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
SARAHIt had been a few days since I learned the news, yet it still felt surreal. Pregnant… I was pregnant—with Marco’s child. The words felt strange, even in my own mind, like they belonged to someone else. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a tangled mess. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they look like him? Strong jawline, sharp eyes, and that commanding presence that made people stop and listen? Or would they take after me—quieter features, softer edges, and a personality that blended in rather than demanded attention?The thought made me smile for a moment, but it didn’t last long. My chest tightened. Marco. My joy was tied to him, and that wasn’t exactly comforting. He was overwhelming—controlling, even. Sometimes, he was impossible to predict. But then again, he was also passionate, fiercely protective. Could I trust him to be all those things for our child? Or would his darker side, the one I’d seen far too often, cast a shadow over our family?I let out a long breath, rub
SARAHI paced around my room, the frustration boiling in my chest like a kettle about to scream. “I can’t do this anymore, Tony,” I said, my voice sharp and shaking as I turned to face him. He leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, his expression calm but wary. “I’m done snooping. We have enough. More than enough. She’s not slipping through this time.”Tony raised a brow, his jaw tightening. “You’re sure? What if we’re wrong? What if she’s got more dirt we don’t know about? Isabella’s crafty—she doesn’t make stupid mistakes.”“Crafty?” I scoffed, throwing my hands in the air. “That’s a polite way of saying she’s manipulative and dangerous, Tony. You’ve seen the files, the emails, the fake documents. Hell, you’ve seen the way she slithers around Marco, poisoning everything she touches. What more do you need?”“I’m just saying,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “If we act too soon, she might wiggle out of this. She’s good at covering her tracks, Sarah. We can’t risk l
ISABELLAThe door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned back against it, letting out a sharp hiss of frustration. My chest rose and fell, not from exertion but from sheer anger. I had been so close. So damn close to getting Marco right where I wanted him. My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I thought about the way he pushed me away, the way he growled my name like a warning.I’d spent hours getting ready for this. Hours. The makeup, the hair, the dress that hugged me like a second skin—it was all for him. Every step of the plan was perfect, but somehow, she was still in the way.“Sarah,” I spat under my breath, the name leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. I pushed off the door and started down the hall, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. “That woman has him wrapped around her little finger.”I gritted my teeth, my jaw tightening as I replayed the scene in my mind. The way Marco’s eyes flickered, the way he hesitated before kissing me back—it was all proof that
MARCOThe car’s engine hummed low as I pulled into the driveway, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. My head throbbed, a dull ache that had been my constant companion these past two days. Work had been relentless—meetings, negotiations, and putting out fires that seemed to spring up faster than I could extinguish them.Handling the family’s affairs was never easy, but the past forty-eight hours had been especially draining. There had been an ambush at one of our warehouses, and while we managed to fend off the attack, the losses were significant. Supplies damaged, men injured—it was chaos. On top of that, there were whispers of disloyalty within the ranks. I had spent hours interrogating, cross-referencing every bit of information, trying to root out the traitor.I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders as I parked and stepped out of the car. The cool evening air did little to soothe my tension. As I approached the house, two guards at the front door straightened immediately.“Ev
SARAHThe tension in the dining room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I sat across from Isabella, my fork idly moving the food on my plate. She seemed distracted, her gaze darting between her plate and the glass of water by her side. Marco’s absence was both a blessing and a curse. It gave me the perfect opportunity to speak freely, but it also meant I had no buffer if things went south.I cleared my throat softly and leaned forward, trying to sound casual. “So,” I started, breaking the silence, “how have you been feeling lately? You’ve been keeping to yourself a lot. I hope everything’s okay.”Isabella looked up, her expression unreadable at first. She gave me a small, polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve been fine. Just… busy with errands, you know. There’s always something to take care of.”I nodded, keeping my tone light. “I can imagine. Especially with the baby on the way. How’s your health? Have you been keeping up with your appointments?”Her smile fa
SARAH The door shut behind Tony with a soft click, and I turned, my heart pounding in anticipation. His face was a mix of triumph and caution, and I knew immediately he had news. “Well?” I asked, crossing my arms to keep my hands from trembling. “What did Victor say?” Tony pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His expression darkened as if he were replaying the interrogation in his head. “He admitted everything,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Marco’s not the father. Victor falsified the DNA report on Isabella’s orders. She bribed him.” I felt the room spin for a moment, my breath catching in my chest. “She bribed him?” I echoed, barely able to believe it. “She really did it… and Marco has no idea?” Tony nodded grimly. “Not just that. Victor said she wasn’t working alone. Marcel threatened him to make sure he went along with the plan. This is bigger than just Isabella trying to trap Marco.” My mind raced, trying to connect the dot
THIRD PERSONTony paced back and forth in the dimly lit living room, the glow of his phone screen casting sharp shadows across his face. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic click of his shoes against the hardwood floor and the occasional buzz of his phone as he redialed the same number for the third time.“Come on, pick up,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the clock on the wall. His patience was wearing thin, but his determination remained intact. This was too important to let slide.Finally, the call connected, and a gruff voice on the other end answered. “Tony. Got some updates for you.”Tony stopped pacing and stood still, his focus sharpening instantly. “Yeah? What do you have?”“The guy you’re after—Victor,” the man began, his tone measured but sure. “We’ve got a handle on him. Been tracking his daily routine for a few days now. Turns out, he’s not exactly living like your average lab tech.”Tony raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”“Word is, he’s recently come
SARAHShowing up at the hospital to investigate felt unreal. I couldn’t shake the irony of it all—hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, sanctuaries of truth, where people put their trust in tests and results. Yet here I was, convinced that something as crucial as Marco’s DNA test had been tampered with, and the trail of deception had led me straight to the doors of this institution.Every step toward the entrance felt heavy, like I was dragging the weight of my doubts and fears behind me. This wasn’t just about Marco or Isabella anymore. It was about the truth, about justice. If someone had tampered with his test results, they had played with his life—and mine.Tony walked beside me, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, his expression neutral but sharp. He always had this way of staying calm, of making me feel like we weren’t walking into the lion’s den. But I couldn’t help the nerves twisting in my stomach.“This is a big risk,” I muttered, breaking th
SARAHI couldn’t shake the unease in my chest, the gnawing sensation that something sinister was at play. Those messages I’d found on Isabella’s phone were like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit. Marcel—the same man who had nearly killed Marco—was texting her. Why? What was the plan? I’d spent the better part of the day wracking my brain, going over every possible scenario, but none of my conclusions gave me any comfort.Was she working with Marcel? Was this about money? Revenge? Control? My thoughts circled back to the vague instructions in those texts—keeping Marco distracted, causing turmoil. But to what end? And why was Isabella still here, moving through this house like she belonged, when every fiber of my being screamed that she didn’t?I sighed heavily, putting down the crochet hook I’d been using to try to calm my nerves. The yarn sat limp in my lap, a testament to how little I’d managed to accomplish. I wasn’t going to get anywhere sitting here and stewing in my own thoughts
SARAHThe rhythmic motion of my hands moving the crochet hook through the yarn was oddly soothing. It was one of the few things that could keep my mind calm these days. I sat on the living room couch, determined to finish the little blanket I’d started weeks ago. The soft, repetitive motion allowed me to focus on something other than the chaos that had become my life.Across the room, Isabella was lounging on another couch, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t said a word to me since she’d entered the room, and I wasn’t about to start a conversation. The silence between us was sharp, almost suffocating, but I preferred it over whatever fake kindness she’d try to throw my way. I kept my eyes fixed on my work, ignoring her presence entirely.Every now and then, I’d hear her let out a soft laugh or the click of her nails tapping against the phone screen. It was infuriating how comfortable she seemed, sitting there like she owned the place. I tightened my grip on the yarn, forcing myse