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
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
SARAH The bakery smelled of fresh bread and cinnamon, a comforting aroma that greeted me every morning. I enjoyed the simplicity of our life. Our bakery, though it was small and modest, it was our pride and joy. Papa, had poured his heart and soul into this place, and it was a decent addiction to our community. “Good morning, Mrs. Alvarez! The usual?” I asked, already reaching for a loaf of brown bread. “Good morning, Sarah. Yes, please,” she replied with a warm smile. Handing her the loaf, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. Despite the financial struggles and the countless hours of hard work, I loved every moment spent here. My father and I shared a close bond, working side by side to keep our beloved bakery running. After Mrs. Alvarez left, I returned to kneading dough, humming softly to the tune playing on the radio. My father was in the back, preparing a new batch of new dough. The old Spanish tunes on the radio filled the space with nostalgia, reminding me of my mo
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 pla
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
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
MARCOI stood in front of the board again. Maps. Pins. Strings. Scribbled notes. All of it looking back at me like it had answers. But it didn’t. Not yet.The Bronx setup still replayed in my head. That moment when I saw her. The fake her. How sure I was. The way her hair smelled. Her trembling hands. For a second, I let myself believe it was Sarah. I let my guard down. I walked right into Marcel’s damn show. And he played me like a fool.I stepped closer to the board, staring at a red pin that marked another location upstate. The lead had was still weak, a whisper from a runner who barely made it out alive. But I kept it. I kept every maybe. Because right now, a maybe was all I had.I dragged my fingers through my hair, jaw tight. Every goddamn angle I took just looped me back here. To this board. This silence. And her still missing.“Where the fuck are you, Sarah?” I muttered.The room was dim. Just the lamp by the desk on. Everyone in the house knew to stay away when that light was