SARAHI woke up with a jolt, my head pounding like a drum. The sharp pain was unbearable, and my vision was blurry. I tried to blink it away, but everything still seemed off, like I was seeing through a fog. I felt nauseous, my stomach churning in waves that made me want to throw up.I groaned, trying to lift my hand to my forehead to massage away the ache, but I couldn’t move. I blinked again, more aware now, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Something was wrong. My arms… they were tied. I tried to jerk my wrists free, but they were bound tightly. I was sitting on a cold, hard surface, my back pressed against something solid, and both my wrists were tied behind me.“What the—?” I whispered, the panic slowly creeping in as I tugged at the ropes binding me. I looked down at myself, and that’s when I realized: I had no idea where I was. The room was dim, shadows filling every corner. The air was thick and musty, and the silence was deafening.How did I get here?It was like a flo
SARAHThe sound of the key twisting in the lock sent a fresh wave of panic surging through me. My heart was pounding so hard, it was deafening. Who was it? Was someone here to rescue me, or had the person who kidnapped me come back to finish the job? My thoughts spiraled, and I felt frozen, locked in place, eyes glued to the door as it creaked open. I squinted into the dim light, trying to make out the figure standing there. For a moment, it was just a blur, the flickering light from the lone bulb above casting eerie shadows on the walls. But as the person stepped forward, the light hit his face, and my heart leapt.“Carlos?” I gasped, a mix of relief and confusion in my voice. It was him—Marco’s right-hand man. Relief washed over me. “Carlos, thank God! I was kidnapped, I don’t know how I got here, but you have to help me!” My words came out in a rush, stumbling over each other. I tugged at the ropes around my wrists, desperate to be free. He didn’t move. He just stood there, stari
MARCOI spent the last day glued to the hotel’s CCTV footage, running it over and over again, trying to find a trace—*anything*—that could lead me to Sarah. But whoever had taken her was smart, almost too smart. The camera caught a dark figure once, a shadow slipping into a car outside the lobby. I couldn’t make out a face, nothing identifiable. It was like the guy knew the place inside out, maneuvering between blind spots like he had a blueprint in his head. Every corner, every hallway he avoided, it was like he was a ghost.I slammed my hand down on the table, frustration bubbling up inside me. My mind was racing, going through every possible lead, but all I kept coming back to was that damn blurry footage."What the hell am I missing?" I muttered to myself, pacing back and forth in the small hotel room. The silence felt suffocating. I couldn’t just sit here. Every second I waited felt like time slipping away from Sarah.And then, my phone rang. I grabbed it off the table without ev
MARCOI paced back and forth, the text still open on my phone. My eyes scanned the same words over and over, my brain trying to process them while my body vibrated with fury and desperation.“We have your darling Sarah. Once we’re done with her, we’ll be ready to negotiate. We’re going to have a lot of fun with her before then.”The idea of someone touching her—hurting her—made my blood run cold, and then it boiled over into rage. I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t just stand here, doing nothing. Every second wasted felt like another second Sarah was closer to being lost. And it was my fault. I should have protected her. I should have seen this coming.The phone was in my hand before I realized it, and I dialed Petrov’s number, my fingers moving with a mind of their own. The moment I heard his voice on the other end of the line, I didn’t waste time with pleasantries.“Petrov,” I growled, my voice harsh and urgent. “I got a text.”There was a brief pause on the other end. “What kin
MARCOI sat behind the wheel, staring at the dashboard, my fingers gripping the leather so hard my knuckles turned white. The weight of the gun pressed against my side, cold and solid, a reminder of what I was about to do. I never thought it would come to this. Not here, not on what was supposed to be a vacation. But I had no choice.I punched in the location Petrov sent me into the GPS, watching as the route appeared on the screen. The distance didn’t matter. I would drive across the entire island, hell, across the entire world, if it meant finding Sarah. My wife—taken, held by some faceless bastards, probably hurt. That thought alone was enough to make my blood boil.As I pulled out onto the road, my phone buzzed again. Another message from Petrov. More names. More places. The list was getting longer by the minute. He was working fast, combing through every bit of information he could find. I couldn’t complain, but every ping of the phone reminded me how little time we had. Sarah wa
MARCOI narrowed my eyes, my hand still hovering near the grip of my gun. Rico looked pale, his eyes darting around like a trapped animal. I wasn’t sure if I could trust a single word out of his mouth, but I needed to press him again, just to be certain.“Are you absolutely sure it’s Carlos?” I asked, my voice cold and hard. “Because if you’re lying, Rico, I swear you won’t be walking out of here. You’ll be dead before you hit the floor.”Rico swallowed hard, his hands trembling. “I’m not lying, I swear to God, Marco! It’s Carlos! Everyone around here knows not to mess with him and the old guy. Please, I don’t want any trouble, I’m just telling you what I heard!”I stared at him, my mind racing. Carlos? Could it really be him? The thought gnawed at me, twisting everything I thought I knew. I didn’t want to believe it. Rico could be scared, desperate to throw anyone under the bus. But if he was telling the truth… If Carlos was really involved…I couldn’t stand there any longer. “Get ou
I arrived at the bar earlier than planned. It was tucked away on a quiet street near the marina, the kind of place where tourists barely trickled in, and locals came to drink away the island heat. The sun was starting to set, casting a burnt-orange glow over the water, but I wasn’t here for the view.I parked the car and leaned back in my seat, staring at the entrance. The bar was calm, almost empty, just a few patrons scattered at the tables outside, sipping drinks, enjoying the breeze. It was the perfect place for a conversation—one that could go south fast.*Carlos.* I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t want to. The man had been like family to me. We’d built our operation from the ground up, weathered storms that would’ve crushed lesser men. And now? Now, he was somehow tied to Sarah’s kidnapping. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted this to be some huge misunderstanding. But every sign pointed to him, and I wasn’t about to ignore it.I pulled my gun from the glove compartm
MARCOI took off after Carlos, barely pausing to check my surroundings as I followed him out of the bar and down the dimly lit street. The cold moon cast long shadows on the pavement, but all I could see was Carlos, his figure cutting through the crowds as he darted ahead, weaving past tourists and locals who threw confused glances in his direction. He was moving fast, but I was faster, each step pounding into the ground as I zeroed in on him.“Carlos!” I shouted, my voice raw with anger and adrenaline. “You’re only making this worse! Stop!”He didn’t even look back. Instead, he picked up speed, his legs pumping harder, as though the very sound of my voice put fuel in his veins. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself harder. The chase stretched on, the distance between us shortening then lengthening, like some sick, twisted game of cat and mouse. He dodged around a family stepping out of a store, nearly colliding with a little girl, and I saw him throw a quick apology over his shoulder be
SARAHI woke up feeling a little lighter, the tension from yesterday not completely gone but dulled enough to let me breathe. I stretched, letting the faint morning light seep into my room before heading to the bathroom. A warm shower was exactly what I needed to set the tone for the day.After drying off, I opened my wardrobe to pick out a dress, only to freeze. Something was off. The neatly arranged rows of clothes I’d spent time organizing were disheveled, with hangers out of place and garments folded in ways I would never fold them. My brow furrowed as I scanned the wardrobe again.“What the hell…” I muttered under my breath.I pushed aside a row of dresses, checking the back for anything missing. My eyes landed on an empty spot where one of my scarves used to hang. Confused, I stepped back, trying to recall the last time I’d used it. Shaking my head, I moved to the drawers and opened the one that held my jewelry.That’s when I noticed it—my bracelet was gone.I stared at the empt
SARAHAs I walked down the hallway, the house felt different—like someone had been here, touching things that didn’t belong to them. It was subtle at first. A throw pillow on the couch was slightly off-center, its crisp lines disturbed. The vase I had carefully placed on the mini table in the living room was now perched on the corner of the mantle.I frowned, stopping mid-step to glance around. I hadn’t moved it. No one ever moved anything in this house unless I told them to. The staff knew better than to tamper with my things.Who was behind this?I shook my head, forcing myself to keep walking, but the unease stayed with me. By the time I reached the kitchen, I was determined to find some kind of distraction. I'd rather be hanging around in the kitchen than seeing him. Avoiding him right now felt far more important.Martha was there, wiping down the counters with practiced efficiency. She turned as I entered, her face lighting up with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” she greet
SARAHI stood in the middle of my room, staring at the slight mess I’d made over the past few days. Clothes were draped over the chair in the corner, some hanging halfway to the floor, and a stack of books leaned precariously on my nightstand. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t neat either. Still, cleaning seemed like the best way to keep my mind from spiraling. Anything was better than sitting here and stewing over Isabella and her smug, self-satisfied attitude—or Marco, with his infuriatingly calm demeanor, like nothing in the world could touch him.I grabbed a shirt off the chair and folded it with a little more force than necessary, tucking it into the drawer. The movement was brisk, almost aggressive, but it felt good. At least this, I could control. Folding clothes, organizing, tidying—it was simple and didn’t come with strings attached.“The Isabella situation,” I muttered under my breath as I grabbed another shirt. That’s what I’d been calling it in my head. It sounded clinic
*********Isabella closed the door behind her and let out a long, satisfied sigh. Her eyes scanned the room—the guest room, as they called it—but to her, it was so much more. This wasn’t just a room; it was her victory. A smile spread across her face as she walked toward the bed and sat down, sinking into the plush comforter.“I did it,” she whispered to herself, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. “I finally did it.”She leaned back on her hands, her gaze traveling across the walls and furniture. The room was simple, tasteful, but it lacked her personal touch. That would change soon enough. She wasn’t just a guest anymore; this was her territory now.“Finally,” she said aloud, a giggle escaping her lips. “This house, this life—it’s all coming together. And Sarah…” Her lips curled into a smirk as she thought of the other woman’s reaction earlier. “Poor, sweet Sarah. She hasn’t even seen the half of it yet.”The memory of the DNA test flashed in her mind. The way the doctor had read
SARAHI stormed through the gates, my entire body trembling with fury. The guards, who were always so polite and attentive, straightened as I approached. One of them opened his mouth to speak.“Ma’am, is Mr. Marco—”“Don’t!” I snapped, not even sparing him a glance. My voice was sharp enough to cut steel, and he instantly stepped back, his mouth shutting with a click. I didn’t owe anyone answers, not now, not ever.My heels clattered violently against the driveway as I marched to the house, every step fueled by the storm brewing inside me. I reached the front door, slammed it open with such force that it echoed through the entryway, and stalked straight toward my room.The staff turned to look, their faces filled with confusion and concern. I didn’t care. Let them look. Let them whisper. I was done holding it all together.When I reached my bedroom, I pushed the door open and then slammed it shut behind me, twisting the lock hard enough that it felt like it might break. The click was
SARAHThe moment the doctor uttered those words, my entire world tilted on its axis. I stared at him, frozen in disbelief, his voice ringing in my ears like an unrelenting echo.“The results of the DNA test confirm that Mr Marco is the biological father of the child.”My heartbeat quickened, pounding so hard I could feel it reverberating in my chest. I blinked, my eyes darting between Marco, the doctor, and Isabella, desperately searching for some sign that this was a cruel joke. But there was no humor here—only cold, stark reality.“This… this can’t be true,” I muttered, my voice trembling, barely recognizable. My hands clutched the edge of my chair, my knuckles white. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”The doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression calm but unyielding. “Ms. Sarah, I can assure you that—”“No!” I interrupted, my voice louder, almost desperate. “You must’ve gotten the samples mixed up. You—You have to check again.” I turned to Marco, who sat silent and motionles
SARAHI woke up feeling lighter than I had in days. Today was the day. The day we’d finally be free of Isabella’s twisted games. The DNA results would expose her lies, and Marco and I could finally move forward without her constant manipulations hanging over us like a dark cloud.I got out of bed and headed downstairs, eager to see Marco. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I spotted him near the door, pulling on his jacket. His face was calm, focused, the same determined look he always wore when he was ready to handle something important.“Heading to the hospital?” I asked, a small smile creeping onto my face.Marco glanced at me, his expression softening just slightly. “Yeah. It’s about time we put an end to this.”I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Good. I can’t wait to see the look on Isabella’s face when she’s caught in her own web of lies.”He chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to stress about this, Sarah. It’s not going to be that big a deal. Once the truth comes out,
SARAHI sat alone in the waiting room, tapping my fingers against the armrest of the chair. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, and the sterile white walls did nothing to calm my nerves. I tried to distract myself by looking around—at the posters on the walls about healthy eating, the muted television playing some medical drama, and the occasional nurse or patient walking by—but none of it worked. My thoughts were a mess.Marco had stepped out to speak with the nurse, leaving me here to stew in my own anxiety. I hated waiting like this, not knowing what was happening or what might come next. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my eyes darting toward the door Marco had disappeared through.Then, I heard voices. Faint at first, but as I strained my ears, I realized it was Marco and the nurse talking.“…nothing to worry about,” the nurse was saying.My heart quickened. I leaned slightly in their direction, trying to catch more of their conversation.“Are you sure?” Marco’s voice
SARAHHere’s the expanded scene based on your outline:The ride to the hospital was painfully quiet. Marco had his hands firmly on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he focused on the road ahead. I sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window, trying to ignore the sound of Isabella wailing in the backseat.“Ohhh, it hurts so much! Marco, please hurry!” Isabella screeched, her voice grating like nails on a chalkboard.I clenched my teeth and looked over at Marco. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a hard line, but he said nothing. Of course, he wouldn’t. He was too busy trying to hold it together.I turned back toward the window, willing myself to stay calm, but it was impossible. Isabella’s dramatic cries filled the car, each one more ridiculous than the last.“Oh, Marco, I think I’m losing consciousness! Please, don’t let me die!”I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “She’s unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.“What was that, Sarah?” Marco asked, hi