MARCO I sat at my desk, my eyes fixed on the ledger before me. The columns of numbers blurred into one another, mocking me with their impenetrable logic. No matter how hard I tried to focus, to force my mind into the calm precision I was known for, it felt like grasping at smoke. The harder I tried, the more elusive it became. I leaned back in my chair with a sharp sigh, running a hand through my hair. The scattered papers, the quiet hum of the office—it all felt like a testament to my failure. I’d been sitting here for hours, pretending to work, trying to keep my mind from going where it always went. But nothing worked. The numbers refused to make sense, and my thoughts refused to stay in line. This wasn’t me. I was always in control. Always sharp. But lately, it felt like control had slipped through my fingers. Like the more I tried to hold onto it, the faster it unraveled. I hated the feeling. Hated that I couldn’t snap my fingers and make it all go away. I pushed back my ch
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
MARCOThe office was dead quiet, the kind of silence that made the tick of the clock on the wall sound like a drumbeat. The only other noise was the rustle of papers as I ran through the pile on my desk. Contracts, invoices, shipment logs—it was all the usual shit. Stuff I could practically do in my sleep by now. I signed off on the weapon shipments first, making sure the docks were clear for the incoming load from Eastern Europe. Then I moved to the laundering reports, checking the cash flow through our fronts—clubs, restaurants, real estate. Everything seemed to be running like clockwork.But my mind wasn’t in it.Petrov’s last words from that call still echoed in my head. He’d been vague—too vague for my liking. The whole thing about “unexpected shifts” and “watch your back.” It wasn’t like him to be cryptic. Petrov didn’t deal in riddles, and the fact that he was suddenly choosing his words carefully had me on edge. I didn’t want to overthink it, but I couldn’t help it. I had Sara
MARCOThe tires crunched against the gravel as I pulled into the office building’s lot, the usual buzz of early morning activity humming in the background. But none of it registered. My mind was still stuck on Petrov’s call, his words looping over and over like they were burned into my skull.“There’s a leak, Marco. Someone close. Watch your back.”I killed the engine, staring out the windshield for a moment longer before stepping out of the car. The cool morning air hit my face, but it didn’t do a damn thing to shake off the heaviness sitting on my chest. I grabbed my suitcase from the backseat, slamming the door shut harder than necessary. The sound echoed in the parking lot, but I barely noticed.As I walked toward the building, a few of the guys outside greeted me—nods, quick “Mornin’, boss,” the usual routine—but I didn’t even glance their way. Their voices were just background noise, fading into the mess of thoughts swirling in my head. My focus was shot to hell, and that wasn’t
SARAHI woke up to the soft glow of morning creeping in through the curtains, but it didn’t bring that warmth it usually did. Instead, it felt like the light was highlighting everything I was trying not to think about. My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, tracing the small imperfections in the plaster, anything to distract myself from the nagging feeling in my chest.Marco’s steady breathing beside me was usually comforting, but today, it felt like a reminder of everything I wasn’t sure about anymore. The words I overheard last night played on a loop in my mind, each time pulling tighter at the anxiety twisting in my stomach.“We can’t be too careful. Someone’s leaking information from the inside.”He hadn’t seen me standing there, tucked just out of sight by the hallway wall, listening to the clipped edge in his voice as he spoke to his worker. The tension in his tone, the sharpness in his words—it wasn’t just business. It was something more, something dangerous. And no matter how mu
SARAHThe soft scent of fresh paint lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of Marco’s cologne as he stood beside me, sleeves rolled up, paintbrush in hand. The nursery was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows on the walls we were trying to turn into something perfect—something safe.Marco dipped his brush into the pale blue paint, then paused, tilting his head. “I still think we should’ve gone with the sage green,” he said, his tone light but his brow slightly furrowed, like this was a high-stakes decision.I chuckled, standing back to look at the wall. “You’re only saying that because you think blue is cliché.”“Well, it is.” He gave me a playful smirk, one that made my heart do that stupid little flip, the same way it had since the day I fell for him. Dangerous. Beautiful. Mine.I picked up my own brush, swiping a bold streak of blue across the wall. “Too late now. Besides, it’s soft. Calming.”Marco raised an eyebrow, stepping closer.
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