Noticed the app open.
Tiny Demons GC.
Aria. Bella. Jasmine. Selene. Kira
She was going feral in real-time.
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
I'M DEAD I'M DEAD I'M DEADDDD SHE'S PATTING MY HEADDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
I CAN FEEL HER HEARTBEAT I'M GONNA FUCKING COMBUST
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
SHE PUT HER HAND ON MY HEAD LIKE I'M HER TINY PRINCESS PET I'M NEVER ESCAPING THIS I REFUSE I AM BECOMING A NECKLACE
KIRA:
WHERE'S MY TURN?!?!
Bella:
SHE'S GONNA MELT U INTO MILK IF U KEEP PURRING LIKE THAT
Jasmine:
TELL HER TO TIGHTEN HER ARMS AROUND YOU MORE U COWARD
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
I CANT SPEAK I CANT MOVE I'M LITERALLY A STUFFED ANIMAL INSIDE HER SHIRT THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
SHE'S PATTING ME LIKE I'M HER BABY GIRL I'M NEVER LEAVING HER TITTY
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
IF SHE STOPPES PATTING ME I'LL SOB INTO HER BOOB WITH FULL INTENTION
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
I CAN FEEL HER RIBS MOVING I CAN FEEL HER FUCKING brEATH I AM ONE WITH THE TITTY I AM TITTY
Aria:
DEADASS TITTYFIED LMFAOOO
Bella:
GUYS SHE ASCENDED
Jasmine:
PRINCESS SELENE OF THE TITTY REALM
I smothered a faint smile into my sleeve.
Another soft pat against the crown of her head.
She let out a broken little whine into my ribs—
barely more than a warm breath against my skin.
The typing on her phone got even more violent.
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
SHE PATTED ME AGAIN I REPEAT SHE PATTED ME AGAIN IM HER BABY IM HER BABY IM HER BABY IM HER BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
SOMEONE FUCKING BUILD A CASTLE INSIDE HER SHIRT FOR ME I'M NOT LEAVING
Selene (Tiny Demons GC):
I WANNA LIVE HERE I WANNA DIE HERE I WANNA PAY RENT HERE I'LL DO DISHES I'LL SING HER LULLABIES I'LL BUILD SHRINES TO HER
Grown ass woman BTW.
I pulled the fabric slightly tighter around her with one arm.
She went fully limp.
Melted into me like butter left too long in the sun.
Outside the penthouse, the world kept spinning.
Inside?
Only a tiny hacker princess losing her mind in my arms.
And I let her.
Northvale Private Academy. Main Courtyard. 7:42 AM.
The fall wind hit harder here.
Sharper. Meaner.
My shoes crunched over the gravel path like they still remembered the last time they walked this road—
but I didn't look back.
Not once.
I adjusted the glasses on my face.
Shoulders relaxed.
Hoodie zipped halfway.
Hair loosely tied up, low effort.
Still the orphan.
Still the nerd.
Still invisible.
Except... not quite.
Because this time?
I was hotter.
And not in a "glow-up" way.
In a "this-is-suspiciously-unfair" kind of way.
Jawline sharper.
Skin flawless.
Lips glossed but untouched.
And the body underneath the hoodie?
None of their business.
I kept walking.
Eyes on the main steps.
That's where she stood.
Valentina Vercetti.
Black boots.
Black skirt.
Black heart.
Leaning against the railing with one cigarette between two fingers, phone in her other hand.
Texting.
Smirking.
Not even looking up.
Three of her little minions scattered behind her like groupies at a photo shoot.
I stepped onto the stone just near her left side.
Kept walking.
Didn't say a word.
She clocked the footsteps.
Didn't look up.
Didn't stop scrolling.
Didn't even break character.
And in full mafia princess rhythm, she launched:
"Careful, ratgirl. Wouldn't want you to trip and land in another charity sob story. What's the matter, foster mommy didn't pack you better shoes—wait, are those the same ones from last year? Gross. You still smell like tax fraud and public transport."
Still didn't look up.
I kept walking.
Then she looked up.
And saw me.
Pause.
Her fingers stopped moving.
The cigarette hovered near her lip but didn't touch.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
And Valentina Vercetti—heir to the most dangerous mafia empire alive—
did something she'd never done before.
She fumbled her entire script.
Her mouth opened.
Words tried to come out.
But what came out instead was:
"Who—the—fuck—you—what—who—stop—wait—I—your—face—what—who—no—"
She blinked hard.
Once. Twice.
Looked back down at her phone like it betrayed her.
Then looked back up.
I slowed just enough to walk past her shoulder.
Close enough for her perfume to mix with mine.
Her hand twitched.
Like she forgot how to hold a cigarette.
I didn't say a word.
Didn't smile.
Didn't stop.
Just passed her.
And let her confusion choke her entire brainstem.
Behind me, I heard her whisper under her breath:
"Why—is—she—hot—why—is—she—hot—why—is—the—orphan—hot—I—was—not—briefed—for—this—who—coded—her—like—that—Jesus—fucking—Christ—I—need—ice—water—my—phone—is—vibrating—and—I—am—too."
One of her minions tried to say something.
She slapped their hand away without looking.
I didn't look back.
Let them stare.
This was just the beginning.