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