SARAHI sat in the living room, the sound of the ticking clock filling the silence around me as I focused on the knitting needles in my hands. It had been weeks since Marco’s incident, weeks since I’d taken care of him when he was so weak and vulnerable, his defenses stripped away by pain and exhaustion. It had been a strange time, seeing him like that. A side of Marco I’d never seen before, and one I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.I sighed, the yarn slipping through my fingers as I thought about how different he was now. Back then, when he could barely stand, when he needed me for every little thing, he was softer. Almost… kind. And for a moment, I’d almost believed that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, hard man I’d known him to be.But now? Now he was back to being an asshole. The same arrogant, stubborn man who barked orders and expected everyone to fall in line. The same man who looked at me with that infuriating smirk, who uttered things like, “I love you,
SARAHI sat there, still clutching the phone, my mind reeling from the conversation I’d just had with my dad. His words echoed in my head, each one tugging at the strings of my heart, wrapping me in a blanket of guilt and sorrow. How had things gotten so bad for him? How had I let it get this far without knowing, without helping? The man who had always been my rock was now crumbling, and I felt powerless to do anything about it.I tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. I could see his face in my mind, the way it must have looked when he told me he was broke, sick, and barely surviving. It broke me, knowing that I hadn’t been there for him, that I hadn’t noticed how much he was struggling. He had always been so strong, so capable, and now… now he was asking me for help. I could still hear the pain in his voice, the desperation that he tried so hard to hide.My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, the pressure building
SARAHI sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady the anxious flutter in my chest. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one thing was clear—this was something I had to do. My father’s well-being was on the line, and I couldn’t afford to back down now. I had to ask Marco for the money, even though the mere thought of it made my stomach churn.“You can do this,” I whispered to myself, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s for Dad. You have to be strong.”I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand. My legs felt like lead as I walked over to the closet, grabbing a light jacket to throw over my shoulders. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror again—my face pale, eyes wide with nerves. I looked like I was about to face a firing squad.“Don’t be scared,” I murmured, trying to convince myself. “Marco’s not a monster. He’s… he’s just Marco. You’ve handled him before. You can do it again.”I wasn’t sure if I believed my own words, but I didn’t hav
SARAHAfter the exhausting day I’d had, I was ready to finally let my mind shut off. I slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, and let out a long, tired sigh. The events of the day replayed in my head—my failure to ask Marco for the money, overhearing that strange conversation about Uncle Danzo, the frustration and anxiety that clung to me like a second skin. I just wanted it all to go away, even if only for a few hours of sleep.Just as I was about to close my eyes, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The sudden sound made my heart skip a beat, and I quickly reached over to grab it, hoping it wasn’t some late-night emergency. When I saw the name on the screen, though, my heart sank.Dad.I stared at the phone, feeling a wave of guilt and dread wash over me. I knew why he was calling. I’d been putting this off for days now, trying to come up with a way to tell him I didn’t have the money yet. But now, there was no more avoiding it. I had to answer.Taking a deep breath, I s
SARAHI leaned against the wall just outside Marco’s room, trying to calm my racing heart. My legs felt like jelly, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I always mess things up like this? I had barely even said two words to him before I panicked and ran.Before I could turn and make a full retreat back to my room, I heard his voice call out.“You planning on staring from all the way over there?” Marco’s voice cut through the silence, snapping me out of my thoughts. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was an edge of amusement in it. I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his hand resting casually on the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on me.My face flushed red. I must’ve looked ridiculous, standing out here like some awkward schoolgirl. I swallowed, forcing myself to move. My feet felt heavy as I stepped inside his room, keeping my eyes averted. He was still shirtless, and I didn’t trust myself to look at him without turning into a blushing m
SARAHI blinked, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. Surely, I had misheard him. There was no way Marco was serious. “A… a what?” The words barely slipped out of my mouth, my voice shaky, unsure. It felt like I was caught in some kind of sick joke.Marco just stood there, his expression completely unbothered. That stupid grin still plastered on his face as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “You heard me, Sarah,” he said calmly, almost too casually. “I want a kid. Seems like a fair trade, don’t you think?”Fair trade? My mind was racing. My legs felt weak, and the walls of the room seemed to be closing in on me. What the actual fuck? What kind of twisted choices were these? This wasn’t real. He couldn’t be serious. This was just another one of his sick games.I swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic rising in my chest. “I know you’ve always had a thing for bad jokes, Marco,” I managed, forcing a nervous laugh, hoping—praying—that this w
SARAHI stared at him, my mind racing, trying to comprehend the situation. It felt like everything had shifted in a matter of seconds. Just moments ago, I’d been desperate, but now I felt cornered—trapped in a way I hadn’t expected. Marco wasn’t just dangling money over my head anymore; he was stripping me of my dignity, of any remaining sense of control I thought I had.I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “You’re sick, Marco.” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper, but there was a fierceness behind it that I couldn’t hold back.He tilted his head, amused. “Am I? Or am I just being practical? You want something from me, and I want something from you. It’s a fair trade.”“A fair trade?” I repeated, my anger rising with every breath. “You think I’m just going to sleep with you for money? You think that’s how this works?”“It’s not about what I think, Sarah,” he said smoothly, as if the idea of this transaction was something I should’ve already accepted. “It’s about what you need. You ca
SARAHIt had been two days since I turned down both of Marco’s ridiculous offers. Two days of waking up to the same empty feeling, knowing that I still didn’t have a way to help my dad. I couldn’t believe I was still here, stuck in the same situation, running in circles with no way out. Every time I thought about Marco, anger boiled inside me. But no matter how much I wanted to push him out of my mind, the problem still lingered.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone in my hand. The idea of calling Nicole had crossed my mind more than once. She had always been there for me when we were younger, always knew how to help. But things were different now. I hadn’t spoken to her in… what? Months? Maybe more. And now, out of the blue, I was supposed to call and ask her for a favor?I shook my head, tossing the phone onto the bed. That’s wrong. I couldn’t just show up in her life after all this time and expect her to help. It wasn’t fair. I sighed, rubbing my temples, trying to thi
MARCOSarah appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes scanning the room, and the moment she took in the sight before her, confusion flashed across her face. Then something else. Something unreadable. Her gaze drifted from the blood pooling on the floor to the doctor hunched over Aisha’s body, his hands moving fast, his jaw tight with focus. My men stood around, tense, waiting, their shoulders stiff with the weight of what had just gone down. The air was thick, the kind that pressed against your chest. But I barely noticed any of it.All I saw was Sarah.I moved toward the staircase, instinct taking over, ready to guide her down, but before I could reach for her, she stopped me with a small shake of her head.“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I can walk.”I hesitated for half a second before stepping back, watching her carefully as she descended. Her hands gripped the railing a little tighter than usual, and I could see the way her breath hitched as she got a closer look at the scene. The b
MARCOBlood was everywhere. Thick, dark, warm against my skin. It soaked through my fingers, through Aisha’s torn clothes, pooling on the leather seat beneath her. The metallic stench filled the SUV, mixing with the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt rubber. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, eyelids fluttering, skin sickly pale.“Stay awake,” I muttered, pressing my hand harder against the wound. “Don’t fucking pass out.”Her head lolled slightly, lips parting. “Can’t…”“You can,” I snapped. “You don’t get to bleed out here.”The Rossis were still on us, their engines snarling, the air filled with the rapid cracks of gunfire. Another window shattered. Glass sprayed across my arm, cutting into my skin, but I didn’t flinch. My focus was locked on Aisha and the goddamn blood leaking out of her too fast.Petrov yanked the wheel hard to the left, barely dodging a parked car. The SUV fishtailed, tires screeching, but he kept control, pushing forward.Tony was still hanging out the window, c
MARCOBang!Blood hit my face, warm and thick. The sound of Anton’s body slamming against the floor echoed in the room, his lifeless eyes still open, staring up at nothing. His mouth, which had been running nonstop just seconds ago, was frozen in shock. The pool of blood beneath him spread fast, the deep red spilling across the cracked tiles. The smell—sharp, metallic—filled the air, mixing with the lingering scent of gunpowder.I didn’t move. My chest was still tight, my breath locked in my throat. That bullet should’ve been for me.Tony stepped in, gun still raised, his eyes sweeping the room. He took one glance at Anton’s corpse, then at me. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Damn. Came in just in time, huh?”I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension still coiled in my muscles. My hand flexed involuntarily, the ghost of a gun still lingering in my grip. “Yeah… that was too fucking close.”Tony chuckled, sliding his gun back into its holster. “Close? Marco, you were done for.”I ran a hand ov
MARCOThe cold steel at the back of my head sent a sharp wave of irritation down my spine. Not fear. Irritation. Because I had checked. I had swept this place. I had been so sure I was alone in this room with Aisha. So where the fuck did this guy come from? How hadn’t I heard him move? No footsteps, no breath, no shift in the air. Nothing.I was still caught in that thought when the gun pressed harder against my skull.“What, you deaf?” The voice was deep, smooth, almost amused. “I said drop the gun.”Slow. Careful. I lowered my arm, fingers unwrapping from my weapon before I let it hit the ground. The second it did, the guy let out a short laugh.“That’s good,” he said, then I heard the scrape of his boot as he kicked my gun far out of reach.I clenched my jaw, but I didn’t move. My mind was already working, already cycling through every option, every opening, every mistake I had made to end up in this position.The man behind me let out another small chuckle, stepping closer.“Marco
MARCOThe second the lights cut out, my hand went straight for the knife. My fingers curled around the handle tight, the weight fitting into my palm like it was born there. I didn’t reach for the gun. Not yet. Guns made noise. Guns were for men who didn’t know how to move. I wasn’t here to spray bullets aimlessly and paint the whole place in blood unless I really had to.I moved low, sticking close to the wall. My breath steady. My heartbeat calm. The whole building was stirring into chaos — voices barking out orders, footsteps stomping around blindly in the dark. They didn’t know what hit them yet. The picture in my head stayed sharp. Every guard I clocked when I walked in. Every position. Every lazy hand resting too far from a trigger. I carried that image with me now as I crept through the shadows.The first two were exactly where I left them. By the columns. Flashlights flicking left and right, trying to cut through the darkness. Russian accents. I could hear the nervous edge in
ISABELLAThe room was drowning in silence — the kind that made your own thoughts feel louder than they should. The only sound cutting through was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.I paced from one end of the room to the other, heels clicking against the marble floor. My cigarette had burned out in the ashtray a long time ago, smoke still faintly curling from the filter. I hadn’t even realized I’d left it there.My eyes kept flicking to the phone on the table — screen black, still no calls. Every second that passed without a word from La Paloma only twisted the knife deeper in my chest.They should’ve called by now.I could feel it… that tight pull in my stomach. Something was happening.Marco was out there.Looking for her.I poured myself a glass of wine, but it barely made it halfway to my lips before I set it back down. My fingers tapped restlessly against the glass, my mind circling the same dark corner over and over again.If Marco found Aisha… if he got to her before w
MARCOThe city lights blurred through the tinted windows as we cruised down the highway. The engine hummed low, steady. Nobody was talking much, just the faint sound of the radio playing some old blues song under the noise of the tires slicing through wet road.I sat in the backseat, window cracked just enough to let the night air slip in. The blunt burned slow between my fingers — smoke curling up against the roof. I took a long drag, letting the smoke sit heavy in my chest before passing it forward.“Here… calm your nerves.”Tony snorted from the passenger seat, taking it without missing a beat.“Come on, Marco… what the fuck you think this is? First rodeo?” He puffed out a cloud, passing it straight to Petrov in the driver’s seat.Petrov grabbed it with a grin, eyes fixed on the road.“The man’s treating us like fresh meat.” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “I ain’t been nervous since Danzo’s funeral.”I couldn’t help the faint s
MARCOI sat back in my office, the glass swirling slow in my hand. The whiskey tasted bitter tonight — or maybe it was just me. The window stretched wide in front of me, showing the whole city flickering under the night. New York always looked peaceful from up here… but I knew better.The whole place was a ticking bomb.I watched the headlights crawling along the streets, the faint horns echoing through the night. Somewhere down there… someone was dying. Someone was making money. Someone was getting betrayed.This city doesn’t sleep.I let out a slow breath, tapping my finger against the rim of the glass. My chest felt heavier with every second ticking by. Tonight was going to change everything — one way or the other.I wasn’t scared.I’ve been in worse situations. Buried men with my own hands. Watched bodies bleed out inches away from me. I’ve done shit that still wakes me up at night.But tonight… it was different.Aisha.Her name had been drilling through my skull ever since Tony m
MARCONight had swallowed the city whole. The air hung thick, heavy with something I hadn’t felt in a long time. That familiar tension before a job. The kind that made your blood move slower… made every second feel like it was stretching out.I stood in the armory, loading rounds into a Glock magazine, one click at a time. Tony was by the table, checking the sights on an SMG. Petrov leaned against the wall, spinning a knife between his fingers like he was playing with a toothpick.Petrov smirked.“Been a while since we went on a night like this.” He flipped the knife once, catching it clean. “Not since we took out Danzo.”I glanced up at him, the name stirring up old memories I buried deep. “Danzo…”I sighed, sliding the mag into the Glock with a cold snap.“Yeah… I wish the peace had lasted.”Tony looked up from the SMG, his face tired.“We all do.”The room fell quiet for a second. None of us were built for peace, but we learned how to live in it. Now… that was all gone.Petrov brok