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
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
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
SARAHI sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall in front of me, a small smile playing on my lips. Finally. After all the waiting, all the stress, and all the games, I was about to get the upper hand. Isabella thought she could slither her way into our lives, into Marco’s life, and get away with it. But she was wrong. Dead wrong.I couldn’t stop replaying the plan Tony and I had devised. Every detail, every angle—it was perfect. We had covered everything. And soon, her lies, her manipulations, and her smug little smirk would come crashing down. I could already taste the victory, and it was sweet.“She doesn’t even see it coming,” I muttered to myself, the thought giving me a jolt of satisfaction.I stretched, letting out a sigh. For now, I needed to keep up appearances. Pretend like nothing had changed. No suspicion, no slip-ups. The last thing I wanted was to tip her off.I got up, grabbed my laundry basket, and headed for the door. As I reached the hallway, I gave myself a qui
SARAHThe cab rolled to a stop in front of my house, and I hesitated for a moment before climbing in. I slid into the back seat, pulling the door shut behind me, and gave the driver the address Tony had sent me. The café wasn’t far, but the drive felt like an eternity as I sat there, staring out the window, my mind spinning.This was happening. It was all in motion now. There was no turning back.The driver didn’t say much, which I appreciated. The last thing I needed was idle chatter. My thoughts were loud enough. As the city blurred past the window, I tried to focus, to steady my breathing, to keep my hands from trembling. I needed to be calm, collected, ready for whatever came next.I glanced at my phone, the screen lighting up with the address again. The weight of what I was about to do pressed down on me, but it wasn’t fear. No, it was something else. Determination. Resolve. The knowledge that this was the only way to end it.The driver finally spoke, breaking the silence. “We’re
ISABELLAI sat near the window with a half-full glass of wine, legs crossed, posture easy. Outside, the yard stretched quiet under soft light, the fences glowing under the dim wash of security lamps. The wind barely moved. Even the trees felt too still. It looked like peace, but it wasn’t. It was something else. Something pretending to be calm.Behind me, Marcel was laughing, his voice bouncing off the walls like this place was some damn hotel and not the cage it really was. Two of his men stood with him, drinking, cracking jokes like they didn’t have a care in the world. That’s what bothered me. They weren’t tense like they used to be. There was no edge in the air. No clipped words or extra rounds being loaded. Just pride. Stupid, loud pride.Marcel turned a bit, speaking louder now, wanting me to hear. “You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He never does. “I think Marco’s done. Crawled into whatever hole he came out of, dragging his tail behind him. Wallowing in that
SARAHThe cold woke me before the pain did. My body was already curled tight, but it didn’t help. The chill still found its way into my bones, into my stomach, into everything. I tried to stretch, just a little, but my back screamed and my legs cramped. My head throbbed with that dull pressure that never really left. I didn’t even open my eyes right away. I just laid there, breathing through it, waiting for the nausea to pass.I was starving. And still, the idea of food made my stomach twist. It wasn’t just the baby. It was the food they brought. Cold, bland, rough like they’d scraped it off the bottom of a pan and tossed it at me out of pity. Or worse, duty. I’d thrown it up more than once. Now I just took small bites and held it down as long as I could. My throat stayed dry. My mouth too. I’d started cutting what little food I got into pieces, counting the bites like that somehow helped. It didn’t. But it gave me something to do, something to control.I turned onto my side slowly. T
MARCOThe city was already buzzing by the time I stepped into the club. Word had spread like it always did when there was fire involved. Loud. Messy. Unavoidable. The warehouse attack I sent Gio on didn’t just go up in smoke, it sent the exact message I wanted it to, just the one we wanted out there.I kept my head down as I moved past the crowd. Familiar faces, familiar noise. A few of my guys were already drinking like nothing happened, laughing like we hadn’t just made the loudest move in weeks. All part of the script. They were playing their roles. I was about to play mine.I slid into the usual booth in the back. Dark corner. Good view of the whole room. I threw my coat beside me and knocked on the table once. Bartender looked over, already moving.“Double,” I said when he got close, tapping the glass down like I needed it more than air. “And don’t stop unless I say.”Tony was leaning against the wall by the booth, arms crossed, eyes scanning the floor. He always looked like he w
MARCOThe room was quiet. Real quiet. The kind where you can hear someone blink. Denis sat across from me, hands on his knees, eyes low. Petrov leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Tony stood by the window, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping the frame like he couldn’t stand still.I didn’t say much. I just stared at Denis. Made him squirm a little. He knew what was expected.“You can start talking,” I finally said.His head jerked up like I pulled him out of a bad dream. He looked at each of us. Then down again.“Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll talk.”He took a breath. Then it all started pouring out.“Marcel’s base isn’t at the club. That’s just his face. The real spot’s a compound in the industrial zone, the one behind the fake textile plant. Everything happens there. The trucks, the drops, the meetings.”I didn’t move. I kept watching him. Trying to see if he was holding anything back.“There’s a basement setup. Clean. Sealed. That’s where he’s keeping her. Sara
MARCELThe city looked soft from up here. All that noise, all that movement, and still, it bowed. I stood at the window in my suite, cup in hand, nothing but silence around me. That was the kind of power I liked. Quiet. Steady. It meant everything was still running how I wanted it.The espresso was hot, bitter, smooth. Just how I liked it. The robe hung loose on my shoulders. I didn’t need armor in my own kingdom. Marco was definitely out there throwing tantrums, yelling into the wind, kicking at doors no one opened. He thought if he made enough noise, something would shake loose. But that’s all it was, noise. His people were scrambling. Mine were planted.I set the cup down as I went to freshen up. I had a meeting to attend. The new head of the Rossi family.. young, loud, trying to act like he had his brother's shoes on, but everyone in the room could see the fit was wrong. He needed to be reminded who still ran the rhythm of this city.I picked a black suit. Simple. Heavy fabric. N
MARCOI stared at the dartboard across the room. Three darts were stuck in it. One near the bullseye, two scattered like they were thrown without care. I hadn’t touched it in a week. Didn’t feel like playing games. Not until we had something real.The room was quiet, just the sound of the coffee pot clicking under the small warmer. I poured myself a cup, black, no sugar. I needed to stay sharp. Petrov said he had gotten Denis, I could feel it. Something about tonight told me this was it. This was the closest I had been to getting Sarah back.I cracked my knuckles and leaned on the edge of the table, still staring at that board. One dart for Denis. One for Marcel. One for Isabella. That last one would get replaced soon, maybe with a blade. I smiled at that thought.A knock came at the door. I didn’t even turn around.“Yeah?”It was one of the guys from the main floor. “Boss. Petrov’s back. He says he’s downstairs. Dungeon.”I took one more sip of coffee and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go s
PETROVThe engine was quiet, but I still kept my foot light on the brake. Sitting in an unmarked black car in the middle of a warehouse lot at night ain’t glamorous. It’s cold, it’s slow, and you’ve gotta know how to sit in silence without letting it eat you up.Gio sat beside me, chewing on a toothpick. He didn’t say much. That’s why I liked him. Good eyes, sharper hands. One of Marco’s quiet soldiers, but sharp enough to make noise when it counted.I flicked the ash of my cigarette out the half-cracked window. The smoke stayed low inside the car, curling slow, the way my thoughts moved when I was on a tail. We weren’t here to guess. We were here to read the pattern.“He’s in there,” I muttered. “Warehouse across the lot. Denis. Carrying a duffel. No escort.”Gio nodded once. Didn’t need to speak. He knew what that meant. For a guy like Denis, showing up solo? Out of place. Logistics men don’t walk around without backup unless they’re doing something they ain’t supposed to.“Somethin
ISABELLAI needed to see Sarah. Needed to look into her eyes and knock that calm out of her face. I was sick of hearing the guards say she wasn’t making trouble. That she wasn’t even flinching. That she just sat there like she was above all of this.Like this place wasn’t real to her.I walked down to the basement. Two guards at her door stood straight when I showed up. One of them moved to unlock it.“Open it,” I said. My voice didn’t shake.The door creaked and I stepped inside.She was sitting by the window. Again. Her back to the door. Same white T-shirt. Same silent attitude. Like she didn’t even hear me come in.That alone made my jaw clench.I shut the door myself and crossed the room, slow. Waiting for her to move. Say something. Look at me.She didn’t.“You’re quiet,” I said.No answer.“Still dreaming, huh? You think he’s coming for you?”Nothing. She didn’t even turn her head.I walked right behind her chair.“He doesn’t even still know where you are,” I said. “And if he di
MARCOPetrov walked in without knocking. He didn’t have to. The door was open, and when things are heavy like this, you don’t waste time with manners. He stepped into the office and came to a stop near the board behind me. Eyes sharp. Face serious.I didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just stared at the photos, the pins, the lines that connected nothing but dead ends.Then I turned to him. “Denis.”Petrov looked at the picture I was pointing to. “Marcel’s logistics guy?”I nodded. “Yeah. One of our guys spotted him earlier today. Said he was moving different. Not his usual routes. First stop was a fuel depot. He lingered, made a few calls, then drove across town to a shut-down warehouse. Didn’t go in, just parked across from it, like he was checking something. Then he drove to the pier. Got a coffee. Sat there for almost forty minutes. Staring at the water.”Petrov didn’t speak right away. He just stared at Denis’s face like he was reading a puzzle out of it.“That sound like erra