TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, KNIFE AND TORTURE. My heart raced as Luca opened the file. I braced myself, every muscle in my body stiffened. This is it. They knew. They had to know. My cover has been exposed. But as my eyes scanned the pages, the tension in my body changed to confusion. There was nothing like Elias Carter in the file. No classified FBI report, no record of my past, my mission. Nothing about me. Instead, I saw a different name and face. Marcus Delano. He was a well known arms dealer, trafficker and a lot of other shady things. His name was well known across security agencies, he was on the list of people that the FBI needed to take care of. I exhaled slowly, relief coursing through me. They didn't know who I was. But that relief was short lived because as it was more of the document, I realized something else. This wasn't just a random file, it was a test. I had two choices. Play dumb or prove myself. I gritted my teeth. Alright, Luca. You want to
TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, KNIFE AND TORTURE. The air was filled with the smell of metal, sweat, piss, blood and something rotten tag made me crunch up my nose. Inside, hunched over in a chair, was Marcus Delano. His face was barely recognizable. His face was swollen and bloodied, one of his eyes sealed shut due to the injuries on it. His wrists were tied on the arms of the chair with thick leather straps. His ankles were equally secured tightly. His chest rose and fell with each uneven breath he took. I heard the alarms in my head go off as I stared at the man before me. This wasn’t what I expected. I had prepared for anything—an ambush, another interrogation, maybe even my own execution. But this? This was worse. Luca stepped inside first, Matteo following with that usual lazy swagger of his. I hesitated at the doorway, every fiber of my being telling me to run. But I didn’t. Because running wasn’t an option. Not here. Not now. Luca turned to me, his expression unreadable.
TW: BLOOD, KNIFE, STABBING.The moment my eyes landed on him, my blood ran cold.No.It wasn’t possible.Yet, here he was.Tied to a chair. Bloodied, bruised. His face was barely recognizable beneath all the swelling and dried blood, but I knew those eyes.Agent Ryan Calloway.We weren’t exactly friends in reality. But we had trained together. I had seen him in the field, knew his strengths and weaknesses. He was younger than me by a few years, still proving himself in the Bureau.And now he was here.Sold into this life, just like me.My body tensed. What the fuck was he doing here?I felt Luca’s gaze burning into the side of my face, assessing me. Waiting to see how I would react.I forced my expression to remain cold and unreadable.The moment Ryan's eyes landed on me, there was a flash of recognition and something that was gone just as quickly as it had come. His face became cold, there was no reaction, no sign of betrayal.Slowly, he gave me a subtle nod that told me all that I n
The taste of blood and Matteo was something I had never expected to be so delicious. I wanted more of it.Matteo’s kiss had been unexpected—burning with passion and consuming—but before I could fully process it, he pulled away, eyes gleaming with something dark. Something starving."Luca," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "I think our little killer needs a reward."My breath hitched.Luca had been silent, watching. Always watching. But now, he stepped forward with his usual slow and powerful walk.I should have felt something—guilt, fear, hate. But I didn’t. The man I had been—the agent, the infiltrator—was slipping away.This new version of me? He craved the fire. The pain. Everything.Luca reached out and cupped by chin in his hand, tilting my face up to meet his gaze which was locked onto mine, unwavering.Luca’s fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up. His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering."You didn’t hesitate," he said, I could smell the faint whiskey on his breath which a
I was left in only my boxers on the leather couch, waiting and ready for them.“Wait.” Matteo suddenly said. “Let's go somewhere else.”Right. There was a dead body in the room. I had almost forgotten.“Get up, come with us.” Luca said, turning to the door and walking out.I was a bit shy about walking out in just my boxers but I knew that putting on my clothes could bring on dire consequences. A voice in the deepest part of my mind was yelling at me, telling me that this wasn't me but I shoved it aside. I was testing the waters. You only live once, I'll do this now and focus on the regrets later.I followed them, my bare feet silent against the cold floor. The air in the basement was different—thicker, heavier. Maybe it was the lingering scent of blood and sweat, or maybe it was just the way Luca and Matteo moved, their steps unhurried, deliberate while my body was burning with need and undeniable arousal Matteo hit a button on the wall and to my greatest surprise, the wall slid op
The darkness sharpened other senses.All I could hear was the sound of my heavy breathing. All I could feel was the cold from the sheet and air conditioner. I tensed as I felt the warmth of someone's tongue on my tip. Then the person slowly took my tip into his mouth, this made me moan. I haven't had any form of sexual activities in a while so I was very sensitive.The person began to suck, this made me take in a sharp deep breath. “Take more…” I whispered.That was my mistake because the person instantly left my lips, letting my member fall down to my thigh.“What..? No, please.” I was desperate but I didn't care, they were toying with my pleasure. We had barely started and I was frustrated.“So needy. So submissive.” Matteo teased and then they went silent.For a while I didn't feel nor hear anything. Then there was a touch, it was the light drag of fingertips over my ribcage. I flinched because the fingers were cold, making me shiver.Matteo chuckled lowly.Of course it was him.
The restraints held firm.Every shift of my body reminded me of them—how they bit into my wrists, how they stretched me out, exposed, vulnerable. I wasn’t sure how long I had been here, lost in the game that they were playing. Time had blurred, fading away.Luca and Matteo circled me like predators.Watching.Waiting.I had expected more pain or another ice cube, the slow torment but what came next wasn't what I had expected.It was silent. It was so eerily quiet that it was unnerving and overwhelming.I tried to slow my breathing, to calm my racing heart but the silence made it worse. It amplified everything, the soft rustle of their clothing, the sound of the leather moving as they kept it aside, the faint exhale of breath when one of them moved closer.Luca’s fingers brushed lightly over my collarbone, a whisper of a touch that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.Matteo was at my side, dragging something down my arm. Not sharp, but cool and metallic. A chain? A ring? His pier
I stared at the empty bed, the sheets still slightly rumpled where they had been and had gone cold, meaning that they had gotten up long ago. The feeling of their presence lingered in the air, but the reality was clear—I was alone.It shouldn't have mattered.I told myself that it didn’t.But a strange emptiness settled in my chest, something uncomfortably close to disappointment. Something I shouldn't even have felt.I sat up, running a hand through my hair, forcing the remnants of sleep away. Don’t be stupid. I told myself.This wasn't anything, it meant nothing. I had gotten a glimpse of something that I shouldn't have— affection, comfort and a sexuality I had been a little too curious about. But it all wasn't real, it wasn't my world.I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. I needed to shake this feeling off. Dwelling on it wouldn’t do me any favors. I was here for a reason, and I couldn’t afford to get lost in something as dangerous as attachment.Forget about it.The though
I woke up the next morning to the smell of something familiar.Bacon.And not just any kind, it was the thick-cut kind Luca always insisted on ordering from that small butcher outside Brooklyn. I didn’t move at first, just laid in bed and let the scent drift around me, half-convinced it was a dream. But then came the sizzle of eggs and the faint clang of a pan being moved around from downstairs. My eyes opened.It wasn’t a dream.I got up, showered quickly, and threw on a black T-shirt and joggers. The silence in the hallways was different this morning—lighter. I didn’t trust it.When I walked into the kitchen, I froze.Luca stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up, brow slightly furrowed as he flipped pancakes like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn't thrown me into a dungeon not long ago. Like we hadn’t broken each other in every possible way.He turned when he hear
The halls were just as cold as I remembered.The same marble floors, same glass walls, same suffocating silence. It had been three days since we had landed in New York and walked back through the dark gates of the Rossi estate, and not one of them had spoken to me.Not really, at least.Just a few words here and there—“you’re free to go wherever,” “meals are at seven,” “the guest room’s ready.” All formal. Detached.Matteo’s eyes had flickered toward me a couple of times when he thought I wasn’t looking. Luca had kept his distance entirely by burying himself in meetings, calls, whatever power play he had been running behind the scenes. If I didn't know them as well as I did, I would have said that they were avoiding me out of shame but I knew better.They were watching.Waiting.For what, I didn’t know.I had spent most of the days wandering around the house like a ghost.
The sun was beginning to dip below the valley when I returned to the villa, the warm golden rays bathed the villa making it even more breathtaking.The issue has turned out to be a minor one but took over a day to resolve and I was more than happy to be home and soon to be in Eli's arms.It was quiet— the type of peace and quiet that I usually craved and cherished after all the blood, movie and chaos but today, something felt different.It was too quiet.Off.Too still.As I stepped into the grand entryway, I called out. “Eli?”Nothing.My pulse kicks up.“Eli?” I say again, louder now.Still nothing.Where’s Eli? I wondered.Pulling off my gloves, I walked into the living room but there was still no sign of Eli. The bedroom? Empty. Bathroom — untouched. The sheets were still rumpled from the previous morning, the pil
The car ride was silent.Only the faint hum of the engine and the crunch of gravel under big, thick tires outside broke the silence between us as they sped down the back roads leading us further away from the railway.I turned to look at the man next to me. Nathan. They had brought him into the car shortly after me, he would be treated and then sent back to America.This made me wonder where they were taking me to.Nathan lay beside me in the backseat, unconscious again, his breathing shallow but steady. The seat beneath him was stained with blood. I’d pressed my jacket against his side, trying to soak up the worst of it.Matteo was up in front, in the passenger seat with a phone to his ear, barking orders rapidly in Italian.Luca sat opposite me, legs crossed, his hand absently adjusting the cuffs of his coat like this was any other day. Like we weren’t running from a crime scene. Like they weren’t
I kept my face calm, even as my mind ran through every possible way to escape. Every breath I took felt like I was inhaling poison—thick with tension and with fear I’d buried but never truly outrun.“I’m not yours,” I said quietly, jaw clenched. “I never was.”Matteo’s smile faded just slightly, the flicker of irritation showing like a crack in stone. “Then why are you here, Elias?”I didn’t answer.Instead, I looked past him. My eyes scanning the shadows behind the platform, the corners of the station, the windows above—anything. Nathan had to be nearby. They don't want me to see him yet. They wanted me to feel the consequences of disobedience.Luca circled me slowly now, like a wolf circling around the prey to be its next meal. “You always had that fire,” he murmured. “Even when we broke you in.”“You tried to break me.”“Hmm. We did more than try.” He leaned in close to my ear. “But
The old railway station looked like the bones of some long-dead giant. Its frame creaked under the slightest weight as it was worn out and old, the iron rails were rusted and bent like fractured limbs. Fog clung to the ground making it more eerie than it already was, they moved around my boots like fingers trying to drag me back.Still, I walked forward.The cab had pulled away minutes ago, its headlight growing dimer until it finally disappeared into the night. I was alone now—no backup, no comms, no tracker. I didn’t even know how long I had been walking. Every step I took sounded too loud as it echoed through the quiet night. My heart thumped against my ribs like it was trying to escape.I scanned the dark.Every instinct screaming at me that it was a trap.And it was. No doubt. But it was a trap I chose to walk into.I walked around the outer wall, sticking to the shadows, eyes sharply scanning
The phone buzzed again.My eyes hadn’t left the photo of Nathan Cole, bloodied and broken, tied to a chair like some animal that had been hunted and caught. His body language said everything—he was near the end of his rope. My throat tightened as I tapped the new message."If you want him to survive the night, come to this location."Another message sent a pin on a map. Rome. An abandoned rail station on the city’s outskirts.It felt like ice begin to flood through my veins.I stared at it, heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears.They were really doing this. Luca and Matteo had him. And they were playing their sick, twisted game again.I rubbed my face, trying to breathe. Think.Nathan wasn’t just an agent. He was the only reason I’d ever made it out alive. When I was still Elias Carter, drowning under cover so deep I couldn’t remember who I was, he pulled me out. He
The moment the terrace door flew open and Ricci’s man stepped through, everything changed.I could feel it like a sudden drop in temperature. A stillness that wasn’t peaceful anymore—but charged, like lightning had just struck a tree. The man looked like he’d run through hell barefoot—sweat dripped down his temple, he was breathing hard, his eyes were wild and a little bit haunted.He didn’t speak in English. The words tumbled out in fast, clipped Italian—coded, urgent.I recognized a few word from the conversations Ricci had trained me to understand over the weeks, but this wasn’t the usual “check the perimeter” or “bring the car around.” No, this was something else. Something serious.Ricci froze for just a second.Then everything about him changed.He grabbed his phone and his shirt in one swift motion, muscles instantly becoming taunt beneath his skin, his face shifting into that unreadable expre
The night was unusually still.Even the crickets had gone quiet. The wind barely moved the olive tree branches. The stars looked close enough to touch, glittering over the coastal hills of Tuscany, bathing the villa’s terrace in pale silver light. It was like the whole world had paused—just for us.Eli was curled beside me on the wide terrace lounge, his head resting on my shoulder,a light cotton blanket draped across our legs. The stars stretched endlessly above us, brighter and than I’d ever seen them back in the city, it was beautiful. We were both barefoot, an empty bottle of wine resting near our feet.He smelled like sun kissed skin and saltwater. My hand lazily traced the curve of his arm, stopping occasionally just to feel him—solid, real, breathing. His fingers played lazily with the edge of my shirt. The skin-to-skin contact should’ve felt ordinary by now—but it never did. Not with him.We’d spent the day wrapped in a slow kind of bliss