Listening to the story told by Vanessa, I never imagined the situation would be so complex. As she spoke, I realized that every word seemed to weigh tons. The woman who always crossed the campus with a cold, distant expression, intimidating everyone around her with nothing more than a glance, was now sitting in front of me, her eyes glassy and her voice slightly trembling. It was as if two completely different Vanessas coexisted in that moment: the strong, untouchable, dangerous one… and the exhausted woman, suffocating under decisions she never had the right to make.
The situation was so absurd that an ex-mafioso seemed to be the closest thing to a "good man" in that story. That alone said a lot about the hole we were in.
I had agreed to help Vanessa almost on impulse, without thinking about the real consequences. Deep down, I thought it would be something simple—some complicated family issue, perhaps emotional blackmail or financial pressure. I never imagined I was about to plunge into a game involving international drug trafficking, immigration, political corruption, and a fight that would decide the fate of real people.
At the same time that fear grew inside me, there was something stronger. An almost instinctive need to help that woman. Seeing Vanessa like that—fragile, vulnerable—affected me in a way I couldn't rationally explain. Maybe it was empathy. Maybe premature attachment. Or maybe it was simply the fact that I couldn't stand the idea of abandoning her in that moment.
As she finished speaking, I began to think in silence. We needed something beyond the fight. Even if I beat Maxwell, there was no guarantee that Jonathan or his family would honor any agreement. People like them don't play fair. They don't keep their word. We needed leverage—something that would pin them against the wall.
That was when the idea began to take shape.
If Jonathan's brother, the current Minister of Immigration, knew about the family's illegal activities, then he was also involved—directly or indirectly. And if he was involved, he would never allow that to become public. A scandal of that magnitude would destroy not only his political career but the entire power structure that supported that family.
The problem was simple and terrifying at the same time: how could we prove it?
We had only one month until the fight with Maxwell. One month to gather information, find concrete evidence, and survive without drawing too much attention. I didn't believe I would lose the fight, but my victory alone wouldn't solve anything. Vanessa's father's visa would still be a bargaining chip.
The ideal solution would be to find physical evidence—catch someone from the Albert family at the drug production site. Photos, records, anything that directly tied their name to the crime. But where was that place? Who would have access to that kind of information?
That was when I thought of my uncle.
He had spent his entire life behind the scenes of the business world, alongside my father, negotiating with people who looked respectable on the outside but hid rot on the inside. If anyone knew rumors, illegal routes, and dangerous names, it was him.
I grabbed my phone and stood up.
"Hello, Uncle. I need a favor," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
I made a discreet gesture to Vanessa and her father, indicating that I needed to speak in private. I left the office and walked down the dimly lit hallway of the mansion. The silence there felt heavier than before, as if the walls had absorbed too many secrets over the years.
I explained the entire situation to my uncle—from Vanessa to Jonathan, the fight, the arranged marriage, and the visa.
"Look… Luke. I can introduce you to someone who knows more about this than I do," he said after a few seconds of silence. "But I need to be honest: you might be stepping into something very dangerous."
"Uncle, honestly… I don't even know why I'm doing this," I replied, staring at the marble floor.
"From what I understand, you're doing this for a woman. And when it comes to women, we often do completely irresponsible things," he said in a half-joking, half-serious tone.
He was right. The only reason I was there was Vanessa. Our relationship was barely a week old. There were no promises, no plans, no defined future. Still, the idea of seeing her suffer, of losing her, or of knowing she would be forced into a life she didn't choose deeply disturbed me.
Maybe it was gratitude. Maybe it was attraction. Maybe it was just the selfish desire not to lose someone who, in a strange way, was already important to me.
"Uncle… I want to help her."
"Alright. I'll send you a contact. Trust me—he'll want to help you."
When the message arrived, I felt a mix of relief and fear. From that moment on, there was no turning back.
I returned to the office and explained everything to Vanessa and her father. I didn't create false hope; I made it clear how risky the plan was. Her father listened in absolute silence. When I finished, I noticed his gaze had changed. There was no longer judgment there—only respect and concern.
He approved the idea and offered to help with whatever was necessary: money, security, contacts. It was already late at night, and emotional exhaustion was visible on all of us. We decided to continue the conversation the next day.
I left the office with Vanessa. She walked beside me in silence, arms crossed, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"Why are you doing all of this?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "I dragged you into a completely unreal situation… and instead of being angry at me, you're here, helping me."
"I don't know how to explain it properly," I replied. "I just… can't pretend this isn't happening."
She stopped. Took a step forward and hugged me tightly. She buried her face in my chest and began to cry almost immediately. I held her carefully, running my hand through her hair, feeling her body tremble.
For the first time, Vanessa seemed to allow herself to truly lean on someone.
When her crying stopped, she looked at me with swollen eyes, waiting for something. I couldn't find the words. Instead, I leaned in and kissed her softly—a simple gesture, but loaded with meaning.
"Sleep with me tonight," she said.
I nodded.
We went to her bedroom, and when we entered, scenes from the previous weekend flooded my mind. Vanessa pulled me into a more intense kiss, and everything began to unfold naturally.
I took off my jacket while Vanessa unbuttoned my dress shirt.
I slid down the zipper of her dress, revealing her smooth back, and skillfully unclasped her bra on the first try, exposing Vanessa's pink breasts. While I finished removing my pants, she slipped out of her dress. Soon, I was wearing only my briefs, and she her panties. We kissed again, our nearly naked bodies pressed against each other.
Vanessa's breasts were pressed against my chest, and my arousal, already high, only intensified. We moved to the bed, still kissing. I broke the connection between our lips and gently pushed Vanessa onto the mattress. I positioned myself on top of her and began kissing her neck, slowly trailing down her body—passing over her breasts and stomach—until I reached the waistband of her panties.
I pulled her panties down, and Vanessa spread her legs, revealing her pussy. I could see a few small pubic hairs, which, to me, gave her a natural charm. My intention was to go down on her, but I was interrupted by her voice.
"I'm already wet—put it in."
I couldn't ignore her request. I took off my briefs, revealing my rock-hard cock. I aligned it with the entrance of her vagina and pushed in slowly. A sigh of pleasure escaped Vanessa's lips as she was filled. Inside, it was indeed very wet.
With me on top, we started in the missionary position. I moved slowly at first, getting used to the delicious sensation of her pussy wrapped around my cock. Vanessa wrapped her arms around my body, and I began to pick up the pace. The room filled with the sound of bodies colliding, mixed with sighs and moans of pleasure.
"Aaah…"
Vanessa's sensual moans in my ear made my arousal grow even more. I continued thrusting my cock into her wet pussy. Suddenly, I felt her tighten around me, followed by a deep moan filled with pleasure. Vanessa had just reached orgasm. A sense of pride washed over me—for the first time, I made a woman climax with me while taking the lead.
I thought about changing positions, but by the way Vanessa's arms tightened around me even more, I understood she wanted to stay like that—pressed together. I continued my movements, growing more confident, understanding the rhythm and the way she liked to be penetrated.
"Cum inside me."
The devilish whisper slid through my ears. I couldn't resist. A few thrusts later, I felt my cock contract, and an intense wave of pleasure surged through my body. All of my cum spilled inside her pussy. In the end, I lay on top of Vanessa's sweaty body.
Only our breathing filled the silence of the room.