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
SARAHI stared at the phone in my hand, my father’s name still flashing on the screen. My thumb hovered over the green button, but I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. What was I going to say to him this time? That I still hadn’t managed to help him? That everything I’d promised him was still out of reach? The lies, the false hope… it was all starting to weigh on me.With a heavy sigh, I decided I wasn’t going to pick up. Not right now, anyway. “I’ll call him back,” I muttered to myself, trying to ease the guilt in my chest. “It’s temporary. I’ll get back to him soon.”I tried to justify it in my head. I was tired of giving him empty promises when nothing was actually changing. Every conversation with him was a reminder of how helpless I really was, and I didn’t need that today. Not with everything else weighing me down. Not with Marco breathing down my neck.Shoving the phone into my pocket, I sighed again and pushed myself off the bed. I didn’t want to go. The last thing I wanted
SARAHI stood there, staring at Marco, unable to process what he had just said. My head was spinning, my heart pounding in my chest. Had he really paid off all my father’s debts? I felt like I was caught in a dream, or maybe a nightmare. This couldn’t be real.“Wait… did I hear that right?” I asked, my voice shaky. “You… you paid off all of it? All the bills?”Marco just stood there, leaning casually against his desk, a smug smile on his face like he was waiting for me to catch up. He didn’t say anything at first, just watching me with that glint in his eye, as if he was amused by my shock.I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “When? How? Why would you do that?”He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a slow, deliberate motion. The flicker of the lighter briefly illuminated his face, casting shadows across his features.After taking a long drag, he exhaled, smoke swirling around him, before finally respondin
SARAHMarco’s lips crashed against mine with an urgency that caught me completely off guard. For a moment, I froze, my mind racing to catch up with the sudden onslaught of emotions. His hands cupped my face, holding me steady as his kiss grew more intense. My heart pounded wildly, and I found myself responding, my body melting into his embrace.His kiss was insistent and demanding, as though he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. I could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pulled me closer, his breath mixing with the faint scent of cigarettes that clung to him. The intensity of the kiss made it hard to think clearly.I should have pulled away, should have stopped this, but every part of me was betraying that instinct. It felt as if all the tension and unspoken words between us were finally finding an outlet in this kiss. His hands roamed down my back, his fingers grazing the curve of my waist, sending shivers through me.I was bewildered by the whirlwind of emot
I woke up to a warm sensation, the heat of a body pressed up against mine. For a moment, I felt disoriented, unsure of where I was. My head was pounding, and I squinted against the sunlight filtering into the room. It wasn’t until I shifted slightly that I realized I wasn’t alone.Marco’s arm was draped over my waist, holding me close, his breath steady and calm against my neck. My heart rate spiked, and I quickly scanned the room, piecing together the unfamiliar surroundings. The luxurious dark wood furniture, the heavy curtains, the scent of him lingering in the air—it hit me all at once.I was in Marco’s bed.What the hell?My eyes widened as I jolted upright, trying to shake the fog out of my brain. The movement sent a sharp pain through my skull, and I winced, my hand shooting up to rub my temple. "Ouch..." I muttered, my head pounding as if it was punishing me for the shock.Just then, I felt Marco stir beside me. Before I could make any sort of escape, his arm tightened around
SARAHIt had been a few days since that night with Marco, and honestly, I still hadn’t figured out how I felt about it. Every time I thought about it, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach, and it didn’t help that I’d been doing everything in my power to avoid him since then. It wasn’t like me to act this way—shy, nervous, practically hiding—but here I was, avoiding eye contact, making excuses, and ducking into rooms whenever I thought he might be nearby.It wasn’t just the awkwardness that made me steer clear of him. It was the fact that, for once, I didn’t know where we stood. That night had shifted something, and I wasn’t sure I liked the way it made me feel. Vulnerable. Exposed. I didn’t do well with either of those things.I mean, what was I supposed to do? Walk up to him and casually say, “Hey, remember that time we slept together? Yeah, let’s just forget about it.” That wasn’t going to happen.I sighed as I paced the length of my room for what felt like the hundredth time t
MARCOAs we moved closer to the warehouse, the world around us shifted. No more breathing room. No more second chances. I lifted my hand, fingers moving in sharp signals the team knew by heart. Petrov and Gio broke off fast, slipping into the tree line to handle the chaos. Their job was simple: create enough noise, enough blood, to keep Marcel’s eyes off me. My job was simpler. Get to Sarah. Bring her home.I moved ahead, leading my half of the team. Tony and Denis stayed tight behind me, heading toward the wing where Denis swore they kept her. The woods around us swallowed the sound of our boots, every step careful, every move sharp. The cold night clung to my skin, biting a little, but I welcomed it. It kept me awake. It kept me locked in.Up ahead, a small light flickered behind a tree line. I crouched low, holding my fist up to stop the others. Two guards patrolled near the inner fence, walking lazy, rifles slung low, no care in their step.I looked at Tony and jerked my chin towa
MARCOThe safehouse stank of sweat and gun oil. It had been a day now. One long, heavy day. I stood over the table, arms braced against the wood, staring down at the maps, the grainy photos, the scribbled notes we had piled together. Every street, every guard rotation, every weak spot Marcel thought he hid. It was all laid out in front of me like a body waiting for burial.The guys were scattered around the room, geared up. Tony sat sharpening a knife that didn’t need sharpening. Gio leaned against the wall, checking his pistol again and again. Petrov stood by the window, looking out like he expected hell to pull up in a car. Denis was at the far end of the table, hands flat, answering the last of our questions like a man who knew his life depended on it. It did.“Alright,” I said, my voice steady even if everything inside me was screaming. “One more time.”I tapped the map with the tip of my finger. “We roll in here. Two SUVs. No fancy shit. We stay fast, clean. Denis says the east f
ISABELLAI sat near the window with a half-full glass of wine, legs crossed, posture easy. Outside, the yard stretched quiet under soft light, the fences glowing under the dim wash of security lamps. The wind barely moved. Even the trees felt too still. It looked like peace, but it wasn’t. It was something else. Something pretending to be calm.Behind me, Marcel was laughing, his voice bouncing off the walls like this place was some damn hotel and not the cage it really was. Two of his men stood with him, drinking, cracking jokes like they didn’t have a care in the world. That’s what bothered me. They weren’t tense like they used to be. There was no edge in the air. No clipped words or extra rounds being loaded. Just pride. Stupid, loud pride.Marcel turned a bit, speaking louder now, wanting me to hear. “You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He never does. “I think Marco’s done. Crawled into whatever hole he came out of, dragging his tail behind him. Wallowing in that
SARAHThe cold woke me before the pain did. My body was already curled tight, but it didn’t help. The chill still found its way into my bones, into my stomach, into everything. I tried to stretch, just a little, but my back screamed and my legs cramped. My head throbbed with that dull pressure that never really left. I didn’t even open my eyes right away. I just laid there, breathing through it, waiting for the nausea to pass.I was starving. And still, the idea of food made my stomach twist. It wasn’t just the baby. It was the food they brought. Cold, bland, rough like they’d scraped it off the bottom of a pan and tossed it at me out of pity. Or worse, duty. I’d thrown it up more than once. Now I just took small bites and held it down as long as I could. My throat stayed dry. My mouth too. I’d started cutting what little food I got into pieces, counting the bites like that somehow helped. It didn’t. But it gave me something to do, something to control.I turned onto my side slowly. T
MARCOThe city was already buzzing by the time I stepped into the club. Word had spread like it always did when there was fire involved. Loud. Messy. Unavoidable. The warehouse attack I sent Gio on didn’t just go up in smoke, it sent the exact message I wanted it to, just the one we wanted out there.I kept my head down as I moved past the crowd. Familiar faces, familiar noise. A few of my guys were already drinking like nothing happened, laughing like we hadn’t just made the loudest move in weeks. All part of the script. They were playing their roles. I was about to play mine.I slid into the usual booth in the back. Dark corner. Good view of the whole room. I threw my coat beside me and knocked on the table once. Bartender looked over, already moving.“Double,” I said when he got close, tapping the glass down like I needed it more than air. “And don’t stop unless I say.”Tony was leaning against the wall by the booth, arms crossed, eyes scanning the floor. He always looked like he w
MARCOThe room was quiet. Real quiet. The kind where you can hear someone blink. Denis sat across from me, hands on his knees, eyes low. Petrov leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Tony stood by the window, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping the frame like he couldn’t stand still.I didn’t say much. I just stared at Denis. Made him squirm a little. He knew what was expected.“You can start talking,” I finally said.His head jerked up like I pulled him out of a bad dream. He looked at each of us. Then down again.“Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll talk.”He took a breath. Then it all started pouring out.“Marcel’s base isn’t at the club. That’s just his face. The real spot’s a compound in the industrial zone, the one behind the fake textile plant. Everything happens there. The trucks, the drops, the meetings.”I didn’t move. I kept watching him. Trying to see if he was holding anything back.“There’s a basement setup. Clean. Sealed. That’s where he’s keeping her. Sara
MARCELThe city looked soft from up here. All that noise, all that movement, and still, it bowed. I stood at the window in my suite, cup in hand, nothing but silence around me. That was the kind of power I liked. Quiet. Steady. It meant everything was still running how I wanted it.The espresso was hot, bitter, smooth. Just how I liked it. The robe hung loose on my shoulders. I didn’t need armor in my own kingdom. Marco was definitely out there throwing tantrums, yelling into the wind, kicking at doors no one opened. He thought if he made enough noise, something would shake loose. But that’s all it was, noise. His people were scrambling. Mine were planted.I set the cup down as I went to freshen up. I had a meeting to attend. The new head of the Rossi family.. young, loud, trying to act like he had his brother's shoes on, but everyone in the room could see the fit was wrong. He needed to be reminded who still ran the rhythm of this city.I picked a black suit. Simple. Heavy fabric. N
MARCOI stared at the dartboard across the room. Three darts were stuck in it. One near the bullseye, two scattered like they were thrown without care. I hadn’t touched it in a week. Didn’t feel like playing games. Not until we had something real.The room was quiet, just the sound of the coffee pot clicking under the small warmer. I poured myself a cup, black, no sugar. I needed to stay sharp. Petrov said he had gotten Denis, I could feel it. Something about tonight told me this was it. This was the closest I had been to getting Sarah back.I cracked my knuckles and leaned on the edge of the table, still staring at that board. One dart for Denis. One for Marcel. One for Isabella. That last one would get replaced soon, maybe with a blade. I smiled at that thought.A knock came at the door. I didn’t even turn around.“Yeah?”It was one of the guys from the main floor. “Boss. Petrov’s back. He says he’s downstairs. Dungeon.”I took one more sip of coffee and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go s
PETROVThe engine was quiet, but I still kept my foot light on the brake. Sitting in an unmarked black car in the middle of a warehouse lot at night ain’t glamorous. It’s cold, it’s slow, and you’ve gotta know how to sit in silence without letting it eat you up.Gio sat beside me, chewing on a toothpick. He didn’t say much. That’s why I liked him. Good eyes, sharper hands. One of Marco’s quiet soldiers, but sharp enough to make noise when it counted.I flicked the ash of my cigarette out the half-cracked window. The smoke stayed low inside the car, curling slow, the way my thoughts moved when I was on a tail. We weren’t here to guess. We were here to read the pattern.“He’s in there,” I muttered. “Warehouse across the lot. Denis. Carrying a duffel. No escort.”Gio nodded once. Didn’t need to speak. He knew what that meant. For a guy like Denis, showing up solo? Out of place. Logistics men don’t walk around without backup unless they’re doing something they ain’t supposed to.“Somethin