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
SARAHAs Martha and I stepped into the living room, the first thing I noticed was the man standing in the middle of the room. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and his face… his face was something out of a nightmare. His features were hard and twisted, his eyes dark and menacing. Everything about him screamed danger. I immediately wondered how the hell he had gotten inside. My mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. Who was this man, and why was he here?Before I could say anything, he spoke. His voice was low, rough, and full of disdain.“Well? You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me with my load?” He sneered at us, like we were nothing more than servants. “Stupid maids,” he muttered under his breath, making my blood boil.I took a breath, trying to remain calm. I wasn’t about to let some stranger waltz in here and bark orders at us, no matter how intimidating he looked. But my heart was pounding, and I could feel the tension in the air thickening with ever
SARAHI sat on the edge of the bed, still shaken by the confrontation with Marco’s uncle, Danzo. The image of his face, twisted with rage, was burned into my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled in my chest since that moment. Living with Marco was already difficult enough—his constant mood swings, the unpredictable tension between us. But now there was someone even more terrifying under the same roof. It was like the walls were closing in on me.I rubbed my arms, trying to calm myself. Danzo had this aura of violence about him, a darkness that seemed to follow wherever he went. The way he looked at me, like I was nothing, like I didn’t deserve to be in Marco’s home—it made my skin crawl. And then he’d tried to strike me. My heart raced just thinking about it. What could have happened if Marco hadn’t walked in at that exact moment? I didn’t even want to imagine it.I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I leaned back against the bed frame. All I could do was pr
MARCOI sat behind my desk, staring at the stack of papers in front of me but not really seeing them. My mind was elsewhere, on the one thing I couldn’t ignore—Danzo. The fact that he had returned to the family house was eating at me. He wasn’t here for a friendly reunion. He never was. Danzo was always about power, control, and bloodshed. And now, after years of being gone, he thought he could waltz back in like nothing had happened?I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the rage bubbling under the surface. I wanted to confront him, throw him out of here before he got the chance to dig his claws into anything. But Tony had a point. If we kicked him out now, it would cause a stir, maybe even spark something we weren’t ready for. So I had to bide my time, play it smart.But every fiber in me wanted to handle this differently. I wanted him gone.A soft knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. It was Carlos, my father’s closest advisor. He slipped into the room, his expression cal
Danzo sat in the leather chair of the dimly lit study, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It felt good to be back in this house, this place he once ruled with an iron fist. It had been years since he’d been exiled, sent away because of his “methods”—methods that, as far as he was concerned, had kept the family intact and powerful. But now, with Marco in charge, things were different. The family had weakened, fractured under Marco’s so-called leadership. Danzo could see it, and he knew others could too. And that’s why he was back.The pretense of his visit had been simple enough: concern for Marco’s safety, for the stability of the family. But that was just the surface. Beneath it, Danzo was already calculating, already watching for the cracks he could exploit. And there were plenty of them.He picked up the phone on the desk, dialing a number he knew by heart. It rang once, twice, before the familiar voice on the other end answered.“Danzo,” Marcel greeted him, his tone sharp, busines
SARAHThe tension in the house had been building for days. I could feel it in the way everyone moved, the way conversations would abruptly stop whenever I walked into a room. It wasn’t just Marco who seemed on edge—Tony, Carlos, even some of the household staff were acting strange. There was something going on, and it had everything to do with Danzo’s sudden presence in the house.I didn’t trust him. How could I? The whispers about his violent past, the stories of how he used to run the family with an iron fist, made me wary. I wasn’t blind to the fact that people like him didn’t just change. But I also didn’t know enough to piece together what was really happening. All I had were the fragments of overheard conversations and the weight of the unease that seemed to hang over everyone like a dark cloud.Tony, especially, had been distant. Normally, we’d exchange friendly nods, or he’d at least acknowledge me with a smile when we crossed paths. But now, he barely even looked at me. And w
SARAHSteam still curled from my hair as I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in my towel. The cool air hit my skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the shower, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I was about to rummage through my drawer when the door creaked open, making me jump.Marco stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised like he had every right to be there. I froze for a second, blinking in disbelief.“Excuse me?” I finally blurted out, clutching the towel tighter around me. “Ever heard of knocking?”A slow grin spread across his face, the kind that always managed to make my heart do a weird little flip despite myself. “I knock sometimes,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. “But I miss my wife, and I figured… why wait?”I stared at him, trying to keep my expression serious, though the corners of my mouth were already betraying me. “You miss me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. “Since when did we get so casual with each
SARAHThe moment Marco left the room, his words lingered in my mind like a weight I couldn’t shake off. “Stay out of sight. Don’t ask questions.” He didn’t say it in a harsh tone, but it was enough to leave me feeling uneasy. I wasn’t sure what this get-together was supposed to be about, but from the way he spoke, it was clear he didn’t want me anywhere near it. He always had this way of keeping me in the dark when it came to certain things, as if it was for my own good. But now, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was something else.Was he trying to protect me? Or was he… embarrassed of me?That thought made my chest tighten, and I hated that it even crossed my mind. I tried not to think of Marco that way. He wasn’t the type to care about appearances, at least not with me. But there was something about the way he said it, like he didn’t want anyone to know I was here. Like it was better for everyone if I just disappeared for the night.I sighed and sank back onto the bed, pulling my
ISABELLAThe morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my private suite, casting golden light over the silk sheets of my king-sized bed. I stretched lazily, savoring the coolness of the fabric against my skin before reaching for the remote on my nightstand. With a press of a button, soft classical music filled the room, the kind that played in the background of the world’s most expensive penthouses. The kind that reminded me of power. Of control. Of exactly who I was.I slid out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush white carpet as I made my way toward the bathroom. Marble countertops, a freestanding tub, gold fixtures—everything hand-selected, everything perfect. I twisted the faucet, letting warm water spill into the sink before splashing my face gently. A morning cleanse, followed by an ice-cold jade roller against my skin. Every inch of my routine was precise, curated.Next came the serum. The kind infused with gold flecks, a favorite of European royalty.
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