SARAHAs Marco pulled away from the kiss, I felt frozen in place, my heart still racing. I didn’t expect it to feel like that, to be that… intense. His eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I felt like I could drown in them. My heart was still craving more, wanting the moment to last longer, but just as quickly as it happened, he stood up, creating an uncomfortable distance between us.“I’ve been caught up in a lot lately,” Marco started, running a hand through his hair. His tone was softer, like he was trying to figure out how to say something without making things worse. I stayed silent, unsure of what to expect next.“We need a break,” he added, almost as if he were stating a fact, not making a suggestion.A break? My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Was this his way of saying we needed space? Had everything that just happened meant nothing to him? The whirlwind of emotions I’d just gone through came crashing down at his words, and I couldn’t help but feel confuse
MARCOSitting across from Carlos and Tony, I absently moved one of my pieces on the chessboard, half-listening as they rambled about the latest bars and clubs they’d been frequenting. It was the same old talk—places I hadn’t been to in ages. I wasn’t interested in all that anymore. There was always something more important to focus on.Carlos, always the loudest of the three of us, leaned forward, trying to get my attention. “You’re really missing out, Marco. You remember those nights? The drinks, the women, the music! Man, we used to own every spot we walked into.”I waved him off with a small laugh. “Those days are behind me, Carlos. I’ll pass. I’ve got more important things to deal with.”Tony cut in, smirking as he moved his rook across the board. “Of course, you’d turn it down. You’re always buried in work these days, Marco. But seriously, you gotta cut loose sometime. You don’t wanna be that guy who only works and forgets how to live.”I watched as Tony’s knight threatened one o
SARAHAs I stepped out of the shower, the steam clung to the mirror, blurring my reflection. I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my body before reaching for the lotion and moisturizer. The routine of applying these things was almost mindless, but today, I found myself pausing more than once, replaying Marco’s words in my head. “Get ready, we’ll be leaving in the afternoon,” he had said, as if this was just another day, as if this was normal for us. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it—Marco, taking me on a vacation?I shook my head, rubbing the lotion into my skin as I glanced at my reflection. My hair was still wet, clinging to my shoulders as I tried to piece together how this was going to play out. Was this really happening? Was Marco actually… trying?The last few days had been a whirlwind. One minute, we were barely speaking, and the next, he’s apologizing for everything and booking a trip. A tiny part of me hoped this was real, that maybe Marco was changing, but I couldn’t
SARAHStepping outside, I saw Marco just standing there, frozen. His eyes widened, his mouth parted slightly, and for a split second, I wasn’t sure if he was breathing. It felt like time stretched on forever as he stared at me, and I shifted slightly, feeling a little self-conscious.“Marco?” I said softly, trying to break the tension with a small laugh. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you planning to open the door?”That seemed to snap him out of his daze. He blinked, rubbed his eyes as if he was waking up from a dream, and cleared his throat. “Right, sorry,” he mumbled, hurrying to open the car door. He stopped briefly before reaching the handle and turned to me. “It’s just… wow, Sarah. You look incredible.”I blushed, not entirely sure how to respond. Compliments from Marco didn’t come often, and when they did, they usually felt like a setup for something else. But this… this sounded different, genuine.“Thank you,” I replied softly, feeling warmth creep up my cheeks. It
SARAHThe hum of the jet engines was softer than I imagined. It was almost like a lullaby in the background, comforting and steady. I sat back in the plush seat, sinking into the leather, letting the reality of everything sink in. This was my first time on a plane—ever. And not just any plane—a private jet. It was overwhelming, in the best way possible.Outside the window, the sky stretched wide and endless, with streaks of pink and orange starting to appear as the sun began its slow descent. I stared at the clouds, mesmerized by how small everything seemed from up here. Tiny patches of land, rivers snaking their way across the earth, and oceans that looked like pools of shimmering blue. It was breathtaking.Marco, sitting across from me, was focused on his phone, speaking in low tones as he handled call after call. I barely noticed him; I was too caught up in the sights, pressing my face to the glass like a kid seeing the world for the first time. I was, in a way.At one point, Marco
SARAHI lay back on the bed, sinking into the soft pillows, the gentle hum of the ceiling fan creating a comforting background noise. After unpacking some of my things, I decided to take a break. I glanced around the luxurious suite, still in awe of how perfect everything looked. The soft, muted colors of the room, the ocean view from the balcony, the subtle scent of fresh flowers—it all felt like a dream.I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a book that had been left in the suite. I wasn’t really in the mood to read, but it was something to keep my mind occupied while I waited for Marco. Flipping through the pages absentmindedly, I found myself staring at the words without actually absorbing them.My mind kept wandering back to Marco. We were supposed to be here together, yet from the moment we landed, he was more focused on work than anything else. I sighed, closing the book and tossing it aside. I could feel a mix of frustration and disappointment building up inside me. I d
SARAHLunch had started off quietly enough. The dishes that kept coming out of the kitchen were nothing short of impressive. Every course felt like a tiny masterpiece—each one more luxurious than the last. I couldn’t help but marvel at how extravagant this whole trip had become. I mean, really, this was almost too much. Who needs lobster for lunch? But the nagging feeling that Marco was up to something sat at the back of my mind, gnawing at me between bites.I was trying to relax, trying to take it all in. But there was something about the way Marco was acting—too calm, too composed. He was always the one to throw a curveball when you least expected it, and I could feel one coming.As the waiter placed down a beautifully arranged plate of seafood, Marco raised an eyebrow at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief.“Gonna eat that? Or just admire it?” he teased, that familiar smirk pulling at his lips.I shot him a playful glare, picking up my fork. “I’m not sure. It’s almost too pretty t
SARAHThe moment felt surreal. I sat there, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the band had just dedicated a song to me in front of all these people. I could feel every single eye in the room on me—strangers smiling, whispering, probably wondering who I was and why Marco had orchestrated such an elaborate surprise. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. How had I ended up here, in the middle of this?I glanced at Marco, who was looking back at me with the biggest grin plastered across his face. He was practically beaming with pride, clearly enjoying my reaction, while I was just trying to keep myself from completely melting into the floor. I shook my head in disbelief, unable to suppress the small smile that crept onto my lips despite the overwhelming nerves I was feeling.“You’re absolutely unbelievable,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady as I leaned closer to him. “What length on earth won’t you go to just to be extr
MARCELI kicked back in my chair, boots up on the desk, glass of whiskey hanging loose in my hand. The oak groaned under me, but I didn’t give a damn. I earned this seat. I earned everything. Sarah was mine now. Marco? That bastard was a ghost, a scared little whisper hiding in the dark, too broken to come for her.I took a slow sip, letting the burn roll down my throat, and smiled to myself. All the noise, all the fight she had when we first grabbed her… it was fading. Day by day. I saw it in her eyes. Less spark. Less bite. She was still holding on to Marco, sure. But that wouldn’t last. It never did. Not when you had no one left to believe in. Not when all the walls closed in.All I needed was time. Time and a little patience. Women like her, they didn’t fall easy — but when they did, they fell hard. I’d treat her good once she saw it. Once she stopped looking at me like I was the enemy. She didn’t get it yet, but she would. I’d give her everything. New clothes, good food, no more
MARCOAs we moved closer to the warehouse, the world around us shifted. No more breathing room. No more second chances. I lifted my hand, fingers moving in sharp signals the team knew by heart. Petrov and Gio broke off fast, slipping into the tree line to handle the chaos. Their job was simple: create enough noise, enough blood, to keep Marcel’s eyes off me. My job was simpler. Get to Sarah. Bring her home.I moved ahead, leading my half of the team. Tony and Denis stayed tight behind me, heading toward the wing where Denis swore they kept her. The woods around us swallowed the sound of our boots, every step careful, every move sharp. The cold night clung to my skin, biting a little, but I welcomed it. It kept me awake. It kept me locked in.Up ahead, a small light flickered behind a tree line. I crouched low, holding my fist up to stop the others. Two guards patrolled near the inner fence, walking lazy, rifles slung low, no care in their step.I looked at Tony and jerked my chin towa
MARCOThe safehouse stank of sweat and gun oil. It had been a day now. One long, heavy day. I stood over the table, arms braced against the wood, staring down at the maps, the grainy photos, the scribbled notes we had piled together. Every street, every guard rotation, every weak spot Marcel thought he hid. It was all laid out in front of me like a body waiting for burial.The guys were scattered around the room, geared up. Tony sat sharpening a knife that didn’t need sharpening. Gio leaned against the wall, checking his pistol again and again. Petrov stood by the window, looking out like he expected hell to pull up in a car. Denis was at the far end of the table, hands flat, answering the last of our questions like a man who knew his life depended on it. It did.“Alright,” I said, my voice steady even if everything inside me was screaming. “One more time.”I tapped the map with the tip of my finger. “We roll in here. Two SUVs. No fancy shit. We stay fast, clean. Denis says the east f
ISABELLAI sat near the window with a half-full glass of wine, legs crossed, posture easy. Outside, the yard stretched quiet under soft light, the fences glowing under the dim wash of security lamps. The wind barely moved. Even the trees felt too still. It looked like peace, but it wasn’t. It was something else. Something pretending to be calm.Behind me, Marcel was laughing, his voice bouncing off the walls like this place was some damn hotel and not the cage it really was. Two of his men stood with him, drinking, cracking jokes like they didn’t have a care in the world. That’s what bothered me. They weren’t tense like they used to be. There was no edge in the air. No clipped words or extra rounds being loaded. Just pride. Stupid, loud pride.Marcel turned a bit, speaking louder now, wanting me to hear. “You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He never does. “I think Marco’s done. Crawled into whatever hole he came out of, dragging his tail behind him. Wallowing in that
SARAHThe cold woke me before the pain did. My body was already curled tight, but it didn’t help. The chill still found its way into my bones, into my stomach, into everything. I tried to stretch, just a little, but my back screamed and my legs cramped. My head throbbed with that dull pressure that never really left. I didn’t even open my eyes right away. I just laid there, breathing through it, waiting for the nausea to pass.I was starving. And still, the idea of food made my stomach twist. It wasn’t just the baby. It was the food they brought. Cold, bland, rough like they’d scraped it off the bottom of a pan and tossed it at me out of pity. Or worse, duty. I’d thrown it up more than once. Now I just took small bites and held it down as long as I could. My throat stayed dry. My mouth too. I’d started cutting what little food I got into pieces, counting the bites like that somehow helped. It didn’t. But it gave me something to do, something to control.I turned onto my side slowly. T
MARCOThe city was already buzzing by the time I stepped into the club. Word had spread like it always did when there was fire involved. Loud. Messy. Unavoidable. The warehouse attack I sent Gio on didn’t just go up in smoke, it sent the exact message I wanted it to, just the one we wanted out there.I kept my head down as I moved past the crowd. Familiar faces, familiar noise. A few of my guys were already drinking like nothing happened, laughing like we hadn’t just made the loudest move in weeks. All part of the script. They were playing their roles. I was about to play mine.I slid into the usual booth in the back. Dark corner. Good view of the whole room. I threw my coat beside me and knocked on the table once. Bartender looked over, already moving.“Double,” I said when he got close, tapping the glass down like I needed it more than air. “And don’t stop unless I say.”Tony was leaning against the wall by the booth, arms crossed, eyes scanning the floor. He always looked like he w
MARCOThe room was quiet. Real quiet. The kind where you can hear someone blink. Denis sat across from me, hands on his knees, eyes low. Petrov leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Tony stood by the window, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping the frame like he couldn’t stand still.I didn’t say much. I just stared at Denis. Made him squirm a little. He knew what was expected.“You can start talking,” I finally said.His head jerked up like I pulled him out of a bad dream. He looked at each of us. Then down again.“Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll talk.”He took a breath. Then it all started pouring out.“Marcel’s base isn’t at the club. That’s just his face. The real spot’s a compound in the industrial zone, the one behind the fake textile plant. Everything happens there. The trucks, the drops, the meetings.”I didn’t move. I kept watching him. Trying to see if he was holding anything back.“There’s a basement setup. Clean. Sealed. That’s where he’s keeping her. Sara
MARCELThe city looked soft from up here. All that noise, all that movement, and still, it bowed. I stood at the window in my suite, cup in hand, nothing but silence around me. That was the kind of power I liked. Quiet. Steady. It meant everything was still running how I wanted it.The espresso was hot, bitter, smooth. Just how I liked it. The robe hung loose on my shoulders. I didn’t need armor in my own kingdom. Marco was definitely out there throwing tantrums, yelling into the wind, kicking at doors no one opened. He thought if he made enough noise, something would shake loose. But that’s all it was, noise. His people were scrambling. Mine were planted.I set the cup down as I went to freshen up. I had a meeting to attend. The new head of the Rossi family.. young, loud, trying to act like he had his brother's shoes on, but everyone in the room could see the fit was wrong. He needed to be reminded who still ran the rhythm of this city.I picked a black suit. Simple. Heavy fabric. N
MARCOI stared at the dartboard across the room. Three darts were stuck in it. One near the bullseye, two scattered like they were thrown without care. I hadn’t touched it in a week. Didn’t feel like playing games. Not until we had something real.The room was quiet, just the sound of the coffee pot clicking under the small warmer. I poured myself a cup, black, no sugar. I needed to stay sharp. Petrov said he had gotten Denis, I could feel it. Something about tonight told me this was it. This was the closest I had been to getting Sarah back.I cracked my knuckles and leaned on the edge of the table, still staring at that board. One dart for Denis. One for Marcel. One for Isabella. That last one would get replaced soon, maybe with a blade. I smiled at that thought.A knock came at the door. I didn’t even turn around.“Yeah?”It was one of the guys from the main floor. “Boss. Petrov’s back. He says he’s downstairs. Dungeon.”I took one more sip of coffee and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go s