SARAHThe door burst open, and Marco stormed into the room, his sudden outburst startling both Gloria and me. For a moment, he looked almost childlike in his urgency, his eyes darting around the room until they landed on me. He opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to catch himself, taking a deep breath and composing his expression.“Sarah,” he said, his voice more controlled now, though the concern still flickered in his eyes. He walked up to the bed, his movements deliberate. Gloria stood up, ready to leave, but Marco raised a hand. “Stay, please.”Gloria nodded and remained where she was, watching us both with a mixture of curiosity and professionalism.“How are you feeling?” Marco asked, his gaze locking onto mine.I managed a small smile. “Better. Thanks to Gloria here.” I gestured to the nurse.Marco nodded, his expression still serious. “Good. That’s good.” His response was vague, almost distant, as if his mind was racing with a thousand thoughts.Gloria glanced between us
MARCOAs we walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but realize how exhaustedi was. We got to the office and I nodded at him in thanks, stepping into Dr. Frank’s office. As soon as I entered, Frank stood up quickly, his eyes lighting up with recognition.“Godfather,” he said, bending slightly to kiss my hand. “It’s an honor to see you.”“Frank,” I acknowledged, stepping forward and embracing him in a quick, firm hug. “You’re looking well.”“Thanks, Marco. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” he replied, a warm smile on his face.We both took our seats, the atmosphere shifting from formal to familiar. Frank leaned back, a smile playing on his lips.“How’s everything, Marco?” he asked. “I heard you’ve been dealing with some complications.”“It’s been a hell of a week,” I said, leaning forward. “But we’re managing. Sarah is my priority right now.”Frank nodded understandingly. “She’s in good hands here. Fischer will definitely make sure she recovers fully.”“Appreciate that, Frank,” I
SARAHI woke up to the sound of a soft knock on the door, followed by Gloria’s cheerful voice. “Good morning, Sarah. I brought you some breakfast.”I rubbed my eyes, feeling the grogginess of sleep still clinging to me. “Morning, Gloria.”She wheeled a tray into the room, and the smell of fresh coffee and toast filled the air. “How did you sleep?” she asked, setting the tray on the small table beside my bed.“Better than I expected,” I admitted, sitting up slowly. “What’s on the menu?”Gloria smiled, lifting the lids off the dishes. “We have scrambled eggs, toast, some fruit, and a bit of yogurt. And, of course, coffee.”My stomach growled in response, and I realized just how hungry I was. “That sounds amazing. Thank you.”She handed me a cup of coffee first. “Cream and sugar?”“Just a splash of cream, please.”As she prepared my coffee, I picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. It was warm and buttery, just what I needed to start the day. “This is really good.”Gloria chuckled. “
SARAHThe silence between Marco and me was so thick it felt like I could cut it with a knife. As soon as I got in the car, I felt a knot in my stomach tighten. I glanced at Marco from the corner of my eye, but he was focused on the road, his face a mask of calm.I couldn’t help but wonder what he had in store for me because of my escape attempt. My mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. Would he be furious? Would he punish me? I tried to push those thoughts away, but they kept creeping back in.I looked out the window, watching the city pass by. The buildings, the people, the noise—all of it seemed so distant, like it was happening in another world. I felt a wave of regret wash over me. Maybe I should have stayed put, bided my time, found a better opportunity. But it was too late for that now.“What were you thinking, Sarah?” I muttered under my breath, barely audible.Marco glanced over at me but didn’t say anything. I wondered if he heard me. Did he even care w
SARAHI couldn’t believe what was about to happen. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. This couldn’t be real. I had to stop it. I ran to where Marco was seated, dropping to my knees before him.“Marco, please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “Rethink this punishment. They don’t deserve this. It’s all my fault. I’ll take the whippings for both of them. Just don’t hurt them, please.”He looked down at me with cold, unfeeling eyes. Without a word, he flung me off him, his strength sending me sprawling to the floor. I gasped in pain, struggling to get up.“Sarah, you need to see what happens when people make silly decisions around me,” Marco said, his voice low and menacing. “Actions have consequences.”I crawled back to him, my desperation growing. “Please, Marco, they had nothing to do with it. I was the one who planned everything. Punish me instead. Whip me as much as you want, but let them go.”He scoffed, shaking his head. “You really think I’ll change my
MARCOI sat in my office, the silence almost deafening. The events of the day replayed in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the image of Sarah’s tear-streaked face. But I pushed the guilt away. It was a necessary evil. I needed to make a scene, to instill fear in her. It was the only way to ensure she wouldn’t try something like that again.I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t let myself get too relaxed with her,” I muttered to myself. “I can’t afford to let my guard down.”The pain of losing someone you love—it’s something you never forget. I had promised myself I would never experience that again. Allowing Sarah any leeway, showing her any softness, would be a mistake. I couldn’t afford to let her think she could escape my control.“She needs to understand the consequences of her actions,” I said quietly. “If she doesn’t, she’ll never learn.”But even as I said the words, a part of me wondered if there was another way. Did I have to be so brutal? Could I have hand
MARCOI flung my fist on the table pacing back and forth, trying to make sense of everything. The latest attempt to intercept Marcel had failed, and my frustration was mounting. Tony turned to me looking equally worn out but determined."Marco," he started, his voice steady. "I know you're upset about this last attempt, but we're not giving up. We’ll get him."I slammed my fist on the desk. "Tony, we've been at this for weeks. Every lead turns into a dead end. It's like he's always one step ahead."Tony took a deep breath. "I get it. Marcel's slippery, but that doesn't mean he's invincible. We just need to change our approach, think outside the box."I looked at him, my anger simmering just below the surface. "What do you suggest? We've tried everything. Surveillance, informants, hacking his communications. Nothing works."Tony nodded, understanding my frustration. "Yeah, but maybe we’re looking in the wrong places. Marcel’s a ghost, right? He operates in the shadows. What if we use t
SARAHI stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables while Maria worked beside me, stirring a pot on the stove. Since the incident with Marco, Maria and I had grown close. Her steady presence was a comfort in this twisted world.“Maria,” I started, glancing at her. “You’ve been working for Marco for a while, right?”Maria nodded, her eyes focused on the simmering soup. “Yes, it’s been almost five years now.”“Why did you take the job?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, working for someone like Marco… it can’t be easy.”Maria smiled wistfully. “It’s a long story, Sarah. But if you’re really interested, I’ll tell you.”I set the knife down and turned to face her, eager to hear more. “I’d love to know. Please, tell me.”Maria took a deep breath, her hands never stopping their work. “I grew up in a small village, far from the city. We were poor, but my parents did their best to provide for us. I had three younger siblings, and I helped take care of them.”I listened intently, picturing a
TONYLate at night, rain tapping on the windshield, I sat in the car with Petrov outside a grimy little club in Queens. The kind of place where everyone inside’s either running from something or selling to someone who is. I didn’t say a word. Just lit a cigarette, let the smoke hang around while I kept my eyes on the front door. We’d been sitting there a while. Hours, maybe. Days started blending. The city never stopped moving, but I felt like I had. Like I was frozen in this damn seat while the world spun sideways.Petrov sat next to me, hunched a little, scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t talking either. Not like we had much left to say. We were past tired. Past pissed. Past anything normal. What we were now was something else entirely. Just two guys running on fumes and hate.The glow from the streetlamp above us flickered like it was about to die. Kind of fitting. Everything felt like it was on its last legs. The car smelled like smoke, coffee, and sweat. A lot of hours, a lo
MARCOThe office was a wreck. Empty bottles everywhere. Ashtrays full. Blinds shut so tight, barely a sliver of light came through. I hadn’t left the room in days. Didn’t need to. Didn’t want to. The air was thick, stale, like everything inside here had died and no one bothered to bury it.I sat slouched in my chair, suit wrinkled, shirt halfway unbuttoned, tie somewhere on the floor. My gun sat on the desk. Right next to the photo of me and Sarah. She was smiling in it. Big, bright smile. I couldn’t even look straight at it without my stomach turning.I pressed play on the voicemail again.Her laugh filled the room.I leaned back, eyes closed, letting it wash over me.Her laugh.God, that laugh.She’d left that message on a random Tuesday. Just her laughing about something dumb I’d said, telling me to bring home milk or something. I couldn’t even remember the rest. Didn’t matter. It was her voice. Her warmth. That softness she had when she was happy and safe.I pressed play again.An
SARAHThe door creaked open slowly.I squinted as little light spilled in from the hallway, making my already pounding head throb harder. The room had been nothing but darkness, filth, and whispered threats. Now, the light cut through it like a blade, sharp and blinding. My eyes struggled to adjust, but I didn’t need to see to know something had shifted.The guards straightened immediately, their lazy arrogance vanishing. Their boots scraped against the floor as they stepped back, backs stiff, shoulders squared.Someone important had arrived.Then I heard it. Heels clicking against the grimy floor. A slow, confident rhythm. Each step deliberate, unhurried. Whoever it was, they weren’t afraid of this place, of the stench, of the filth.I forced my eyes open, blinking hard as my vision cleared. And then I saw her.Isabella.She stood there, perfectly put together, draped in luxury that didn’t belong in this pit. A silk dress that clung to her figure, nails painted a deep red, makeup fla
SARAHI woke up groggy, my head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to it, over and over again. My skull throbbed with each slow beat of my heart, a dull, crushing pain that made it hard to think. Everything was heavy. My eyelids, my limbs, even my breath felt like it took too much effort.The air pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. It smelled awful—sweat, dampness, something rotten. The kind of stink that clung to a place, to the walls, to the people trapped inside. It crawled into my lungs, making my stomach churn.I tried to move, but a sharp ache shot up my arms. My wrists pulsed with pain. Tied? No. Just stiff, numb from how I had been lying. My fingers tingled as I flexed them. The cold floor bit into my skin, rough and unwelcoming.My thoughts were sluggish, crawling through a thick fog. I blinked hard, trying to push past it, to make sense of anything. My head was too clouded, my body too weak. It felt like waking up from a deep, drugged sleep, the kind where reali
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. “