The room exploded into chaos. Gunfire rang out, the sharp cracks deafening in the confined space. Levi lunged forward, his movements fast and brutal. I barely had time to react before a bullet whizzed past my shoulder, embedding itself in the wall behind me. Livia was already ducking behind an overturned table, reloading with a wicked grin on her face. Levi’s sister remained standing, her gun still aimed directly at him. But she had not fired. Not yet. I rolled, taking cover behind a metal cabinet, my heart pounding. My fingers gripped my weapon, my breaths controlled. One wrong move and this could end in disaster. Levi had stopped moving. His gun was raised, but his stance had changed. He was no longer an executioner. He was a brother looking at the person who had once been his family. "Put it down," Levi said, his voice steady, but there was something in it. Something raw. His sister's grip on the gun tightened. "You would really shoot me, Levi?" Livia scoffed from behin
I stared at the file in front of me, my mind racing. The name on the page burned into my vision, twisting my stomach into knots. This was not just another enemy. This was something worse. Someone worse. Someone who knew us. Someone who had been watching, waiting for the right moment to strike. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe. Theo was watching me carefully, waiting for my reaction, but I could not let myself lose control. Not now. Not when everything was balanced on a knife’s edge. "We have to handle this," I said, my voice tight. Theo nodded, though his expression remained grim. "We will. But we need to be smart about it. If Levi finds out now—" "I know," I cut in. "He will go straight for blood. And if we are not careful, that is exactly what they want." Theo rubbed a hand down his face. "Livia is still locked up. We could press her for more information." I shook my head. "She is too smart for that. She will only tell us what she wants us to know. And she
Levi’s grip on my waist was tight, his body coiled with tension as he studied the scene before us. The weight of everything we had done, everyone we had lost, lingered in the air between us. But it wasn’t over. Not yet. I took a slow breath, my ribs aching from the last fight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the blood, heard the last desperate gasps of men who had thought they could take us down. But Livia was still out there. So was Levi’s twin sister. And after everything, we were finally close to ending this. Levi's jaw tightened, his fingers brushing against my stomach before he caught himself and stepped back. He had been doing that a lot lately. The worry in his eyes was something he had tried to hide, but I saw it. And I hated it. "I know what you're thinking," I said, watching as his lips pressed together in frustration. "I doubt that," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want you involved in what happens next." I scoffed, crossing my arms. "That’s t
The chaos inside the club was deafening. Glass shattered, screams cut through the air, and the scent of blood mixed with the thick perfume of alcohol and sweat. My heart pounded in my chest, but my hands were steady as I gripped my knife, ducking low as a bullet whizzed past my head. Levi was a force of nature, his movements lethal and precise as he cut through the Rossetti men without hesitation. Cade had disappeared into the shadows, using the darkness to his advantage. But my focus was on two people—Livia and Levi’s sister. Livia had vanished the second the fight broke out, slipping through the chaos like a ghost. Levi’s sister, however, remained in place, watching everything unfold with an eerie kind of detachment. I needed to get to her. I pushed forward, weaving through bodies, dodging attacks as I made my way toward the back of the club. The bass from the music still vibrated through the floors, mixing with the sounds of gunfire and the grunts of men falling one by one.
Time blurred. I had no idea how long I had been in this cold, damp room. Hours? A day? My body ached from the position I had been tied in, my wrists raw from the rough ropes. Every breath I took felt heavier, like the air itself was thick with something unseen. The only sound was the occasional drip of water somewhere in the darkness, a slow, maddening rhythm that reminded me how alone I was. But I wasn’t panicked. Not yet. I had been in worse situations before. The trick was to keep my mind clear, to keep control of my breathing. I had learned long ago that the moment fear took hold, you lost. Footsteps echoed in the distance. I straightened slightly, my muscles tensing as I listened. The steps were slow, deliberate, like whoever was approaching wanted me to know they were coming. A moment later, the door creaked open, and light flooded the space. Livia stepped inside first, dressed in the same sleek black she always wore. Behind her, Levi’s sister followed, her express
I gripped the knife tightly, my heartbeat steady despite the circumstances. My wrists ached from the raw burn of the rope, but I ignored it. Pain was secondary to survival. I needed to get out of here, and I needed to do it before Levi walked into whatever trap they had laid for him. The room was quiet again, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long. Livia was arrogant, but she wasn’t careless. She would have guards stationed outside, watching, waiting. Levi’s sister was another problem entirely. I had seen something flicker across her face, something almost human, but it didn’t mean I could trust her. I moved quickly, crouching as I made my way toward the door. The knife in my hand was small, barely enough to do real damage unless I struck in exactly the right place. I pressed my ear against the heavy wood, listening. Two men. Their voices were low, their conversation casual. They weren’t expecting me to escape. Good. I took a slow breath and positioned myself against the wall
I leaned back against the seat, trying to steady my breathing, but the fear still clung to me. The adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving a dull, aching exhaustion in its wake. Levi's grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles white, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes flicked between the rearview mirror and the road ahead, sharp and calculating, like he was waiting for something to happen, always prepared. His silence only made the tension between us heavier. The engine hummed beneath us, but it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me, on both of us.I could still feel the sting of the wound on my side, but I pushed it aside for now. I’d survived far worse. My mind kept replaying the events that had unfolded, the moment I realized the trap they had set for me, and the ruthless way Livia and Levi's sister had orchestrated it all. The sting of betrayal was bitter in my mouth, and I could taste it, but I couldn't afford to think too much on it—not yet.Levi’s grip
I felt the weight of the silence between us, a suffocating, almost tangible force as Levi and I continued to drive through the darkened streets. The tension was thick, like the air just before a storm. I could feel it in the way his jaw clenched with each passing second, in the way his fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles growing paler with each beat of his heart. He was furious, no doubt about it. But underneath that fury, I could sense something else—a barely-contained panic, something raw, something real. It wasn’t just fear for me, though that was part of it. It was the overwhelming sense that we were standing on the edge of something we couldn’t control, something that was too big for us to fix on our own.I leaned back in the seat, my hands folded across my chest as I stared out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur of neon lights and shadows. My mind was racing, too many thoughts swirling at once, too many pieces of the puzzle still missing. I cou
Years had passed since the day we fought for freedom, for peace, and for the life we have now. The life we had dreamed of for so long but never dared to imagine in the depth of our darkest days.Our home was no longer a symbol of chaos or fear—it was a sanctuary. The walls that once echoed with tension now hummed with the laughter of our children and the soft murmur of conversations that held no weight of the past. It was a place of peace, of love, of family.Levi stood by the window, looking out over the vast grounds of our estate. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over everything. He had always been the protector, the one who looked out for everyone, but now, as I watched him from behind, I saw the shift. The years had softened him in ways I hadn't expected. His gaze, once sharp and filled with purpose, now held a quiet w
We stood together, the weight of the world no longer pressing down on us. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could finally see the horizon ahead—clear, unobstructed, and full of promise. The past had been a storm, one we’d weathered with everything we had, but now the skies were calm, the air sweet with the scent of new beginnings.Levi’s hand found mine, his fingers wrapping around mine with that familiar, comforting strength. We had come so far, from the darkness of a life we never asked for, to this—this quiet, peaceful moment where everything felt right. We had built a life together, piece by piece, through the pain and the loss, through every challenge that had come our way. And now, we were free.I looked down at our son, sleeping peacefully in Levi’s arms, his tiny chest rising and falling with every breath. He was a symbol of everything we had fought for, everything we had dreamed of. He was our future, and that
The world had changed for us. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe without the weight of the past suffocating me. Levi and I, side by side, were finally at peace. The endless battles, the constant fight for survival, all of it felt like it was behind us. There was no more running, no more hiding. We had built something together, something we never thought we’d have: a life that was free of fear, full of hope, and, most importantly, full of love.I watched Levi as he stood by the window, his hands resting lightly on the sill. The evening sun bathed him in a warm golden light, casting long shadows across the room. His face, once hardened by years of war and loss, now wore a calmness that I hadn’t thought possible. There were lines on his face, yes, but they were no longer lines of anger or sorrow. They were lines of experience, of wisdom. He had lived through so much, and yet, now, in this quiet moment, he was at peace. We both were.I leaned a
Levi held the envelope in his hands, his fingers tracing the edges of it as if unsure whether to open it. The silence was heavy between us, each of us waiting for him to make the first move. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me. I had never expected to find myself in this situation, not with Levi’s mother standing before us, and certainly not with her holding something that could change everything. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like the room itself was holding its breath.I glanced at Levi, who was still staring down at the envelope, his jaw tense, his mind clearly processing everything. It wasn’t just the content of the letter that he was contemplating; it was the years of abandonment, of unanswered questions, of the emptiness that his mother had left in his life. No matter how much he tried to shield himself from it, the truth about her absence, the reason why she had walked away all those years ago, was something that
The days after our vow renewal passed in a peaceful blur. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no enemies at the gates, no secrets threatening to tear us apart. There was only the present—the quiet, intimate moments we shared as a family. Levi and I spent hours talking about our future, about the life we were going to build for our son. We reflected on all we had endured to get to this point, but even more so on the love we had for each other and the trust that had grown between us.In these moments, I felt a sense of calm that was foreign to me. In the past, I had always been on edge, waiting for the next betrayal, the next threat to arise. But now, in the safety of our home, with our son sleeping peacefully in his crib, I allowed myself to feel what I had always longed for—peace.Levi and I shared a quiet dinner one evening, the soft glow of the lights illuminating the room. Our son was asleep in his room, and for the first time,
As I watched Levi hold our son, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to melt away. It was hard to believe that just months ago, we were fighting for survival, struggling with betrayals, with enemies lurking at every corner. And now here we were, in a hospital room, surrounded by the soft hum of machines and the faint scent of antiseptic, with our child between us. I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt more at peace.Levi had always been the force of nature, the leader who commanded respect, but here, in this moment, I saw a side of him I hadn’t truly known before. The man I thought I understood—cold, calculated, driven by the mission—was now softened, changed by the simple act of holding our child. Our son, our little miracle, had transformed him in ways I didn’t think were possible.I turned my head to look at him, my hand resting gently on his arm. He was staring down at the baby with a soft expression on his face, his
The moment Levi held our baby for the first time was one I would never forget. I had seen him strong, cold, ruthless in battle, and yet here, in the quiet, dimly lit hospital room, all that faded away. It was just him, me, and the tiny life we had created together.His arms were gentle, yet his grip was firm, as if he were afraid to let go, as if the very idea of losing this moment, losing this piece of him, terrified him more than anything else. His face was soft, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I had never seen before. He looked at our child with a kind of reverence, his gaze intense and full of awe.“I never thought…” Levi’s voice faltered, thick with emotion, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his armor. His gaze flickered from the baby to me, and there was a shift in him, something profound. “I never thought I could feel like this. So... so helpless. But in the best way. This... this little one has already changed
The world around me was a blur of motion, flashes of light and darkness, the steady beep of machines blending with the sound of Levi’s voice. He was calling my name, his hand gripping mine tightly, but everything felt distant, as though I was floating somewhere far from him.“Eliana, stay with me,” he said, his voice strained, as though it was costing him everything to speak. I could hear the panic there, the fear, but there was something else too—something I hadn’t heard before. Something raw. His hand tightened around mine, and I tried to squeeze back, but my fingers felt heavy, sluggish. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t stay present. My body felt foreign to me, as though I was losing control of it.“Eliana,” Levi’s voice broke through again, more urgent this time. “I need you to stay with me. Just a little longer, please.”I tried to respond, but no words came. Instead, I felt the p
I wasn’t sure how long we’d been fighting, but it felt like hours, maybe days. Each moment blurred into the next as we moved, fought, and fought some more. The Rossettis, Livia, even Mr. Rossetti—they had been obstacles, pieces of the puzzle, but they weren’t the true threat. They were pawns, caught in a game they didn’t understand. It was always her. Levi’s twin sister. I had sensed it all along, but I hadn’t been able to put the pieces together until now. Every step we had taken, every move, it had all been leading us to her. She was the one who orchestrated this entire nightmare. The Rossettis had been too predictable, too visible. It had been her, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. And now, as we stood on the precipice of everything we had fought for, it became clear. She was here. She was the storm we had been trying to survive, and now it was time to face it head-on. Levi’s anger was palpable beside me. I could feel the tension in his every muscle, the way he gripp