SARAHDanzo's fingers hovered over his phone, each tap slow, deliberate, and sinister. My stomach twisted with dread as he dialed Marco’s number. The rings echoed through the room, each tone stretching out, clawing at me as I braced for whatever twisted game Danzo had planned. After a few rings, the call dropped. Danzo gritted his teeth, his jaw tight as he hit redial, frustration flashing in his eyes. He glanced at me, his gaze filled with a twisted satisfaction as if daring me to hope. He wasn’t about to let this go. This wasn’t just a call for him; this was a show, a piece of his cruelty he was savoring.The phone rang again, and this time it connected. Danzo’s lips curled into a sick smile as he hit the speaker button."Who is this?" Marco’s voice snapped, hard-edged and wary, though a thread of something else crept in too—concern. Danzo chuckled, a low, taunting sound that filled the room like poison. “Marco,” he sneered, drawing out his name as if it were something to toy with
MARCOAs soon as Petrov and Tony stepped out of the chopper, I was there to meet them. We moved in silence, taking a cab to the hideout. It was the kind of silence that was thick, heavy. I could feel the weight of everything we weren’t saying. The whole ride, I tried to stay calm, tried to convince myself that I had it under control.After a while, Tony glanced over, breaking the silence. “Marco,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, almost casual, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. Luis has things handled back home. This… right here? It’s our focus.” He nodded, his confidence unwavering, and I did my best to give him a reassuring look in return.When we arrived, Petrov wasted no time setting up his equipment. He had his tools out, his focus sharp, ready to trace any possible leads. Watching him was oddly comforting, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. I took a deep breath, figuring it was finally time to tell them everything. “Listen up,” I said, drawing their att
SARAHI jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to my skin, my breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. I could still feel it—the terror of the nightmare, clinging to me like a second skin. It was Marco. I’d been reaching for him, trying to scream his name, but no sound came out. He was right there, on the other side of some invisible wall, his face twisted in pain and desperation, his hands reaching for me but blocked by something dark, a shadow creeping in between us.Then Danzo appeared, his cold, twisted smile the only thing I could make out in the darkness. He stepped between us, blocking Marco from view. I tried to scream, to reach out, but it was like my body had turned to stone, paralyzed with fear as Marco slipped further away, his image swallowed by the darkness. I was helpless, my voice trapped somewhere in my throat as Danzo’s face lingered, mocking, laughing.I blinked hard, swallowing, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. It wasn’t real. Just a twisted, fearful e
SARAHI sat frozen, my mind racing as I took in Danzo seated across from me, his dark eyes gleaming with something close to satisfaction. A twisted kind of smugness played on his face, like he’d won a game I hadn’t even known I was part of. What was this all about? Why was he doing this? My thoughts were a jumbled mess, each question spiraling out, twisting back around into anger and confusion. The room was brighter and cleaner than the last, with a faint smell of wood polish hanging in the air, and somehow that made everything feel even worse. The walls were painted a muted gray, a strange contrast to the harsh light that flooded the space, and there was a single polished wooden table beside Danzo, cluttered with a few items I couldn’t make out.It felt almost surreal, the kind of place you’d expect for an office, not… whatever this was. I realized then that the last room had been intentionally bare and awful—it had been a cage. This one was no better, but there was a sickening calcu
MARCOThe silence in the room pressed down like a weight, thick and unrelenting. I stared at my phone, eyes burning from lack of sleep and hope. Any moment now, I told myself, there would be something—a message, a call, anything to break the waiting. I’d never felt so helpless, the seconds ticking away like each one was working against us, against Sarah.Beside me, Tony sat, calm as a stone, lighting a cigarette. The flicker of the flame was almost hypnotic. He took a drag, letting the smoke slip out slowly. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me as he leaned back, cool and controlled. I felt like I was falling apart under his gaze.“Tony,” I finally said, my voice strained. The words came out like I was trying to drag them up from some dark pit in my chest. “What if… what if they just wanted the money?” I struggled to keep my voice even, but I could hear the waver, barely above a whisper. “What if they took it and—” I stopped myself, the words too painful to finish, the thought too
SARAHI stared at the walls, my mind hazy and dull. They looked so cold, stained in patches, with smudges here and there—reminders of other lives, other people who had been trapped in here before me. The air felt thick and stale, pressing down on me like the weight of all my thoughts. I wasn’t tied up this time, at least. But the freedom to move didn’t make much difference when the guards were still there, stomping around like they owned the place.The hallway outside was cramped and narrow. Through the small window in the door, I could see the guards passing by, their boots thumping rhythmically as they paced. They laughed with each other, their voices crude and wild, making nasty jokes and tossing around the kind of words that made me want to shrink into myself. Every time they laughed, a chill spread over my skin, reminding me how little control I had here. Every part of me knew that trying to escape would be useless. I didn’t even know where I was, and from the looks of it, there
SARAHI woke up with a sharp jolt, my whole body aching. The first thing I noticed was the pain, but it wasn’t the same kind I was used to—the sharp, throbbing pain of captivity. No, this was different. It was dull, like a thud in the back of my skull that wouldn’t leave, and everything else felt sore in a way I didn’t recognize. I tried to open my eyes, but the light burned through my lids, forcing them back closed. I groaned, my hand instinctively going to my head, hoping the pressure would ease, but as my fingers grazed my scalp, something felt wrong.I froze. Something was on my wrist. Something cold. I lifted my hand slowly and felt something thick and soft, like a bandage, but it wasn’t a bandage. It felt more… like medical tape. I opened my eyes fully, blinking to adjust to the light. What I saw made my stomach drop.I was in a bed, but not the hard, cold floor I was used to. I was lying down, my body wrapped in soft, clean sheets, with an IV drip stuck in my arm, attached to a
SARAHI was too numb to resist as Danzo’s men closed in around me, each rough hand on my arm or shoulder pushing me forward. The small spark of defiance I’d clung to, the one that had gotten me this far, was all but extinguished now, buried under the weight of failure. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Danzo. But I could feel his gaze, that amused, twisted satisfaction radiating off him.Once they brought me back to the same sterile room and practically threw me onto the soft bed, I let out a strangled, defeated breath. The warmth of the sheets felt mocking now, a reminder of my own foolish hope just minutes ago.One of Danzo’s men shoved my shoulders down, forcing me back into the bed. His grip was merciless, his eyes indifferent as he strapped me down with the restraints I’d worked so hard to free myself from before. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. It grounded me, reminded me I was still alive, for whatever that was worth.Danzo strolled in casu
ISABELLADamien’s eyes lingered on me, sharp and calculating. For a man who prided himself on control, I could see the faint cracks in his composure, the unease that flickered just beneath his confident exterior.“You’re serious,” he said finally, leaning forward. His voice was low, skeptical, but there was a hint of something else—curiosity, maybe, or intrigue.I gave him a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I don’t make empty promises, Damien. If you let me take the lead on this, Marco won’t just lose. He’ll crumble.”He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he studied me. His gaze was piercing, searching for any signs of weakness or deception, but I didn’t flinch.After what felt like an eternity, he nodded once, a sharp, deliberate motion. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll give you a chance. But understand this, Isabella: if you screw this up, there won’t be a second chance.”“I wouldn’t expect one,” I replied smoothly, my tone steady.For a moment, silence stretc
ISABELLAI adjusted myself in the seat, ready to speak, but before a single word left my lips, Damien raised a hand and cut me off with a smirk that could curdle milk.“Before you get started, Miss Isabella,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk, “I should let you know I don’t have much patience for loud women.”The words hit like a slap, but I held my ground, masking my irritation.“And,” he continued, his tone smooth but laced with condescension, “it’s a little difficult to believe that a woman—a woman, mind you—is going to be the one to hand me victory over Marco De Luca.”He smiled then, a crude twist of his lips that made something in my stomach churn. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement at his own words, the arrogance rolling off him like smoke.I felt my shoulders stiffen, the sting of his insult sharpening my focus. For a second, I wanted to walk out, but I wasn’t about to let someone like Damien Rossi make me second-guess myself.Instead, I s
ISABELLAThe vibration of my phone pulled me from sleep, the dim light of the screen casting a faint glow across the room. I squinted, blinking at the message:“10 a.m. - Firm location pinned. Be there.”An unknown number, but I didn’t need a name. It was them. Finally, the opportunity I’d been waiting for. My ticket to get back at Marco De Luca.A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the message. I could almost hear his voice, calm and cold, the way it had been that day when he kicked me out. His exact words still echoed in my mind:“I don’t tolerate liars, Isabella. Pack your things and leave.”He hadn’t even flinched. No hesitation, no second chances. It didn’t matter that I lied to protect myself. It didn’t matter that I was the best thing to ever happen to him. He tossed me aside like I was nothing.But I wasn’t nothing.As I sat up in bed, gripping my phone tightly, my thoughts sharpened with resolve. He thought he could have his perfect little life with his wife and hi
ISABELLAThe bar wasn’t what I expected.Dim lighting, loud music, and a crowd that seemed to have spilled in from every corner of the city made the place feel chaotic. My heels clicked against the scuffed floor as I stepped inside, phone in hand, scanning the room for anyone who matched the description I’d been given.Nothing.I checked the name of the bar again, comparing it to the last text I’d received. The Glass Ember. It was right. This was the place. So why did it feel like I was the punchline of some bad joke?I dialed the number again, pressing the phone to my ear as I moved toward the edge of the bar, away from the main crowd. The call didn’t go through—again.“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath, lowering the phone. I leaned against the wall, feeling increasingly out of place. The bartender eyed me curiously from across the room, probably wondering why I wasn’t ordering anything. I ignored him, glancing at the door instead.Minutes passed, and the knot of irritation i
SARAHI woke up to the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, my head feeling a little heavy. I winced slightly, turning over and burying my face in the soft pillows. Why did I feel like this? My memories from the previous night quickly pieced themselves together—the museum, Marco bringing me here, and that kiss… that intense, overwhelming kiss that I hadn’t resisted.A sigh escaped my lips as I sat up, rubbing my temples. “Mako never gets satisfied, does he?” I muttered to myself, a small smile tugging at my lips despite my teasing words.The room was silent except for the soft sound of Marco’s steady breathing. I glanced over at him, sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling peacefully. It was a rare sight to see him like this—relaxed, without the usual mischievous smirk or sharp edge in his eyes.He looked… cute. I let my gaze linger for a moment longer, a warmth spreading through my chest before I shook it off and slipped out of bed.I freshened u
SARAHThe rest of the event passed in a blur, but my mind wasn’t in the room anymore. It was stuck on Marco.His words lingered in my head like an echo I couldn’t shake. That flower—The Eternal Bloom. His determination to get it, the way his voice had cut through the air when he placed those bids, the confidence in his tone. And then that moment when he turned to me, just for a second, his eyes softening in a way that made my heart trip over itself.Why did he care so much about it? Why did he want it so badly? Was it just about the rarity, the prestige of owning something so unique? Or was it… was it about the legend?I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Marco sat calmly, his expression unreadable as always, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it.And then, my own thoughts started betraying me. Why did I feel this warmth when I looked at him? Why did I feel like my heart was caught in a vice every time he was near? This wasn’t the first time he’d surprised me
SARAHWe pulled up to the entrance of the art house, and my breath hitched. The entire area was lit up with golden lights, the long red carpet stretching out in front of the grand building like something out of a movie. People in elegant gowns and tailored suits moved about, and the buzz of cameras clicking filled the air.Marco stepped out first, his expression calm and unreadable. As he walked to my side of the car and opened the door, I could already hear the rising chatter of reporters and the flashes of paparazzi cameras going wild.“Marco! Over here!”“Who’s the lady with you tonight?”“Marco, can we get a statement about—”“Mr. DeLuca, just one photo!”The voices were endless, overlapping and relentless. Marco ignored them completely, his focus solely on me as he held out his hand.“Ready?” he asked, his tone as steady as ever.I nodded, slipping my hand into his and stepping out. The second my heel touched the carpet, I felt the weight of a hundred eyes on me. The cameras shif
SARAHI stepped out of the shower, the warm steam clinging to my skin as I wrapped myself in a soft towel. For a moment, I let myself just stand there, the quiet hum of the bathroom fan filling the silence. Tonight felt… different. It wasn’t like we hadn’t gone out before, but something about the way Marco had asked, about the way he looked at me earlier, felt new.My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight. Marco had been very clear about the time—unusually clear, in fact. I smiled to myself, shaking my head. He always had this way of making even the smallest details seem important, and tonight, it seemed, was no exception.I dried off quickly, slipping into my robe before beginning my routine. My hands moved automatically—cleansing, moisturizing, brushing back my damp hair. As I worked, my thoughts wandered. It had been a while since we’d done something like this, just the two of us. Life had felt so… busy. Sometimes, it felt like we were more like two people shar
SARAHI curled up on the couch, my feet tucked under me as I searched for something to watch. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was to unwind. Flipping through the streaming options, I settled on a lighthearted anime I’d seen a few clips of online. Within minutes, I was already laughing at the silly humor and over-the-top characters.Resting my hand on my growing belly, I smiled, feeling a wave of warmth spread through me. “Do you like this too, little one?” I asked softly, glancing down. “Is it funny to you?” The thought of my baby growing up and maybe loving the same silly things I did made me giggle. It was such a wholesome, peaceful moment that I wished I could bottle it up.I was halfway through the first episode when I heard the sound of the front door opening. I turned my head and smiled instinctively as Marco walked in. As always, he looked effortlessly put together—his black button-up shirt fit him perfectly, and his presence seemed to fill the room the second he stepp