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
SARAHI had tried everything—reasoning with him, pleading, even resorting to silent treatment—but nothing worked. Marco was as stubborn as ever, determined to leave the hospital against all logic. Hours had passed, and I’d eventually given up. There was no point in trying to convince him anymore. The man was impossible.I sat in a chair by the window, staring blankly outside, lost in my thoughts. The steady rhythm of the hospital’s machinery hummed in the background, a constant reminder that we were still in this sterile, suffocating place. But Marco didn’t seem to notice. He was focused on something else entirely—something I couldn’t quite understand.My mind kept drifting back to the conversation we had earlier. His determination to leave, the way he had dismissed my concerns, and that strange, serious look in his eyes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something, something important. But what could it be? What was so urgent that he couldn’t stay here and recover like
MARCOThe car’s engine hummed low as I pulled into the driveway, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. My head throbbed, a dull ache that had been my constant companion these past two days. Work had been relentless—meetings, negotiations, and putting out fires that seemed to spring up faster than I could extinguish them.Handling the family’s affairs was never easy, but the past forty-eight hours had been especially draining. There had been an ambush at one of our warehouses, and while we managed to fend off the attack, the losses were significant. Supplies damaged, men injured—it was chaos. On top of that, there were whispers of disloyalty within the ranks. I had spent hours interrogating, cross-referencing every bit of information, trying to root out the traitor.I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders as I parked and stepped out of the car. The cool evening air did little to soothe my tension. As I approached the house, two guards at the front door straightened immediately.“Ev
SARAHThe tension in the dining room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I sat across from Isabella, my fork idly moving the food on my plate. She seemed distracted, her gaze darting between her plate and the glass of water by her side. Marco’s absence was both a blessing and a curse. It gave me the perfect opportunity to speak freely, but it also meant I had no buffer if things went south.I cleared my throat softly and leaned forward, trying to sound casual. “So,” I started, breaking the silence, “how have you been feeling lately? You’ve been keeping to yourself a lot. I hope everything’s okay.”Isabella looked up, her expression unreadable at first. She gave me a small, polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve been fine. Just… busy with errands, you know. There’s always something to take care of.”I nodded, keeping my tone light. “I can imagine. Especially with the baby on the way. How’s your health? Have you been keeping up with your appointments?”Her smile fa
SARAH The door shut behind Tony with a soft click, and I turned, my heart pounding in anticipation. His face was a mix of triumph and caution, and I knew immediately he had news. “Well?” I asked, crossing my arms to keep my hands from trembling. “What did Victor say?” Tony pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His expression darkened as if he were replaying the interrogation in his head. “He admitted everything,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Marco’s not the father. Victor falsified the DNA report on Isabella’s orders. She bribed him.” I felt the room spin for a moment, my breath catching in my chest. “She bribed him?” I echoed, barely able to believe it. “She really did it… and Marco has no idea?” Tony nodded grimly. “Not just that. Victor said she wasn’t working alone. Marcel threatened him to make sure he went along with the plan. This is bigger than just Isabella trying to trap Marco.” My mind raced, trying to connect the dot
THIRD PERSONTony paced back and forth in the dimly lit living room, the glow of his phone screen casting sharp shadows across his face. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic click of his shoes against the hardwood floor and the occasional buzz of his phone as he redialed the same number for the third time.“Come on, pick up,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the clock on the wall. His patience was wearing thin, but his determination remained intact. This was too important to let slide.Finally, the call connected, and a gruff voice on the other end answered. “Tony. Got some updates for you.”Tony stopped pacing and stood still, his focus sharpening instantly. “Yeah? What do you have?”“The guy you’re after—Victor,” the man began, his tone measured but sure. “We’ve got a handle on him. Been tracking his daily routine for a few days now. Turns out, he’s not exactly living like your average lab tech.”Tony raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”“Word is, he’s recently come
SARAHShowing up at the hospital to investigate felt unreal. I couldn’t shake the irony of it all—hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, sanctuaries of truth, where people put their trust in tests and results. Yet here I was, convinced that something as crucial as Marco’s DNA test had been tampered with, and the trail of deception had led me straight to the doors of this institution.Every step toward the entrance felt heavy, like I was dragging the weight of my doubts and fears behind me. This wasn’t just about Marco or Isabella anymore. It was about the truth, about justice. If someone had tampered with his test results, they had played with his life—and mine.Tony walked beside me, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, his expression neutral but sharp. He always had this way of staying calm, of making me feel like we weren’t walking into the lion’s den. But I couldn’t help the nerves twisting in my stomach.“This is a big risk,” I muttered, breaking th
SARAHI couldn’t shake the unease in my chest, the gnawing sensation that something sinister was at play. Those messages I’d found on Isabella’s phone were like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit. Marcel—the same man who had nearly killed Marco—was texting her. Why? What was the plan? I’d spent the better part of the day wracking my brain, going over every possible scenario, but none of my conclusions gave me any comfort.Was she working with Marcel? Was this about money? Revenge? Control? My thoughts circled back to the vague instructions in those texts—keeping Marco distracted, causing turmoil. But to what end? And why was Isabella still here, moving through this house like she belonged, when every fiber of my being screamed that she didn’t?I sighed heavily, putting down the crochet hook I’d been using to try to calm my nerves. The yarn sat limp in my lap, a testament to how little I’d managed to accomplish. I wasn’t going to get anywhere sitting here and stewing in my own thoughts
SARAHThe rhythmic motion of my hands moving the crochet hook through the yarn was oddly soothing. It was one of the few things that could keep my mind calm these days. I sat on the living room couch, determined to finish the little blanket I’d started weeks ago. The soft, repetitive motion allowed me to focus on something other than the chaos that had become my life.Across the room, Isabella was lounging on another couch, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t said a word to me since she’d entered the room, and I wasn’t about to start a conversation. The silence between us was sharp, almost suffocating, but I preferred it over whatever fake kindness she’d try to throw my way. I kept my eyes fixed on my work, ignoring her presence entirely.Every now and then, I’d hear her let out a soft laugh or the click of her nails tapping against the phone screen. It was infuriating how comfortable she seemed, sitting there like she owned the place. I tightened my grip on the yarn, forcing myse
MARCO I sat at my desk, my eyes fixed on the ledger before me. The columns of numbers blurred into one another, mocking me with their impenetrable logic. No matter how hard I tried to focus, to force my mind into the calm precision I was known for, it felt like grasping at smoke. The harder I tried, the more elusive it became. I leaned back in my chair with a sharp sigh, running a hand through my hair. The scattered papers, the quiet hum of the office—it all felt like a testament to my failure. I’d been sitting here for hours, pretending to work, trying to keep my mind from going where it always went. But nothing worked. The numbers refused to make sense, and my thoughts refused to stay in line. This wasn’t me. I was always in control. Always sharp. But lately, it felt like control had slipped through my fingers. Like the more I tried to hold onto it, the faster it unraveled. I hated the feeling. Hated that I couldn’t snap my fingers and make it all go away. I pushed back my ch
SARAH“Where did you find my bracelet?” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended, trembling with the anger that had been bubbling inside me all day. My gaze locked onto the bracelet on Isabella’s wrist—a charm bracelet I could never mistake. My bracelet. The one I had been searching for like a lunatic all morning, tearing through every corner of the house only to find it here, now, dangling mockingly from her wrist.Isabella’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile, as if my frustration amused her. “Sarah,” she said softly, in a tone so calm it only fueled my fury, “there’s no need to get so worked up. It’s just a bracelet.”“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I spat, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I shot to my feet. The sharp sound echoed in the room, but I didn’t care. My anger had its own momentum now, unstoppable. “Where the fuck did you find it? I’ve been looking for it all day, tearing this place apart, and now it’s just c