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
MARCOI set the phone down slowly, feeling its cold weight in my hand as the call ended. The finality of it pressed down on me like a thick fog—heavy, unnerving. He had confirmed my resignation. He’d told me where to pick Sarah up. But none of it felt right, like waking up from a bad dream only to realize you’re still stuck in it. The silence in the room was too still, too loud, broken only by the steady, muted breaths of Tony and Petrov beside me. They waited, both of them watching me closely, and I forced myself to take a deep breath, to clear the swirl of unease that kept nagging at the back of my mind.Tony was the first to break the silence, leaning back in his chair with that usual smirk—half-reassuring, half-infuriating. “See? I told you this would happen.” He stretched his arms out, almost too casual, too satisfied. “First things first—Sarah is safe, Marco. She’s alive, which is a damn good factor in all this.” He paused, raising a brow. “Now? Now it’s our turn. Time to hit th
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
SARAHI stood at the edge of the room, watching Marco approach Isabella. My heart was pounding, uncertain about what he intended to do or say. He had reassured me earlier that she’d be leaving today, but now, as he walked towards her with that unreadable expression, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. What if she had more tricks up her sleeve?Isabella, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, perked up as soon as she saw him. Her face lit up with a wide, overly enthusiastic smile, the kind that made my stomach churn with irritation. “Marco!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I didn’t know you were back already. You won’t believe how fascinating this show is! You should come join me.” She patted the cushion beside her, as if she had any right to act like this was her home.Marco didn’t respond to her theatrics. His expression was stony, his steps measured. He stopped just short of the couch, towering over her with an intimidating presence that even I coul
SARAHIt had been a full day since Isabella’s dramatic arrival, and I was still holed up in my room. I muttered to myself as I tossed another pillow back onto the bed. I wasn’t exactly hiding—I just couldn’t stand the sight of her. Every time I thought about her waltzing in, acting all smug and self-assured, my blood boiled. And Marco… He hadn’t said much since, which only made things worse.I tried to shake off the frustration as I moved around, tidying up my room just to keep my hands busy. “Marco will deal with this,” I said under my breath, like a mantra. “He’ll send her packing today, and this nonsense will be over.”Still, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder how we’d gotten here. How did our lives go from peaceful—almost blissful—to this chaos? One day we were happy, planning our future, and the next, Isabella was barging in with her ridiculous claim.I sighed and headed into the bathroom. The cool splash of water on my face helped clear my mind a little, though not as much as