MARCO
The ride back to the estate was silent. My men knew better than to question me right now, not when I was deep in thought. “Sarah..” I muttered to myself. , seeing her action at the bakery, had been an unexpected surprise. I hadn’t planned on her—hadn’t planned on any of this, really. But sometimes, life throws curveballs. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment. Her face flashed before me: bold, fierce, and simply captivating. There was something about her that stirred something wild within me. I loved breaking the wills of stern girls, and Sarah just had “challenge” written all over her. When we finally pulled up to the estate, I got out of the car and motioned for my men to follow me into my office. Once we were all inside, I closed the door and turned to face them. “Change of plans,” I announced, my voice steady. “We’re not touching Santiago. Not yet, anyway.” Tony, my younger brother and second-in-command, looked confused. “But boss, I thought the plan was to rough up the old fool, make him understand why he should never take the De Luca name for granted?.” I shook my head. “Sarah.. The girl at the bakery today was definitely his daughter. There’s something about her. Seeing her in action at the bakery… it aroused something in me.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “And that changes our plans how?” I took a deep breath, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I love breaking the wills of stern girls. There’s a fire in Sarah that I want to extinguish, a strength I want to bend to my will. Roughing up Santiago might get us what we want in the short term, but if we play this right, we can get much more.” One of my other men, Carlos, chimed in. “So, what do we do instead Boss?” “Lay off Santiago for now. He can can continue playing bakery man for the little time he's got. I want you to focus on keeping tabs on Sarah. Follow her, learn her routines, understand her every move.” Tony nodded slowly, processing my words. “You want us to stalk her?” “Not stalk,” I corrected, though the word didn’t bother me. “Just keep an eye on her. I want to know everything. Where she goes, who she talks to, what she likes, what she fears.” Another man, Luis, spoke up. “Boss, this sounds risky. What if she finds out?” I met his gaze, my expression hard. “You know better than slipping up. You make sure does the find out. You’ll be careful. We need to gather information before I make our my move.” Tony glanced around at the other men, then back at me. “Alright, boss. We’ll keep an eye on her.” “Good,” I said, feeling a strange mix of excitement and anticipation. “This isn’t just about power. It’s about control. And I intend to control Sarah.” “Good,” I said, satisfied. “I want regular updates. And remember, no one touches her. She’s mine to deal with.” The men nodded, and I could see the loyalty in their eyes. They knew better than to question my decisions, especially when it came to matters of my interest. “Now get out of here,” I ordered, waving them away. “I need to think.” They filed out of the office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I poured myself a drink and sat down at the desk, staring into the amber liquid. Sarah was a complication, but she was also an opportunity. Breaking her would be a challenge, and I loved challenges. I took a sip of my drink, savoring the burn as it went down. The memory of Sarah’s defiant gaze lingered in my mind. She was strong, but strength could be broken. It was just a matter of finding the right pressure points. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come in,” I called, already knowing who it would be. Tony stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Boss, there’s something else. While we were at the bakery, I noticed a couple of guys hanging around outside. They didn’t look like locals.” “Go on,” I said, intrigued. “I did some digging. Turns out, they’re connected to the Rossi family. Seems like they’ve got an interest in Santiago too.” I frowned, my mind racing. The Rossi family was a problem. They were our biggest rivals, always looking for ways to undermine us. If they were interested in Santiago, it could complicate things. “Keep an eye on them,” I ordered. “I don’t want any surprises.” Tony nodded and left, leaving me alone once more. I drained my glass and set it down with a decisive thud. This was getting more complicated by the minute, but I thrived on complications. They kept things interesting. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. Sarah’s face appeared once more, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Yes, she would be a challenge. But she would also be mine. It was only a matter of time.” I said out loud. SARAH After Marco and his men left, the bakery felt oddly quiet. I locked the door behind them, my hands still shaking. I took a deep breath and went to find Papa in the back. “Papa,” I called, my voice shaky. “We need to talk.” He turned around, concern etched on his face. “What is it, Sarah? You look pale.” “Some men came in today,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady. “They were rough, making a mess, and harassing me. One of them even grabbed Mr. Morales’s wallet.” Papa’s eyes widened. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” I shook my head. “No, but it was close. Then, a strange man showed up. He stopped them and made them apologize, he seemed to be their boss.” Papa’s face tightened, a nervous glint in his eyes. “Strange, you say?” “Yes. Tall, dark eyes, commanding presence. Seemed like a really shady man, Papa?” Papa hesitated, then shook his head. “Just be careful, Sarah. Men like that can be dangerous.” I frowned. “It’s funny, though. You didn’t hear any of the racket? The shouting? The displays getting knocked over?” He looked away, wiping his hands on a towel. “I was busy in the back. Sometimes I don’t hear everything.” I didn’t believe him, but I let it go. “Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful too.” He nodded, but there was something in his eyes, a worry he couldn’t hide. “Let’s lock up and head home.” We locked the doors and set everything for the night. As we walked home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Papa seemed more uneasy than I’d ever seen him. “Papa,” I said softly, “is there something you’re not telling me?” He sighed deeply, avoiding my gaze. “Just be careful, Sarah. There are things you don’t need to worry about.” His words only made me more anxious. What was he hiding? And why did Marco’s presence affect him so much?SARAHI laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the incident at the bakery. That guy who walked in—yeah, he was undeniably good-looking. The kind of looks that make you glance twice. But, ugh, that cocky attitude. I hated cocky guys. They always thought they could get whatever they wanted just because they flashed a smile or said the right things. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping me out of my thoughts. I grabbed it and saw Nicole’s name flashing. “Hey, crazy girl!” I answered, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. “Hey, Sarah! Guess what tomorrow is?” Nicole’s voice was practically vibrating with excitement. “Hmm, let me think… your birthday?” I teased. “Bingo! And you know what that means—we’re hitting up the biggest club in town to celebrate!” I frowned, feeling a bit skeptical. “A club? You know I’m not really into that scene, Nic.” “Oh, come on! It’s my birthday! We have to do something big. Plus, you need a break. You’ve been all work and no play la
SARAH “You’re insane! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” I screamed, my voice barely audible over the throbbing music in the lounge. The air felt heavy with smoke and sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. Marco’s smug expression didn’t waver. “You’ll see, Sarah. You’ll come around.” I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him for another second. I spun around and pushed through the crowd. As I reached the door, Marcel stepped in front of me, concern written all over his face. “Hey, you alright?” I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak without breaking down. “I need to go,” I muttered, trying to sidestep him. “Sarah, what happened?” Marcel persisted, his brow furrowed. “I just… I need to leave,” I repeated, brushing past him. My steps quickened as I made my way through the club, the pulsating music and flashing lights becoming too much to bear. I felt like I was suffocating. I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to Nicole: “Had to leave. Don’t worry abo
SARAH I was blindfolded, my hands bound in front of me as the car bumped along a rough road. My heart raced, the sound of the tyres on gravel filling my ears. Where were they taking me? My mind swirled with fear. I tried to calm myself, but the darkness only made my thoughts more terrifying. Had they found out about our plan to run away? My mind raced with fear and regret. What if something had happened to my father? My heart ached at the thought of him, alone and worried. I strained to hear the men’s conversation, hoping to catch a clue about my fate or my father’s safety. “You think the boss will go easy on her?” one of the men asked, his voice rough and casual like he was discussing the weather. “Hell no,” another replied with a chuckle. “You saw how pissed he was. She’s lucky if she gets out of this without a few broken bones.” My stomach churned at their words. My father’s face flashed in my mind, his kind eyes filled with worry and fear. Had they already gotten to him? W
SARAH The car ride was quiet, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional groan from my father. Marco had instructed his men to take us home, but not before stopping at a clinic to get my father’s injuries cleaned up. I sat by the car window, the cool night air on my face, trying to process everything that had happened. Marco’s threats echoed in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last. I fought back tears, not wanting to show any more weakness. My father needed me to be strong right now, even if I felt like I was falling apart inside. When we arrived at the clinic, they led us inside. The place was small and discreet, perfect for keeping things under the radar. A doctor came out, took one look at my father, and quickly set to work. I watched as he cleaned and bandaged my father’s wounds, my heart breaking at the sight. I felt so helpless, caught in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. After what felt like an eternity, we were back in the car, heading home. I sta
I sat silently in the car, the sound of the engine blending with my thoughts. The road stretched out before us, flanked by tall trees and rolling fields. The scenery passed in a blur, but I tried to focus on it, anything to distract myself from the dread forming in my stomach. The ride began to slow, and I looked up, startled. We approached a pretty, ornate gate. The driver honked, and the gate swung open smoothly. We drove in, and I felt a lump form in my throat. As the car came to a stop, Martha and Anne got out first, their heels clicking on the gravel. I followed, my legs feeling shaky. The compound was stunning—manicured lawns, pretty flowers, and a grand mansion at the center. It was the kind of place I’d only seen in magazines, the kind of place that spoke of power and wealth. I forced myself to look away, to not be taken in by the allure. “Stop it”, I told myself. This isn’t beautiful. It’s a prison. Marco’s prison. My mind raced, chastising myself for even finding a f
As we left the church, the difference between Marco and me was crystal clear. I felt like a pawn in some twisted game, while Marco had that smug look, like he'd just won a prize. The reception hall was huge and filled with people celebrating a marriage that felt more like a hostile takeover to me.Marco's hand stayed glued to my waist, his grip firm and unyielding. Every touch was a reminder that I was now his, whether I liked it or not. I walked beside him, my posture stiff, my face a mask of cold indifference. Guests swarmed around us, congratulating us on our union.“Congratulations, Marco. You’ve outdone yourself with this one,” one man said, clapping Marco on the back. “Thank you, Lorenzo,” Marco replied smoothly, his charm never faltering. “We’re very happy.”I forced a tight smile, nodding politely. My eyes scanned the room, looking for an escape, but there was none. Marco's grip tightened slightly, as if sensing my thoughts.“Sarah, you look stunning,” a woman gushed, her eye
I woke up the next morning, still feeling the weight of last night’s encounter with Marco. I dressed quickly, determined to face him with as much composure as I could muster. When Marco finally stirred, he looked disoriented. Good, I thought. At least he wouldn’t have the upper hand completely. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice groggy. I crossed my arms and gave him a cold stare. “You came into my room reeking of alcohol and tried to force yourself on me,” I replied flatly. Marco smirked, his eyes narrowing as he assessed me. “Did it work?” I felt a surge of anger. “The least you could do is show some gratitude for not leaving you on the floor all night,” I snapped. He chuckled darkly. “I owe you no gratitude. You seem to forget that you’re my wife. My possession.” The words hit me like a slap. “I am not your possession, Marco,” I retorted. “You can’t just treat me like a thing you own.” He moved closer, the space between us charged with tension. “You think you ha
MARCOI sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the club, the thumping bass running through my body. The girl had left a few minutes ago, and I had time to think. My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She had been a distraction, something to calmly take my mind off things. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn't get into it.I took a sip of my drink, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat. Since when have I become this sensitive? The life I lead was dangerous, and any moment of weakness could be my downfall. I couldn’t afford distractions, especially ones that made me question my decisions.I glanced around the club, watching people lose themselves in the music, the alcohol, the fleeting moments of pleasure. Was I any different? No. I couldn’t let myself be.I stood up, my mind firming with resolve. It was time to go. I had indulged enough nonsense for one night. I needed to get back to reality, back to the life I had built with blood and sweat.As I made my way through the line of peopl
MARCOThe sound of gunfire outside was getting closer, louder. Each shot echoed like a drumbeat of inevitability, and I could see the panic setting in on Danzo’s face. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for an escape that wasn’t there.“You hear that, Danzo?” I said, leaning back in my chair. My wrists were still tied, but my voice was steady. “That’s the sound of your grand plan crumbling. Everything you set up here? It’s falling apart. And you’re dying here today.”Danzo’s head snapped toward me, his jaw tightening. For a second, he looked like he was going to lunge at me, but he held back. Instead, he pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt, his fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white.“Status!” he barked into the device, pacing in tight circles like a cornered animal. “What’s going on out there?”There was a pause on the other end, filled with static and the faint sound of chaos—shouting, gunfire, something heavy crashing to the ground. Finally, a vo
MARCO The ropes around my wrists burned as I strained against them, my jaw tight enough to crack a tooth. Danzo paced back and forth like a predator toying with its prey, his smirk wide and arrogant. His voice dripped with satisfaction, every word landing like a calculated blow. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he said, pausing to glance at me. “All this… it’s personal, Marco. You made it personal the moment you threw me to the wolves.” I stared him down, refusing to let the venom in his words show any effect. “You think I’m afraid of you?” “Oh, I don’t need you to be afraid. Not yet, anyway,” he said, laughing softly. “But you should be. You always underestimated me, Marco. Always thought I’d stay in your shadow, didn’t you?” I said nothing, focusing instead on Sarah, who sat just a few feet away, bound and trembling. Her eyes met mine, and the fear in them sliced through me like a blade. Danzo followed my gaze and chuckled darkly. “Ah, yes. The princess. Don’t worry, Ma
MARCOThe goons gathered my weapons with smug satisfaction, tossing them onto the floor like trophies. My knife. My Glock. The backup pistol. Each piece felt like a part of me being stripped away. I clenched my jaw as the masked man stooped to pick up my gun. He held it up to the dim light, turning it over in his hand like he’d just found buried treasure.“Nice piece,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he inspected the setup. “Who’s your plug, Marco? This stuff’s top-tier. Custom job? Or do you just know the right people?”I didn’t respond, glaring at him in silence. My hands itched to grab it back, to feel the weight of it in my palm, but my wrists were bound tightly behind my back.“Not much of a talker, are you?” he continued, pacing slowly in front of me. He raised the gun and mimed aiming it, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. This feels good. Might keep it. Hope you don’t mind.”I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I focused on what they hadn’t found—the tiny chip in my boo
MARCOThe silence inside the narrow hallway was almost unbearable. The dim, flickering light above me buzzed faintly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. My boots clicked softly on the metal floor as I moved further in, my breaths shallow and controlled. Every step felt heavier than the last, each one carrying me deeper into uncertainty.“Petrov,” I whispered, pressing a finger to the mic in my ear. “Petrov, can you hear me?”Nothing. Just static.I paused, my heart thudding harder as the realization hit me. The connection was dead. Whether it was deliberate or accidental, I was on my own now.“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the hallway for any sign of movement. My hand instinctively drifted toward the gun hidden beneath my jacket. I didn’t pull it out yet, but just feeling its presence steadied me a little. Whatever was waiting for me here, I wasn’t about to face it unarmed.The hallway stretched further ahead, leading to an open door on the left. The sh
MARCOThe night air clung to me like a heavy cloak, thick with tension and the metallic scent of salt from the nearby docks. As I stepped out of the car, the first thing I did was adjust the mic in my ear. Petrov’s faint voice buzzed briefly in the connection, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. But still, the silence surrounding me felt absolute, broken only by the distant hum of machinery and the soft crunch of gravel under my boots.My hand hovered close to my side, grazing the cold steel of the gun tucked under my jacket. I didn’t draw it, not yet, but the feel of it was a small comfort. The shipyard was a maze of shadows and towering containers, each one a potential hiding place. My eyes darted left, then right, sweeping for movement. Nothing. Not yet.“Marco, can you hear me?” Petrov’s voice crackled in my ear, low but clear.I pressed the mic lightly. “Loud and clear.”“Good,” he replied. “We’ve got eyes on the perimeter. Cameras are feeding us everything in real t
MARCOThe room was silent except for the smooth metallic sound of zippers being undone as Dimitri revealed his collection. The bag laid open on the table like a treasure chest—polished steel and black carbon shining under the dim light. Dimitri, ever the perfectionist, straightened the weapons out with precision, each gun lined up like soldiers ready for inspection.“Don Marco,” Dimitri began, his voice low and steady, “everything here is the best of the best. Tuned to your specifications. You know me—I don’t do sloppy.”I stepped forward, running my hand along the cold steel of a semi-automatic. It felt good in my hand, the weight just right, balanced and deadly. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I said, cocking the gun to feel its mechanism. Smooth. No drag.Dimitri’s lips quirked into the faintest smile. “Try it out. The recoil on that one is practically non-existent. It’s custom-built for speed and precision. The kind of weapon that doesn’t just take a man down—it sends a message.”I r
MARCOI set the phone down slowly, feeling its cold weight in my hand as the call ended. The finality of it pressed down on me like a thick fog—heavy, unnerving. He had confirmed my resignation. He’d told me where to pick Sarah up. But none of it felt right, like waking up from a bad dream only to realize you’re still stuck in it. The silence in the room was too still, too loud, broken only by the steady, muted breaths of Tony and Petrov beside me. They waited, both of them watching me closely, and I forced myself to take a deep breath, to clear the swirl of unease that kept nagging at the back of my mind.Tony was the first to break the silence, leaning back in his chair with that usual smirk—half-reassuring, half-infuriating. “See? I told you this would happen.” He stretched his arms out, almost too casual, too satisfied. “First things first—Sarah is safe, Marco. She’s alive, which is a damn good factor in all this.” He paused, raising a brow. “Now? Now it’s our turn. Time to hit th
SARAHI was too numb to resist as Danzo’s men closed in around me, each rough hand on my arm or shoulder pushing me forward. The small spark of defiance I’d clung to, the one that had gotten me this far, was all but extinguished now, buried under the weight of failure. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Danzo. But I could feel his gaze, that amused, twisted satisfaction radiating off him.Once they brought me back to the same sterile room and practically threw me onto the soft bed, I let out a strangled, defeated breath. The warmth of the sheets felt mocking now, a reminder of my own foolish hope just minutes ago.One of Danzo’s men shoved my shoulders down, forcing me back into the bed. His grip was merciless, his eyes indifferent as he strapped me down with the restraints I’d worked so hard to free myself from before. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. It grounded me, reminded me I was still alive, for whatever that was worth.Danzo strolled in casu
SARAHI woke up with a sharp jolt, my whole body aching. The first thing I noticed was the pain, but it wasn’t the same kind I was used to—the sharp, throbbing pain of captivity. No, this was different. It was dull, like a thud in the back of my skull that wouldn’t leave, and everything else felt sore in a way I didn’t recognize. I tried to open my eyes, but the light burned through my lids, forcing them back closed. I groaned, my hand instinctively going to my head, hoping the pressure would ease, but as my fingers grazed my scalp, something felt wrong.I froze. Something was on my wrist. Something cold. I lifted my hand slowly and felt something thick and soft, like a bandage, but it wasn’t a bandage. It felt more… like medical tape. I opened my eyes fully, blinking to adjust to the light. What I saw made my stomach drop.I was in a bed, but not the hard, cold floor I was used to. I was lying down, my body wrapped in soft, clean sheets, with an IV drip stuck in my arm, attached to a