MARCOI lunged at Danzo the moment his finger hovered over the trigger again. There was no plan, no strategy—just raw, blinding instinct. My body slammed into his with full force, and the gun clattered to the floor. Sarah crumpled to the ground beside us, her face pale, her breaths ragged. But I couldn’t look at her now. I had to end this.Danzo snarled as we hit the floor, his knee driving into my gut as he shoved me off. Pain exploded through my ribs, but I gritted my teeth and surged back at him. My fist connected with his jaw, and the sickening crack of bone gave me a second of satisfaction.“Is this all you’ve got, Marco?” he sneered, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “The great protector, the so-called savior? Pathetic.”I ignored him, grabbing for the gun, but Danzo was faster. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice, twisting it painfully. I let out a grunt, jerking my arm free just as he swung at me again. I ducked, feeling the wind of his punch as it barely m
MARCO The weight of Danzo on my chest was suffocating. My head throbbed from the blow he’d landed earlier, and my ribs felt like they’d been shattered into pieces. The blade in his hand hovered just inches above me, glinting under the dim light, mocking me with its inevitability. My muscles strained as I pushed against him, but Danzo was relentless, pressing down with the weight of his body and his victory. “Well, Marco,” he sneered, leaning closer. His breath reeked of blood and spite. “Looks like this is it for you. No backup. No miraculous last-minute escape. And this time?” He chuckled, his grin wicked. “No plot armor to save you.” I blinked up at him, barely comprehending the words through the haze of pain clouding my mind. Plot armor? He was mocking me, enjoying every second of his supposed triumph. A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, but it got caught somewhere between frustration and despair. My body screamed at me to fight back, to do something, but I was pinned and out
MARCOI sat up slowly, every movement weighted, like I was dragging my body out of quicksand. The metallic scent of blood clung to the air, sharp and inescapable. My eyes flicked down to Danzo’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor, his blood spreading in a dark pool beneath him. My stomach churned, but I forced my gaze away from the sickening sight and looked up at Sarah.She was still frozen, the gun trembling in her hands like a leaf caught in a storm. Her fingers were clamped so tightly around it that her knuckles were bone-white. Her chest heaved, her breaths sharp and erratic, like she couldn’t get enough air.“Sarah…” I whispered her name, my voice gentle but insistent, trying to break through the fog I could see clouding her mind.She didn’t respond. Her wide, glassy eyes stayed fixed on Danzo, unblinking. Her grip on the gun didn’t loosen, and for a terrifying moment, I thought she might fire again.“Sarah,” I said again, louder this time, my voice shaking but determined. I pu
MARCOTony was already pulling himself into the driver’s seat, wincing as his hand pressed against the bloody gash on his side. I hesitated, Sarah still limp in my arms, her face pale as death.“You sure you can drive?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. “You got shot, Tony. You’re damn lucky it didn’t hit anything vital.”Tony threw me a grin through the rearview mirror, blood smeared across his teeth. “I’ve had worse. Just sit tight and keep her breathing, Marco. I’ll get us there.”“Don’t screw this up,” I growled, climbing into the back seat with Sarah cradled against me. I couldn’t risk leaving her side. Petrov climbed in next to me, clutching his arm where blood seeped through his shirt.Tony snorted, turning the key in the ignition. “You act like I haven’t driven half-dead before.”The tires screeched as we tore out of the lot, and I braced Sarah against me, trying to keep her steady. Her breathing was shallow, her face clammy, and every second that ticked by felt like
SARAHThe silence between us was deafening. Marco sat by my bedside, his eyes locked on mine, unwavering, as if daring me to fall apart again. I didn’t know what to say—or maybe I was too afraid to say anything at all. Every time I tried to open my mouth, the words felt stuck, like they’d betray me. I shifted slightly, wincing as the IV tugged at my arm. Marco noticed instantly, his brows furrowing.“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” His voice was softer than I expected, almost too careful, like I might shatter under its weight.I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine, Marco. Really.”He didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, his eyes scanning every inch of me as if he could find the lie in my words.The silence stretched on, and it started to feel unbearable. I hated how quiet he was, how quiet I was. It wasn’t like us. Normally, Marco would be barking orders, teasing me, or finding some way to make light of the situation, and I’d be throwing som
MARCOThe doctor motioned for me to follow him into a smaller, sterile-looking room down the hallway. I walked in without hesitation, though my body was screaming for a break. Every step felt like dragging a dead weight. My clothes clung to me, sticky with dried blood and sweat, and the sharp stings of my wounds were becoming impossible to ignore. But showing weakness? That wasn’t an option—not here, not now.“Take a seat,” the doctor said, nodding toward the examination table as he pulled on a pair of gloves. His voice was calm, unnervingly so, like he wasn’t staring at someone who looked like they’d walked out of a warzone.I sat down stiffly, rolling up my sleeves with deliberate movements. The metallic smell of blood mixed with the faint antiseptic scent of the room, making my head swim for a moment.The doctor began gathering supplies from a nearby tray, humming under his breath as though this was just another routine check-up. He grabbed a swab and turned toward me. “Let’s start
MARCOThe nurse stepped in front of me as I tried to enter Sarah’s room. Her face was calm but unyielding, and I could tell this wasn’t her first time dealing with someone on the verge of losing it.“Sir, you can’t come in here,” she said, her voice firm but polite.“Move,” I barked, my chest heaving. My eyes were fixed on Sarah lying there, pale and lifeless, with wires hooked up to her like she was some machine. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might crack a rib.“Sir, I need you to step back,” she repeated, her tone sharper now. “You’re only going to get in the way.”I clenched my fists, my body halfway through the doorway. “Get in the way? That’s my wife in there! She’s unconscious, and you want me to just stand out here doing nothing?”“Sir!” The doctor’s voice cut through the tension. He strode toward me, peeling off his gloves as he approached. His face was calm, like nothing fazed him, but there was an edge of authority in his tone. “You need to stay outside.”“Sh
MARCOI followed the doctor down the hallway, my mind spinning like a carousel of worst-case scenarios. Every step felt heavier than the last. My gut churned, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead felt like a dull roar in my ears. What did he need to tell me in private? If Sarah was stable, why couldn’t he just say it in the waiting room?The idea that something worse might be going on clawed at my brain. I couldn’t stop the flood of possibilities. What if her condition had suddenly deteriorated? What if they’d missed something? What if she wasn’t actually stable?The doctor didn’t say a word as we walked, and that silence only made it worse. I was on the edge of asking him to just spit it out, but the look on his face—calm but serious—kept me from speaking. He stopped in front of a door, opening it and motioning for me to step inside.The room was small, standard, with a desk, two chairs, and shelves lined with books and folders. The kind of place where conversations you d
SARAHI woke up groggy, my head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to it, over and over again. My skull throbbed with each slow beat of my heart, a dull, crushing pain that made it hard to think. Everything was heavy. My eyelids, my limbs, even my breath felt like it took too much effort.The air pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. It smelled awful—sweat, dampness, something rotten. The kind of stink that clung to a place, to the walls, to the people trapped inside. It crawled into my lungs, making my stomach churn.I tried to move, but a sharp ache shot up my arms. My wrists pulsed with pain. Tied? No. Just stiff, numb from how I had been lying. My fingers tingled as I flexed them. The cold floor bit into my skin, rough and unwelcoming.My thoughts were sluggish, crawling through a thick fog. I blinked hard, trying to push past it, to make sense of anything. My head was too clouded, my body too weak. It felt like waking up from a deep, drugged sleep, the kind where reali
MARCOThe phone nearly cracked in my grip as I rushed into the SUV. My hands were steady, but my heart was beating like a war drum. I jammed the key into the ignition, twisting hard, and the engine roared to life. I didn’t waste a second. I slammed my foot on the gas, tires screeching against the pavement as I tore out of the parking lot.The streets blurred past me. Headlights flashed. Horns blared. I didn’t care. I pushed the speed, weaving through cars like they were standing still. The city was a mess of moving lights, but I only had one thought in my head.Sarah.She had to be safe.I prayed, gripping the wheel tighter. I never prayed, but right now, I did. Let me get there in time. Let her be alive.My knuckles were white on the wheel as I cut through traffic, dodging between cars, taking turns so sharp the tires nearly lifted off the pavement. A semi braked hard ahead of me. I spun the wheel, the SUV sliding through a gap so small I felt the side mirror graze metal. The moment
FLASHBACK: The Attack on Marco’s HouseMarcel’s POV⸻I had been waiting for this moment. Watching, studying, knowing that Marco would retaliate the second he got the chance. That was the kind of man he was. If he got hit, he didn’t rest until he hit back harder. It made him predictable.That’s why I wasn’t going to wait for his move. I was going to make the first one.No spies. No informants. No middlemen. Just patience. Observation. And now, execution.I stood with my men in the darkness, watching Marco’s house. The place was locked down tight. Armed men patrolling the perimeter. Cameras on every corner. Motion sensors near the fence line. He thought this would keep him safe.It wouldn’t.I turned to Matteo, my second for this mission. He was calm, like always. He lived for this.“Marco just left,” I said. “Now we move.”No one questioned me. They were waiting for this order.“The objective is clear. No survivors except for Sarah. You see someone moving, you drop them. Fast. No game
MARCOI slid into the SUV, the door shutting with a heavy thud. The weight of it felt final, like the closing of a chapter. The engine rumbled beneath me as we pulled out, cutting through the quiet streets, heading straight for the Rossi base. The city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows, but I wasn’t looking. My mind wasn’t here. It was already ahead, in that warehouse, already seeing how this was going to play out.Hopefully, this was it.This war had dragged on too long. The back and forth, the blood, the bodies—enough. I was tired of the cycle, tired of waiting for the next move, tired of watching the Rossis breathe when they should’ve been six feet under. Tonight, that changed. No more counterattacks. No more back and forth. Just an end.I sighed, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it with one flick of my lighter. The first drag burned just right. My body knew what was coming, and the nicotine settled me just enough.I thought about Sarah.She was probably still sitting at t
MARCOThe chessboard was already set when I walked into the living room. Sarah sat across from my chair, arms crossed, a smug little smirk playing at her lips.“You’re late,” she said.I raised an eyebrow. “Late for what?”She nodded at the board. “For your loss.”I let out a short laugh, shaking my head as I took my seat. “That so?”“Mm-hm,” she hummed, moving a pawn forward. “I’ve been studying.”I glanced down at the board, already seeing how she had set up her pieces. She wasn’t playing like she normally did—impulsive, eager to attack before she had control. No, this time, she had structure. Her knights were placed well, her pawns controlling the center. It was actually… decent.I moved my own piece, slow, measured. “You know studying only gets you so far, right?”Sarah shrugged. “Says the man who’s about to lose.”I smirked, letting her have her confidence. She moved again, faster this time, her fingers light on the pieces. The game picked up, back and forth, each of us watching,
************The Rossi estate was quiet, but inside, the air was thick with frustration and failure. Damien stood near the fireplace, his jaw clenched so tight it ached, hands curled into fists at his sides. The ambush was supposed to end Marco. They had planned everything down to the second, every angle covered, every escape route cut off. And still, he survived. Their men weren’t just beaten. They were slaughtered. It was more than a loss. It was humiliation, and the weight of it sat heavy on Damien’s shoulders.Across the room, Isabella was pacing like a caged predator, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. The anger rolling off her was almost suffocating. She stopped suddenly, raking a hand through her dark hair, her breath coming in sharp bursts.“Unbelievable,” she spat, eyes burning as she turned toward Damien. “We had him. We fucking had him. And now look at us—sitting here like cowards while he reloads.” She took a step closer, voice slicing through the room. “
MARCOThe city blurred past me as I drove, headlights cutting through the darkness. My fingers tapped against the steering wheel, slow, steady. My pulse didn’t spike. My breathing didn’t change. But inside, something cold settled in my chest.They really tried to kill me. Again.And I wasn’t surprised. That was the thing. It didn’t shock me. It didn’t make me pause. This life, this war, it only ended one way. You either take out the enemy, or they take you out. No in-between. No second chances. And last night? They took their shot. Sarah had to pull the trigger to survive. My wife. My unborn kid in the middle of it. Because of them.The Rossis thought they could take something from me. They thought they could shake me. And maybe years ago, I would’ve given them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I would’ve given Damien Rossi a call, laid it out, given him a chance to fix it before I burned his whole fucking house down.But those days were gone.This wasn’t business anymore. It wasn’t neg
MARCO I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Sarah sleep. The room was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavier after a night like last night. The gunfire, the chaos, the blood. It was all still sitting on my chest, but none of it weighed more than the fact that Sarah had pulled the trigger. That she had to. She wasn’t built for this. I knew that from the beginning. But life didn’t care what someone was built for. It threw them into the fire anyway. And now, she was in too deep. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. I didn’t like the way she looked even in sleep—tense, uneasy, like her body was still trying to fight off whatever threat it thought was coming next. I reached for my glass of water on the nightstand, taking a slow sip, keeping my eyes on her. Sarah shifted, her body stirring like she was fighting her way back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then landing on me. “Morning,” I said, my voice quiet. She barely responded, j
MARCELI lifted the gun, aiming for the center of the target, steadying my breath as I pulled the trigger. The first shot hit, the second landed a little off, the third barely grazed where I wanted. I lowered the gun, exhaling slowly. Three out of five. That wasn’t good enough.I turned to the guard standing a few feet away. “Bring me the other model,” I said, shaking my head as I set the gun down. My aim wasn’t usually off. Maybe it was the drink in my hand. Maybe it was the news I hadn’t gotten yet but could feel coming.The guard nodded quickly and disappeared. I poured another glass, taking a slow sip, letting the liquor burn its way down. The air in the room was thick with smoke and gunpowder, a mix I usually found calming, but not tonight.Then the door creaked open. I didn’t turn. I knew hesitation when I heard it. Someone was about to tell me something I wouldn’t like.“Boss,” the man started, voice uneven. “There’s been… a situation.”I swirled my drink, watching the amber li