MARCOI sat in my study, the morning light filtering through the large windows, casting shadows across the room. The newspaper lay on my desk, and I picked it up, skimming through the headlines. It was the usual mix of political drama, business failures, and celebrity scandals. Nothing particularly interesting, nothing that couldn’t be solved with a few well-placed threats or a strategic buyout.“Idiots,” I muttered, shaking my head at the ineptitude of the so-called leaders in this city. They always managed to screw things up, no matter how easy the solution seemed. Setting the paper down, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath. The world outside might be chaotic, but in here, I controlled everything. Or at least, I liked to think I did.But then my thoughts drifted, and I found myself thinking about Sarah again. More specifically, about that bastard Cain, the one who had dared to lay a hand on her at Lemuel’s party. The thought of it made my blood boil. I could still see th
MARCOI narrowed my eyes, taking a step closer to Cain. His words replayed in my mind, over and over, like a broken record. Marcel. I couldn’t afford to take this lightly.“Where did you hear that name?” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. I needed to know if this scum had any real connection to Marcel or if he was just trying to save his own skin.Cain’s eyes darted around the room, wild with desperation. “Everyone in the dark side of society knows the name Marcel,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “But I… I can lead you to him. Just… please, spare my life.”For a moment, I said nothing, weighing his words carefully. Then I signaled to Tony to put his gun away. The room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I turned to Tony and Carlos, searching their faces for any sign of what they thought.“What do you think?” I asked, keeping my voice steady. “Is he bluffing?”Carlos didn’t hesitate. “He could be faking it, boss. Trying to buy himself time. For all we kno
SARAHMartha had already started trimming the hedges when I joined her in the garden. The sun was warm, not too harsh, and a light breeze made the leaves dance gently around us. I watched her for a moment, admiring the precision of her work. But there was something about just sitting around doing nothing that drove me insane, especially lately. I needed to keep my hands busy, to feel like I was contributing something, anything, to this place.“Martha,” I called out, walking over to her. “Let me help you with that.”She looked up, startled, and immediately shook her head. “Oh no, Miss Sarah. Please, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with this. It’s my job. I can handle it.”I smiled, trying to reassure her. “I know it’s your job, but I’m bored out of my mind. I need something to do, and helping you here seems like a good way to pass the time.”Martha’s eyes widened in alarm, and she stepped in front of the hedge clippers as if to guard them from me. “No, Miss Sarah. I couldn’t possibly al
MARCOI sat in my office, spinning a pocket knife between my fingers, the faint glint of the blade catching the dim light. The motion helped me think, a small distraction from the conversation we were about to have. Tony, Carlos, and Luis stood before me, waiting for my signal to start. “Alright, Tony, what have you got?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the blade.Tony cleared his throat, stepping forward slightly. “According to Cain, this Marcel guy works as a mercenary for various families. That’s about all he knows. Why Marcel’s interested in us or what he’s doing in New York? No clue. Cain wasn’t much help beyond that.”I stopped the blade mid-spin, gripping the handle firmly as I looked up. “So, we’re dealing with a ghost, huh? No clear motives, just someone lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.”Carlos chimed in, trying to downplay the situation. “Look, Marco, we don’t have to get worked up over this. We pop in, take the small fry out, and go about our
MARCOI had Cain sit in the middle of the room, his hands shaking as Tony and the others surrounded him. His face was pale, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he tried to keep himself together. I walked up to him slowly, my gun hanging loosely from my hand, swinging slightly as I moved. The room was dead silent except for the sound of Cain’s shaky breaths.I stopped in front of him, tilting my head slightly as I studied him. “So, Cain,” I started, my voice low, almost a whisper, “you still want to lead us to Marcel? Or should I just put a bullet in you right now and save us all the trouble?”Cain’s eyes widened, and he immediately started to beg, his voice quivering with fear. “Please, Marco… I’ll lead you to Marcel. I swear. Just… just spare my life, alright? I’ll do whatever it takes, just don’t kill me.”I looked at him for a long moment, weighing his words. He was desperate, that much was clear, but desperation could make a man dangerous—or it could make him useful. I nee
MARCOI paced back and forth across the room, the tension building with each step. My mind raced through every possible scenario, every potential snag that could derail this plan. There wasn’t room for mistakes. Not now.Petrov sat hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He had been at it for hours, trying to get eyes on the address Marcel had sent. It was a waiting game, but my patience was wearing thin.I stopped mid-step and turned to him, my voice edged with urgency. “Petrov, you got surveillance on the address yet?”Without looking up, Petrov grunted. “Almost there, Marco. Just a few more minutes.”I clenched my fists, trying to keep my frustration in check. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity. “Hurry up,” I snapped. “We don’t have time to waste.”Petrov didn’t respond, too focused on his task. I resumed my pacing, the floorboards creaking under my boots. The room was stifling, the air thick with anticipation. I couldn’t shake the feeling that
MARCOI paced around the control room, feeling the weight of the plan on my shoulders. The surveillance monitors blinked with static and video feeds from various cameras around the target area. Tony was hunched over a desk, scribbling notes, his eyes never leaving the screens. We were all on edge, waiting for Cain to make his move.“Keep your eyes sharp,” I said to Tony. “We need every detail.”He nodded, adjusting the volume on the mic. “Got it.”The screens showed a steady stream of people passing by, along with a few suspicious cars. I tried to ignore the gnawing worry in my gut. This was a delicate operation. One slip-up, and it could all fall apart.Suddenly, I spotted Cain walking into the frame. My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at Tony, who was already focusing on the feed.Petrov’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Cain, do you read me?”Cain’s reply came through clearly. “Loud and clear.”“Good,” Petrov said, sounding calm but authoritative. “Describe the place for me.
MARCOI watched the screen, my pulse quickening as I saw Cain stepping out of Marcel’s roaming the building. Petrov was still fiddling with the equipment, cursing under his breath as he tried to reconnect the wiretap that had suddenly gone silent.Tony paced the room, a deep frown etched on his face. “Marco, we should wait. Cain might be leading us into a trap. Let’s give this some time, observe what Marcel does next.”I shook my head, not even entertaining the idea. “I’ve waited long enough, Tony. Marcel’s right there, and I’m not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers because Cain decided to pull a stunt.”“Marco,” Tony said, his tone more urgent. “This could be exactly what Marcel wants—get you angry, reckless. You go in there, and it could be a one-way ticket.”I glared at the screen, my jaw tight. I’d worked too hard, come too close to let fear hold me back now. “I don’t care if it’s a trap. Marcel’s been a ghost, always two steps ahead of us. Now, I’ve got a chanc
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. “
MARCOThe city blurred past me as I drove, headlights cutting through the darkness. My fingers tapped against the steering wheel, slow, steady. My pulse didn’t spike. My breathing didn’t change. But inside, something cold settled in my chest.They really tried to kill me. Again.And I wasn’t surprised. That was the thing. It didn’t shock me. It didn’t make me pause. This life, this war, it only ended one way. You either take out the enemy, or they take you out. No in-between. No second chances. And last night? They took their shot. Sarah had to pull the trigger to survive. My wife. My unborn kid in the middle of it. Because of them.The Rossis thought they could take something from me. They thought they could shake me. And maybe years ago, I would’ve given them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I would’ve given Damien Rossi a call, laid it out, given him a chance to fix it before I burned his whole fucking house down.But those days were gone.This wasn’t business anymore. It wasn’t neg
MARCO I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Sarah sleep. The room was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavier after a night like last night. The gunfire, the chaos, the blood. It was all still sitting on my chest, but none of it weighed more than the fact that Sarah had pulled the trigger. That she had to. She wasn’t built for this. I knew that from the beginning. But life didn’t care what someone was built for. It threw them into the fire anyway. And now, she was in too deep. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. I didn’t like the way she looked even in sleep—tense, uneasy, like her body was still trying to fight off whatever threat it thought was coming next. I reached for my glass of water on the nightstand, taking a slow sip, keeping my eyes on her. Sarah shifted, her body stirring like she was fighting her way back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then landing on me. “Morning,” I said, my voice quiet. She barely responded, j