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
MARCOMy fists pounded against the heavy bag, each strike landing with a dull thud that echoed through the gym. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my muscles burning, but I didn’t stop. The anger that churned in my chest had to go somewhere, and this was the best way I knew how to deal with it. I thought about all the people I’d lost lately. Good men. Honest men. And for what? Some power play, some twisted game of control. My knuckles ached, but the pain felt good. It reminded me that I was still here, still fighting. “Marco,” Tony’s voice cut through the sound of my fists against the bag. I glanced over at him, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.“What is it?” I asked, not really in the mood for whatever news he was about to bring me.Tony held up my phone, a serious look on his face. “It’s a call. From the Red Table.”I paused, letting the bag sway in front of me as I processed his words. The Red Table. A group of the most powerful men in the city, the heads of th
MARCOThe flashbang was still working its magic as I stumbled forward, my vision blurry and my ears ringing like an alarm clock from hell. But there was no time to wait for things to settle. The moment the light hit, I felt the chaos erupt behind me—grunts, shouts, the clatter of boots on the floor.Instinct kicked in. The first guy behind me was flailing around, clutching his face like someone had poured hot sauce directly into his eyes. I took the opportunity, jabbing my elbow into his ribs with enough force to knock the air out of him. He let out a strangled wheeze and crumpled like a cheap folding chair.Unfortunately, his buddy wasn’t as incapacitated. The second man had somehow managed to pull out his gun, though he was aiming like he’d never used his eyes a day in his life. The first shot rang out, going wide and hitting a piece of metal somewhere to my left.“Great aim, sharpshooter,” I muttered, yanking the first guy’s body up as a human shield. The next shot hit him square i
MARCOI stared at the scene before me, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets. Tony lay crumpled on the floor, motionless, and Petrov wasn’t faring any better. My eyes darted back to Danzo, standing tall and smug, his expression carved with triumph. His words echoed in my head, striking me like a hammer with every repetition: This is where your poor planning has gotten you.Poor planning.Was that really it? Was it my fault that Tony and Petrov had been brought to this state? That Sarah was here, caught in Danzo’s grasp, her wide, fearful eyes pleading silently for a rescue I wasn’t sure I could give?You should’ve seen this coming, Marco, I thought bitterly.Danzo had been working against me from the shadows, a viper I had failed to notice until it was too late. But was it just him? Had I been so blind, so arrogant, to think that I had anticipated everything? My chest tightened as my mind spiraled further.Tony’s bloodied face flashed in my mind, followed by Petrov’s ragged brea
MARCO“Tony!” I choked out, the word barely escaping my lips as I turned toward the source.He was on the ground, his body crumpled awkwardly, blood pouring from his side. The crimson stain spread across the floor, pooling beneath him like some sick painting. My heart stopped as I stared at the scene, every ounce of air in my lungs evaporating.“No… no, no, no,” I stammered, stepping back instinctively, my boot catching in the slick blood pooling around him. I staggered, almost falling, my mind spinning.“Tony!” I called again, my voice cracking as if saying his name louder would wake him, make him look at me, make him respond. But he didn’t. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his eyes fluttering as if he was fighting to stay conscious.Danzo’s laugh broke through the chaos—a guttural, maniacal cackle that made my blood boil.“Ah, the mighty Marco. Look at you now,” he sneered. His voice was sharp, cutting through my panic like a razor. “I told you, didn’t I? You thin
MARCOThe air in the room crackled with tension as I leveled the gun at Danzo, my finger firm against the trigger. He took a step back, his eyes darting between me and the scattered bodies of his men. For a second, I thought I saw fear, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by that damn smirk he always wore, like he still had the upper hand.“It’s over for you, Danzo,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through me. “You might want to think twice before doing anything stupid.”He scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. His hand twitched near his side, hovering too close to the gun strapped there.“I mean it!” I barked, raising my voice. “You even so much as look at that gun, and you’ll die here, right now. No last words. No bargaining. Just done.”Danzo froze for a heartbeat, his hand still dangerously close to his weapon. “You don’t have it in you, Marco,” he sneered. “You think you’re the tough one, don’t you? You think you’re the hero in all of this?”“Shut up.” My
MARCOThe sound of gunfire outside was getting closer, louder. Each shot echoed like a drumbeat of inevitability, and I could see the panic setting in on Danzo’s face. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for an escape that wasn’t there.“You hear that, Danzo?” I said, leaning back in my chair. My wrists were still tied, but my voice was steady. “That’s the sound of your grand plan crumbling. Everything you set up here? It’s falling apart. And you’re dying here today.”Danzo’s head snapped toward me, his jaw tightening. For a second, he looked like he was going to lunge at me, but he held back. Instead, he pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt, his fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white.“Status!” he barked into the device, pacing in tight circles like a cornered animal. “What’s going on out there?”There was a pause on the other end, filled with static and the faint sound of chaos—shouting, gunfire, something heavy crashing to the ground. Finally, a vo
MARCO The ropes around my wrists burned as I strained against them, my jaw tight enough to crack a tooth. Danzo paced back and forth like a predator toying with its prey, his smirk wide and arrogant. His voice dripped with satisfaction, every word landing like a calculated blow. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he said, pausing to glance at me. “All this… it’s personal, Marco. You made it personal the moment you threw me to the wolves.” I stared him down, refusing to let the venom in his words show any effect. “You think I’m afraid of you?” “Oh, I don’t need you to be afraid. Not yet, anyway,” he said, laughing softly. “But you should be. You always underestimated me, Marco. Always thought I’d stay in your shadow, didn’t you?” I said nothing, focusing instead on Sarah, who sat just a few feet away, bound and trembling. Her eyes met mine, and the fear in them sliced through me like a blade. Danzo followed my gaze and chuckled darkly. “Ah, yes. The princess. Don’t worry, Ma
MARCOThe goons gathered my weapons with smug satisfaction, tossing them onto the floor like trophies. My knife. My Glock. The backup pistol. Each piece felt like a part of me being stripped away. I clenched my jaw as the masked man stooped to pick up my gun. He held it up to the dim light, turning it over in his hand like he’d just found buried treasure.“Nice piece,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he inspected the setup. “Who’s your plug, Marco? This stuff’s top-tier. Custom job? Or do you just know the right people?”I didn’t respond, glaring at him in silence. My hands itched to grab it back, to feel the weight of it in my palm, but my wrists were bound tightly behind my back.“Not much of a talker, are you?” he continued, pacing slowly in front of me. He raised the gun and mimed aiming it, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. This feels good. Might keep it. Hope you don’t mind.”I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I focused on what they hadn’t found—the tiny chip in my boo
MARCOThe silence inside the narrow hallway was almost unbearable. The dim, flickering light above me buzzed faintly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. My boots clicked softly on the metal floor as I moved further in, my breaths shallow and controlled. Every step felt heavier than the last, each one carrying me deeper into uncertainty.“Petrov,” I whispered, pressing a finger to the mic in my ear. “Petrov, can you hear me?”Nothing. Just static.I paused, my heart thudding harder as the realization hit me. The connection was dead. Whether it was deliberate or accidental, I was on my own now.“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the hallway for any sign of movement. My hand instinctively drifted toward the gun hidden beneath my jacket. I didn’t pull it out yet, but just feeling its presence steadied me a little. Whatever was waiting for me here, I wasn’t about to face it unarmed.The hallway stretched further ahead, leading to an open door on the left. The sh
MARCOThe night air clung to me like a heavy cloak, thick with tension and the metallic scent of salt from the nearby docks. As I stepped out of the car, the first thing I did was adjust the mic in my ear. Petrov’s faint voice buzzed briefly in the connection, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. But still, the silence surrounding me felt absolute, broken only by the distant hum of machinery and the soft crunch of gravel under my boots.My hand hovered close to my side, grazing the cold steel of the gun tucked under my jacket. I didn’t draw it, not yet, but the feel of it was a small comfort. The shipyard was a maze of shadows and towering containers, each one a potential hiding place. My eyes darted left, then right, sweeping for movement. Nothing. Not yet.“Marco, can you hear me?” Petrov’s voice crackled in my ear, low but clear.I pressed the mic lightly. “Loud and clear.”“Good,” he replied. “We’ve got eyes on the perimeter. Cameras are feeding us everything in real t