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
SARAHMarco hovered like a mother hen, his hand never straying far from the small of my back as we walked down the hospital hallway toward the lobby. His other hand lingered near my arm, ready to steady me even though I was perfectly capable of walking on my own.“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice lined with what I could only describe as exaggerated concern.I bit back a smile, trying not to let his overprotectiveness get to me. “I’m fine, Marco. You don’t have to keep asking.”“I do,” he replied without missing a beat. “You might not realize it, but this is a big deal. I’m not taking any chances.”I sighed, shaking my head slightly. “I’m pregnant, Marco, not dying. You need to chill.”He ignored me, his hand gently pressing against my back to guide me toward a nearby chair as we reached the lobby. “Sit down for a minute,” he said, his tone firm but still laced with that same overbearing concern.I gave him a look but complied, easing into the chair. “Happy now?”“Getting ther
SARAHMarco guided me through the front door, his hand steady on the small of my back. I paused just inside, looking around. The house felt familiar, yet somehow foreign. It was strange—like stepping into a dream you couldn’t quite remember. Everything looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was because so much had happened since I was last here.Marco must have noticed the way I lingered, my eyes scanning the space like I was trying to recognize it. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, leaning closer. “Does it feel different?”I nodded slowly. “A little. It’s like… I’ve been gone for years instead of weeks.”He smiled at that, his hand brushing against mine. “Well, you’re home now,” he said firmly. “And I’m going to make sure it feels like home again.”As we moved further inside, the staff was already lined up in the grand hallway, their faces lighting up when they saw us. The maids, the guards, even the cook—they were all there. It was almost overwhelming.Marco stepped f
MARCOTony leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “The past few weeks have been crazy, man. I don’t even know where to start. Feels like the hits just keep coming.”“No doubt,” I said, pouring a generous measure of whiskey into three glasses. “Danzo’s finally out of the picture, but the mess he left behind? That’s going to take time to clean up.”Tony sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s not just the mess. It’s what it means, Marco. If someone like Carlos could turn on you, someone that close? What the hell are we supposed to do now? Trust anyone? Forget it.”I nodded, sliding a glass to him and one to Petrov before sitting back down. “Exactly. That’s what’s been eating at me. Carlos was like family. Hell, he was family. And he worked with Danzo to take me down. It makes you question everything.”Tony took a sip, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the amber liquid. “You’re telling me. The guy smiled in our faces, broke bread with us, laughed at all our dumb jokes… and t
SARAHI got out of bed, unable to stand the restless feeling that had taken over. The silence of the room felt oppressive, and just lying there made my thoughts race even more. I stretched my arms above my head, rolling my shoulders to ease some of the tension. But it wasn’t enough. My muscles still felt stiff, my mind still a mess.I glanced down at my stomach and placed a hand there, exhaling slowly. “This is all for you,” I whispered softly, a mix of frustration and warmth flooding through me. Marco’s strictness made more sense now, even if it grated on my nerves. But did he think I was some fragile doll who’d shatter if I so much as left my bed? The thought made me snort quietly.I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself.My eyes landed on the pile of clothes in the corner. Folding them wasn’t exactly exciting, but it would keep my hands busy. I moved to the pile and started sorting through it. One shirt, then another. The steady rhythm of crease, fold, stack was almo
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
*********Damien sat in the corner of the safehouse office, dim light hanging above him, casting long shadows across the room. The drink in his hand did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside him. His jaw clenched as he stared at the blank wall ahead, fingers tightening around the glass. He could still hear the gunfire from earlier, see the chaos in his head like it was happening again. The plan was supposed to go clean, fast, efficient. Now, Marco had taken back control.He slammed the glass down on the table, sharp enough that the few men waiting outside the office flinched. He could hear them murmuring beyond the door, probably too scared to step in. He paced the room, every step heavy, every thought sharper than the next. How the hell did Marco’s people turn it around so fast? How did they know? How did this slip through the cracks?Finally, the door creaked open, and two of his men stepped inside, stiff like they were walking into a lion’s den.“Well?” Damien barked, crossing h