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 engine went silent as the car came to a halt, and I stepped out, taking in the sight of the venue. It was a wide, open space, not the kind of place you’d expect for a secretive meeting of the city’s top mob bosses. But that was the thing with the Red Table—they always knew how to play things close to the vest. No obvious signs of anything shady going on. Just an innocent-looking building that could have been a high-end restaurant for all anyone outside would know.I glanced over at Tony as he stepped out of the car behind me. His expression was calm, but I knew him well enough to catch the slight tension in his movements. I asked, “Petrov got eyes on the place?”Tony nodded, checking his phone. “Yeah, he’s got the perimeter covered. We’ve got men positioned in case things go sideways.”“Good.” I took a moment to scan the area again, making sure there wasn’t anything out of place. Couldn’t be too careful. These types of meetings, you never knew who was playing what angle.We
SARAHI sat there on the couch, watching the TV screen flicker with the latest episode of a show I’d started binging. Honestly, this series had become one of the few things keeping me entertained lately. With all the craziness going on outside, it was nice to escape into someone else’s drama for a change, even if it was fictional. The lead character was right in the middle of a heated argument, her face scrunched up in anger, and I couldn’t help but smirk at how intense it all was. At least her problems could be solved by the end of an episode.Mine? Not so much.I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, taking comfort in the familiar chaos of the show. It was weird, you know? I used to have a lot more going on. Parties, dinners, trips. But now? I might as well just enjoy this little slice of distraction. The maids had already left for the night, and the guards, well… they’d been patrolling the house like hawks for days now. I couldn’t really ignore how tense everything had become.
SARAHI hesitated at the door to Marco’s office, my hand resting on the cold brass handle. My heart raced with uncertainty. What could have possibly made him yell my name like that? It was so unlike him. I thought of all the possible scenarios, but none of them felt right.I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.There he was, standing by the window, his back to me. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. Marco didn’t say anything, didn’t turn around. He just stood there in silence, his posture stiff, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.I stepped into the room, my feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. “Marco?” My voice came out softer than I intended, shaky even. “Why did you call me?”He didn’t answer.I waited a moment, then asked again, a little firmer this time. “Marco, what’s going on?”He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at me over his shoulder. His face was hard, unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark
MARCOAs soon as Sarah slammed the door behind her, the silence hit me like a wave. I stood frozen in the room, my mind racing. What the hell had I just done?I felt the heat rise in my face, my chest tightening as anger burned inside me, but this time it wasn’t aimed at anyone else. It was all on me.You’re a fool, Marco. I thought, pacing back and forth, raking my hands through my hair. You stupid, stupid fool.I wanted to scream, punch something, make it all go away, but nothing would fix what I had just done. Sarah had looked at me like I was a stranger. No, worse—like I was a monster. And maybe I was. I had slapped her. The woman who had done nothing but love me, who had stood by me when everything else was falling apart. And I had hit her.“What the hell is wrong with you?” I muttered to myself, my voice thick with self-loathing. I stopped in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. The man looking back at me wasn’t the man Sarah had grown to fall in love with. He was cold
SARAHI folded the last of the clothes, smoothing out the creases as I placed it neatly on the bed. The room was quiet, too quiet, and I could feel the thoughts creeping in again. No matter how much I tried to keep myself busy, to find something—anything—to focus on, my mind kept circling back to Marco. To everything he had done. To everything he was.I shook my head, mocking myself for even allowing the thought that he might change to settle in my mind. What a joke, I thought bitterly, how stupid was I to believe that there was any chance of him becoming a better person?I couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped my lips. After everything he’d put me through, how could I have been so naive? I had let myself fall into this trap, let myself see something in him that wasn’t there. Maybe it was the few good moments, the small gestures that made me believe for just a second that he might be capable of change. But deep down, I knew better.I should’ve known better.I remembered the beginning,