SARAHI stood frozen, the accusation hanging heavy in the air, Marco’s words still echoing in my ears. Isabella set me up? It felt surreal, like I wasn’t fully there. My eyes darted around the room, and all I saw were shocked expressions. No one moved. Everyone stared at Marco as he stood, calm and collected, accusing Isabella of something so… unthinkable.“This is ridiculous,” Isabella hissed, her voice sharp and venomous. “What are you even talking about, Marco?”She looked around the room, clearly trying to find someone—anyone—who would back her up. But all eyes were still on Marco, waiting. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my skin hot and tight like it was burning up from the inside. Isabella, the jewelry, this entire situation—it was spiraling out of control.“You paid someone,” Marco said coldly, “to lure Sarah out of her room with a false message that I needed to see her. Meanwhile, you planted your jewelry under her pillow.” He paused, his gaze hardening as he locke
SARAHThe TV flickered on, and the room fell silent. All eyes turned to the screen as the image sharpened into focus. There was Isabella, pacing in what looked like one of the mansion’s empty rooms. She was talking to someone, but the figure was hooded, their face completely obscured. The audio wasn’t great, but it was enough. I could make out fragments, little pieces of their conversation that were more than enough to send chills down my spine.“… Sarah… nuisance…” Isabella’s voice was crystal clear. Her tone was mocking, like she was enjoying every bit of what she was planning. She laughed, a nasty little giggle that sent a sick feeling swirling in my stomach.The hooded figure leaned in, whispering something that wasn’t entirely clear, but I caught the words, “…jab at her… easy to frame…”Isabella snickered again. “She’ll never see it coming,” she said, her voice dripping with glee. “This party will be unforgettable… for her.”I stood frozen, my eyes wide in shock. How could she? M
SARAHAs I sat on the edge of the bed in Marco's room, I found it hard to pull my eyes away from him. My mind was still racing from everything that had happened earlier, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, but now, instead of focusing on the chaos of the night, all I could think about was Marco. How effortlessly cool and calm he had been when he stood up for me. He had exposed Isabella’s lies without hesitation, and for the first time in a long while, I felt protected. I watched him move from the counter to the bookshelf, his presence filling the room. Every motion was purposeful, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger. He looked different to me now—more than just the man I was forced to marry. He was... something else. Someone I couldn’t quite figure out. My heart beat faster, and I swallowed, suddenly aware of the way my gaze followed him.And then, he turned to me, catching me completely off guard."Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, his voice teasing. His lips cur
MARCOI sat in my office, the air heavy with tension. The dim light from the lamp cast long shadows across the room, but my focus was entirely on the screen in front of me. Tony sat on my left, fidgeting slightly, while Petrov stood stoic on my right. The grainy footage from earlier played again, and my stomach twisted as the sound of Isabella’s voice filled the room.“Play it again,” I muttered, my hand gripping the edge of the desk.Petrov nodded, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. The screen flickered, and there it was—the scene that had been gnawing at me since we discovered it. Isabella, standing in a dimly lit hallway, her voice filled with venom, speaking to someone cloaked in shadows.“Are you sure you can pull this off?” Isabella’s voice echoed through the room. “You know what to do. You take Marco and the rest of his family out, and Sarah… well,” she laughed softly, chillingly, “I’ll take care of Sarah. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”The laughter t
SARAHI woke up that morning with a strange sense of calm. It had been days since the whole ordeal with Isabella, and I had been hiding, practically invisible, ever since. I guess I needed that time to process everything. The accusations, the betrayal, the chaos. But I couldn’t stay locked away in my room forever. At some point, I had to face the house, the people, and most importantly, myself.I stared at the ceiling for a moment, taking in the quiet of the room. It had been peaceful. Too peaceful. While that peace was welcome at first, it was starting to feel like a cage. I needed to move, to be useful again. I sighed and sat up, pushing the covers off me. Today was the day. I was going to step out of my self-imposed exile and get some work done.“Okay, Sarah,” I muttered to myself, “no more hiding. You can’t be bedridden all day.”I swung my legs off the bed and stood, stretching my stiff muscles. I walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed a few clothes that needed washing. I wasn’t
MARCO The engine hummed steadily beneath me, but my blood was boiling. My hands tightened around the wheel, jaw clenched as we drove toward the docks. The night outside the window felt too quiet, too still for what had just happened. They stole from me. Again. And this time, they took more than goods. They took a good man’s life. Tony sat beside me, his face illuminated by his phone’s screen, fingers swiping as he tried to make sense of the reports coming in. He was calm—too calm for my liking. How could he be so composed when another one of our shipments had been stolen? And now… someone was dead. A man who had been loyal for years, taken out like he was nothing. It made my blood boil. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Tony, how the hell did this happen?” My voice was low but filled with a fury I couldn’t contain. “Again? First, the shipments, and now they have the guts to kill one of our men?” Tony sighed, his phone lowering to his lap as he glanced at me. “Marco, you need t
MARCOThe night was heavy with tension as I turned slowly, the sound of my full name echoing in the cold air. The moment I faced her, I saw an elderly woman, frail and trembling, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the dim streetlights. She was dressed in black, a scarf tied tightly around her head, and her hands were wringing together in front of her as if she was holding back all her grief in those hands.“Chi sei?” I asked, my voice gruff, though I could feel the weight of her sorrow before she even spoke.Tony immediately stepped forward, putting himself between us. “Marco, I’ll handle this.”I raised my hand, motioning for him to step aside. Something about the woman pulled me in. Maybe it was the tears in her eyes, or maybe it was the way she stood there, unshaken by Tony’s intimidating stance. “Lasciala parlare, Tony,” I said quietly.The woman sniffed, stepping closer. “Sono… la madre,” she said, her voice breaking. “Mio figlio… il mio Paolo… mio figlio è morto!” Her words w
MARCODanzo leaned back in my chair, that smug grin still plastered across his face. I tried to tell myself he was just messing with me. Hell, maybe it was some twisted joke, his idea of humor after everything that had gone down tonight. But even I didn’t believe that. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm. “Danzo, get your ass up. Now.”He didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. Just stared at me with that infuriating look like he was daring me to do something about it. The tension in the room was thick, my patience thinning with every passing second.I gritted my teeth. “I’m giving you till the count of three to get the fuck out of my seat.” My tone was flat, but the threat was clear.“One…”Still nothing. He just blinked at me, like I wasn’t even worth the effort of a response.“Two…”I felt my hand twitch, the desire to drag him out of that chair growing stronger with each breath. My day had already been shot to hell. First, the lost shipment. Then, one of my best men, Paol
ISABELLAThe morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my private suite, casting golden light over the silk sheets of my king-sized bed. I stretched lazily, savoring the coolness of the fabric against my skin before reaching for the remote on my nightstand. With a press of a button, soft classical music filled the room, the kind that played in the background of the world’s most expensive penthouses. The kind that reminded me of power. Of control. Of exactly who I was.I slid out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush white carpet as I made my way toward the bathroom. Marble countertops, a freestanding tub, gold fixtures—everything hand-selected, everything perfect. I twisted the faucet, letting warm water spill into the sink before splashing my face gently. A morning cleanse, followed by an ice-cold jade roller against my skin. Every inch of my routine was precise, curated.Next came the serum. The kind infused with gold flecks, a favorite of European royalty.
MARCOSarah appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes scanning the room, and the moment she took in the sight before her, confusion flashed across her face. Then something else. Something unreadable. Her gaze drifted from the blood pooling on the floor to the doctor hunched over Aisha’s body, his hands moving fast, his jaw tight with focus. My men stood around, tense, waiting, their shoulders stiff with the weight of what had just gone down. The air was thick, the kind that pressed against your chest. But I barely noticed any of it.All I saw was Sarah.I moved toward the staircase, instinct taking over, ready to guide her down, but before I could reach for her, she stopped me with a small shake of her head.“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I can walk.”I hesitated for half a second before stepping back, watching her carefully as she descended. Her hands gripped the railing a little tighter than usual, and I could see the way her breath hitched as she got a closer look at the scene. The b
MARCOBlood was everywhere. Thick, dark, warm against my skin. It soaked through my fingers, through Aisha’s torn clothes, pooling on the leather seat beneath her. The metallic stench filled the SUV, mixing with the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt rubber. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, eyelids fluttering, skin sickly pale.“Stay awake,” I muttered, pressing my hand harder against the wound. “Don’t fucking pass out.”Her head lolled slightly, lips parting. “Can’t…”“You can,” I snapped. “You don’t get to bleed out here.”The Rossis were still on us, their engines snarling, the air filled with the rapid cracks of gunfire. Another window shattered. Glass sprayed across my arm, cutting into my skin, but I didn’t flinch. My focus was locked on Aisha and the goddamn blood leaking out of her too fast.Petrov yanked the wheel hard to the left, barely dodging a parked car. The SUV fishtailed, tires screeching, but he kept control, pushing forward.Tony was still hanging out the window, c
MARCOBang!Blood hit my face, warm and thick. The sound of Anton’s body slamming against the floor echoed in the room, his lifeless eyes still open, staring up at nothing. His mouth, which had been running nonstop just seconds ago, was frozen in shock. The pool of blood beneath him spread fast, the deep red spilling across the cracked tiles. The smell—sharp, metallic—filled the air, mixing with the lingering scent of gunpowder.I didn’t move. My chest was still tight, my breath locked in my throat. That bullet should’ve been for me.Tony stepped in, gun still raised, his eyes sweeping the room. He took one glance at Anton’s corpse, then at me. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Damn. Came in just in time, huh?”I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension still coiled in my muscles. My hand flexed involuntarily, the ghost of a gun still lingering in my grip. “Yeah… that was too fucking close.”Tony chuckled, sliding his gun back into its holster. “Close? Marco, you were done for.”I ran a hand ov
MARCOThe cold steel at the back of my head sent a sharp wave of irritation down my spine. Not fear. Irritation. Because I had checked. I had swept this place. I had been so sure I was alone in this room with Aisha. So where the fuck did this guy come from? How hadn’t I heard him move? No footsteps, no breath, no shift in the air. Nothing.I was still caught in that thought when the gun pressed harder against my skull.“What, you deaf?” The voice was deep, smooth, almost amused. “I said drop the gun.”Slow. Careful. I lowered my arm, fingers unwrapping from my weapon before I let it hit the ground. The second it did, the guy let out a short laugh.“That’s good,” he said, then I heard the scrape of his boot as he kicked my gun far out of reach.I clenched my jaw, but I didn’t move. My mind was already working, already cycling through every option, every opening, every mistake I had made to end up in this position.The man behind me let out another small chuckle, stepping closer.“Marco
MARCOThe second the lights cut out, my hand went straight for the knife. My fingers curled around the handle tight, the weight fitting into my palm like it was born there. I didn’t reach for the gun. Not yet. Guns made noise. Guns were for men who didn’t know how to move. I wasn’t here to spray bullets aimlessly and paint the whole place in blood unless I really had to.I moved low, sticking close to the wall. My breath steady. My heartbeat calm. The whole building was stirring into chaos — voices barking out orders, footsteps stomping around blindly in the dark. They didn’t know what hit them yet. The picture in my head stayed sharp. Every guard I clocked when I walked in. Every position. Every lazy hand resting too far from a trigger. I carried that image with me now as I crept through the shadows.The first two were exactly where I left them. By the columns. Flashlights flicking left and right, trying to cut through the darkness. Russian accents. I could hear the nervous edge in
ISABELLAThe room was drowning in silence — the kind that made your own thoughts feel louder than they should. The only sound cutting through was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.I paced from one end of the room to the other, heels clicking against the marble floor. My cigarette had burned out in the ashtray a long time ago, smoke still faintly curling from the filter. I hadn’t even realized I’d left it there.My eyes kept flicking to the phone on the table — screen black, still no calls. Every second that passed without a word from La Paloma only twisted the knife deeper in my chest.They should’ve called by now.I could feel it… that tight pull in my stomach. Something was happening.Marco was out there.Looking for her.I poured myself a glass of wine, but it barely made it halfway to my lips before I set it back down. My fingers tapped restlessly against the glass, my mind circling the same dark corner over and over again.If Marco found Aisha… if he got to her before w
MARCOThe city lights blurred through the tinted windows as we cruised down the highway. The engine hummed low, steady. Nobody was talking much, just the faint sound of the radio playing some old blues song under the noise of the tires slicing through wet road.I sat in the backseat, window cracked just enough to let the night air slip in. The blunt burned slow between my fingers — smoke curling up against the roof. I took a long drag, letting the smoke sit heavy in my chest before passing it forward.“Here… calm your nerves.”Tony snorted from the passenger seat, taking it without missing a beat.“Come on, Marco… what the fuck you think this is? First rodeo?” He puffed out a cloud, passing it straight to Petrov in the driver’s seat.Petrov grabbed it with a grin, eyes fixed on the road.“The man’s treating us like fresh meat.” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “I ain’t been nervous since Danzo’s funeral.”I couldn’t help the faint s
MARCOI sat back in my office, the glass swirling slow in my hand. The whiskey tasted bitter tonight — or maybe it was just me. The window stretched wide in front of me, showing the whole city flickering under the night. New York always looked peaceful from up here… but I knew better.The whole place was a ticking bomb.I watched the headlights crawling along the streets, the faint horns echoing through the night. Somewhere down there… someone was dying. Someone was making money. Someone was getting betrayed.This city doesn’t sleep.I let out a slow breath, tapping my finger against the rim of the glass. My chest felt heavier with every second ticking by. Tonight was going to change everything — one way or the other.I wasn’t scared.I’ve been in worse situations. Buried men with my own hands. Watched bodies bleed out inches away from me. I’ve done shit that still wakes me up at night.But tonight… it was different.Aisha.Her name had been drilling through my skull ever since Tony m