MARCOThe cold metal of the gun pressed against my neck as I slowly dropped my own weapon, letting it clatter to the floor. I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of the man holding the gun. Cain. The sight of him sparked a fresh wave of anger that roared through me. I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him.“You,” I growled, my voice low and venomous. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”Cain’s lips curled into a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and mockery. “Ah, but you didn’t, did you?” he taunted, a cruel laugh escaping his throat. “You were foolish enough to believe my act, Marco. And now look where that’s gotten you.”I wanted to lunge at him, to wipe that smug grin off his face, but I knew better. Not with the gun so close to my throat, not with Tony bleeding out on the floor just a few feet away. The bitter taste of betrayal sat heavy on my tongue. I had trusted Cain, given him a chance, and now he was the one holding my life in his hands.
MARCOI stood there, feeling the cold steel of Marcel’s gun pressed on me, the weight of the situation sinking in. My mind raced, but I couldn’t see a way out. This was it. I could feel the darkness closing in, could almost taste the bitterness of defeat.But then, like a beacon in the storm, an image of Sarah flashed through my mind. Her face, her smile—everything I had fought for, everything I was about to lose. I had to stay alive. Not for me, but for her. I wasn’t going to let Marcel take me out, not yet.Just as I was about to give in to despair, I heard Petrov’s voice crackle through the wire in my ear. “Marco, Carlos and Luis are almost in position. Hold on, just a little longer. Do whatever it takes to stay alive.”A surge of hope rushed through me, giving me a renewed sense of purpose. I couldn’t let Marcel or Cain see the shift in my resolve, though. I had to play this smart, drag this out long enough for Carlos and the boys to make their move.I took a deep breath, forcing
MARCO“What do you mean by ‘a girl you loved’?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion and frustration. None of this was making any sense. Who was this girl he was talking about? Why did he seem to think I had anything to do with her?Marcel’s face twisted in anger as he snapped, “Of course, you wouldn’t know! All you do is trample on people, Marco. It’s in your blood. It runs in your damn family.”His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn’t make sense of them. I stared at him, trying to piece together the fragments of information he was throwing at me. “What the hell are you talking about, Marcel?” I demanded. “Who is this girl?”For a moment, Marcel just looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of hatred and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite place. Then, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of what he was about to say was too much for him to bear.“Noelle,” he said quietly, almost as if the name itself was a burden.The world seemed to t
SARAH I was curled up on the couch in the upstairs living room, a blanket draped over my legs as I watched some light-hearted comedy flick. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the TV screen. It was one of those rare, peaceful nights where everything seemed to fall into place, where I could just relax and not think about the chaos that usually surrounded me.“Wow, things have been pretty chill lately,” I muttered to myself, my eyes still glued to the screen. “Almost like a miracle.”A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched the characters on the screen bumble through their silly antics. It was nice, being able to laugh at something so trivial, something that didn’t involve the twisted reality I’d been thrown into. I snuggled deeper into the couch, letting out a content sigh. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t entirely hate my life. Not all of it, at least. Sure, there were parts that made me want to scream, but there were also these quiet moments of calm, li
SARAH I had no idea how long I sat there on the couch after Carlos hung up. Time seemed to lose all meaning as I tried to process the fact that Marco had been shot. And Tony too. It didn’t seem real. It was like something out of one of those crime dramas I used to watch to pass the time. But this wasn’t a show. This was my life.When I finally forced myself to get up, I felt like I was moving in slow motion. My legs were shaky, my hands trembling as I made my way upstairs to my room. I didn’t even know what I was doing, just that I needed to do something, anything, to keep myself from falling apart.I opened my closet and stared at the rows of clothes, my mind completely blank. What was I supposed to wear to a hospital? It wasn’t like I’d ever been in this situation before. But then again, nothing about my life had been normal ever since Marco walked into it.Finally, I grabbed a simple black dress and threw it on, not caring how it looked. Black felt appropriate somehow. It matched
SARAH Walking into the hospital room, I was immediately hit by the sterile smell of antiseptic, mixed with the faint scent of something metallic, maybe blood. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting a harsh, white glow on everything. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene like I was moving in slow motion.And then I saw him.Marco was lying in the hospital bed, his body nearly obscured by the mass of wires, tubes, and machines surrounding him. An IV drip was hooked into his arm, delivering what I assumed was pain medication, while another tube fed oxygen through his nose. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his chest, where I knew the bullet had hit, and a heart monitor beeped steadily at his side, each sound reminding me that he was still alive—barely. His skin was pale, almost ghostly, and the sight of him like this made my stomach twist painfully.It felt like the ground beneath me was giving way. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The tears came befo
SARAHI stepped out of Marco’s hospital room, my mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of everything. How was I supposed to feel about Marco telling me he loved me? It wasn’t like I’d been expecting it, not in a million years. And yet, when he said it, there was a part of me—a small, traitorous part—that liked hearing those words from him.But I hated that I felt that way. Marco literally abducted me, pulled me into his dangerous world without a second thought. He was reckless, controlling, and had caused me more pain than I cared to admit. How could I possibly feel anything for him other than anger and resentment?And yet… there it was. That stupid, fluttering feeling in my chest that made me want to believe him. To believe that maybe, just maybe, he did love me. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? How could I ever trust him, let alone allow myself to care for him? It didn’t make sense, and the conflic
SARAHA soft tap on my shoulder pulled me out of a dreamless sleep. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then it came again, more insistent this time. I blinked my eyes open, feeling disoriented and groggy. My body ached as if I had run a marathon, and my head throbbed with a dull pain that made it hard to focus. When my vision finally cleared, I saw Carlos standing in front of me, his expression a mix of concern and impatience.“Sarah,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “how are you feeling?”I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “I’m fine… just a headache and… I guess I’m a little out of it.” My voice came out hoarse, and I realized how dry my throat was.Carlos handed me a bottle of water. “Here, drink this. You need to stay hydrated after everything.”I took the bottle from him and sipped slowly, letting the cool water soothe my dry throat. As I drank, the events of the past few hours came rushing back—the blood donation, Marco’s condition, the whirlwind