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
SARAHWhen I opened the door, a maid stood in front of me. She wasn’t one of the regulars I had gotten used to seeing around here. This one looked unfamiliar—too unfamiliar for my comfort. Her eyes darted around nervously, and she didn’t meet my gaze directly.“Mr. Marco is at the party,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “and he’s requesting your attendance.”I blinked, stunned. Had I heard that right? Marco had been clear—so clear that his words echoed in my mind. “Stay put. Don’t leave your room”. The message had been firm, almost like a command. And now, this maid was here telling me the exact opposite? Something didn’t add up. I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to gauge if she was joking, but she looked dead serious.“Wait… What?” I said, my tone laced with confusion. “Marco asked for me? You’re sure?”“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Marco requested you,” she repeated, as if I hadn’t heard her the first time. “And… I think he’s getting tired of waiting.”Her words lingered, unsettling me. I bit
SARAHI stood there, staring at Isabella, feeling my pulse race with irritation. Of all the people I didn’t want to deal with tonight, she was at the top of the list. Her smug expression made my skin crawl, and I knew she was hoping to get a rise out of me. But not tonight. I wasn’t about to let her win.“How did you manage to beg your way into another one of Marco’s parties?” I shot back, keeping my voice steady, trying to sound as bored as possible. “You’d think after the last time you’d be done embarrassing yourself. But I guess that’s your thing now, huh?”Isabella’s smile faltered for a split second, and I saw the flash of anger in her eyes. It was quick, but it was there. She wasn’t expecting me to push back like that. I felt a flicker of satisfaction. Good. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.“I don’t beg, sweetie,” Isabella said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Marco and I… we have history. I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”I crossed my arms, ref
SARAHIsabella’s voice cut through the air like a siren, shrill and demanding attention. I had tried to ignore her, hoping that if I kept my distance, she would just burn herself out and leave. But it was becoming impossible. The more she yelled, the more people began to stare. Eyes started to turn, and I could feel the weight of them falling on me. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I tried to block her out.“Where is it?” she screamed again, her voice rising to a near hysterical pitch. “I know I had it with me! Someone must’ve stolen it!”I glanced over my shoulder, watching as Isabella frantically searched through her bag again, her fingers shaking. Her perfectly styled hair was now a mess as she pushed it out of her face, desperation written all over her. It was almost… entertaining. I fought back the urge to smirk.“You sure you didn’t leave it at home, Isabella?” I muttered under my breath, but it wasn’t low enough. Danzo must have caught it because he turned his head slightl
MARCOThe flashbang was still working its magic as I stumbled forward, my vision blurry and my ears ringing like an alarm clock from hell. But there was no time to wait for things to settle. The moment the light hit, I felt the chaos erupt behind me—grunts, shouts, the clatter of boots on the floor.Instinct kicked in. The first guy behind me was flailing around, clutching his face like someone had poured hot sauce directly into his eyes. I took the opportunity, jabbing my elbow into his ribs with enough force to knock the air out of him. He let out a strangled wheeze and crumpled like a cheap folding chair.Unfortunately, his buddy wasn’t as incapacitated. The second man had somehow managed to pull out his gun, though he was aiming like he’d never used his eyes a day in his life. The first shot rang out, going wide and hitting a piece of metal somewhere to my left.“Great aim, sharpshooter,” I muttered, yanking the first guy’s body up as a human shield. The next shot hit him square i
MARCOI stared at the scene before me, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets. Tony lay crumpled on the floor, motionless, and Petrov wasn’t faring any better. My eyes darted back to Danzo, standing tall and smug, his expression carved with triumph. His words echoed in my head, striking me like a hammer with every repetition: This is where your poor planning has gotten you.Poor planning.Was that really it? Was it my fault that Tony and Petrov had been brought to this state? That Sarah was here, caught in Danzo’s grasp, her wide, fearful eyes pleading silently for a rescue I wasn’t sure I could give?You should’ve seen this coming, Marco, I thought bitterly.Danzo had been working against me from the shadows, a viper I had failed to notice until it was too late. But was it just him? Had I been so blind, so arrogant, to think that I had anticipated everything? My chest tightened as my mind spiraled further.Tony’s bloodied face flashed in my mind, followed by Petrov’s ragged brea
MARCO“Tony!” I choked out, the word barely escaping my lips as I turned toward the source.He was on the ground, his body crumpled awkwardly, blood pouring from his side. The crimson stain spread across the floor, pooling beneath him like some sick painting. My heart stopped as I stared at the scene, every ounce of air in my lungs evaporating.“No… no, no, no,” I stammered, stepping back instinctively, my boot catching in the slick blood pooling around him. I staggered, almost falling, my mind spinning.“Tony!” I called again, my voice cracking as if saying his name louder would wake him, make him look at me, make him respond. But he didn’t. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his eyes fluttering as if he was fighting to stay conscious.Danzo’s laugh broke through the chaos—a guttural, maniacal cackle that made my blood boil.“Ah, the mighty Marco. Look at you now,” he sneered. His voice was sharp, cutting through my panic like a razor. “I told you, didn’t I? You thin
MARCOThe air in the room crackled with tension as I leveled the gun at Danzo, my finger firm against the trigger. He took a step back, his eyes darting between me and the scattered bodies of his men. For a second, I thought I saw fear, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by that damn smirk he always wore, like he still had the upper hand.“It’s over for you, Danzo,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through me. “You might want to think twice before doing anything stupid.”He scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. His hand twitched near his side, hovering too close to the gun strapped there.“I mean it!” I barked, raising my voice. “You even so much as look at that gun, and you’ll die here, right now. No last words. No bargaining. Just done.”Danzo froze for a heartbeat, his hand still dangerously close to his weapon. “You don’t have it in you, Marco,” he sneered. “You think you’re the tough one, don’t you? You think you’re the hero in all of this?”“Shut up.” My
MARCOThe sound of gunfire outside was getting closer, louder. Each shot echoed like a drumbeat of inevitability, and I could see the panic setting in on Danzo’s face. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for an escape that wasn’t there.“You hear that, Danzo?” I said, leaning back in my chair. My wrists were still tied, but my voice was steady. “That’s the sound of your grand plan crumbling. Everything you set up here? It’s falling apart. And you’re dying here today.”Danzo’s head snapped toward me, his jaw tightening. For a second, he looked like he was going to lunge at me, but he held back. Instead, he pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt, his fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white.“Status!” he barked into the device, pacing in tight circles like a cornered animal. “What’s going on out there?”There was a pause on the other end, filled with static and the faint sound of chaos—shouting, gunfire, something heavy crashing to the ground. Finally, a vo
MARCO The ropes around my wrists burned as I strained against them, my jaw tight enough to crack a tooth. Danzo paced back and forth like a predator toying with its prey, his smirk wide and arrogant. His voice dripped with satisfaction, every word landing like a calculated blow. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he said, pausing to glance at me. “All this… it’s personal, Marco. You made it personal the moment you threw me to the wolves.” I stared him down, refusing to let the venom in his words show any effect. “You think I’m afraid of you?” “Oh, I don’t need you to be afraid. Not yet, anyway,” he said, laughing softly. “But you should be. You always underestimated me, Marco. Always thought I’d stay in your shadow, didn’t you?” I said nothing, focusing instead on Sarah, who sat just a few feet away, bound and trembling. Her eyes met mine, and the fear in them sliced through me like a blade. Danzo followed my gaze and chuckled darkly. “Ah, yes. The princess. Don’t worry, Ma
MARCOThe goons gathered my weapons with smug satisfaction, tossing them onto the floor like trophies. My knife. My Glock. The backup pistol. Each piece felt like a part of me being stripped away. I clenched my jaw as the masked man stooped to pick up my gun. He held it up to the dim light, turning it over in his hand like he’d just found buried treasure.“Nice piece,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he inspected the setup. “Who’s your plug, Marco? This stuff’s top-tier. Custom job? Or do you just know the right people?”I didn’t respond, glaring at him in silence. My hands itched to grab it back, to feel the weight of it in my palm, but my wrists were bound tightly behind my back.“Not much of a talker, are you?” he continued, pacing slowly in front of me. He raised the gun and mimed aiming it, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. This feels good. Might keep it. Hope you don’t mind.”I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I focused on what they hadn’t found—the tiny chip in my boo
MARCOThe silence inside the narrow hallway was almost unbearable. The dim, flickering light above me buzzed faintly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. My boots clicked softly on the metal floor as I moved further in, my breaths shallow and controlled. Every step felt heavier than the last, each one carrying me deeper into uncertainty.“Petrov,” I whispered, pressing a finger to the mic in my ear. “Petrov, can you hear me?”Nothing. Just static.I paused, my heart thudding harder as the realization hit me. The connection was dead. Whether it was deliberate or accidental, I was on my own now.“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the hallway for any sign of movement. My hand instinctively drifted toward the gun hidden beneath my jacket. I didn’t pull it out yet, but just feeling its presence steadied me a little. Whatever was waiting for me here, I wasn’t about to face it unarmed.The hallway stretched further ahead, leading to an open door on the left. The sh
MARCOThe night air clung to me like a heavy cloak, thick with tension and the metallic scent of salt from the nearby docks. As I stepped out of the car, the first thing I did was adjust the mic in my ear. Petrov’s faint voice buzzed briefly in the connection, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. But still, the silence surrounding me felt absolute, broken only by the distant hum of machinery and the soft crunch of gravel under my boots.My hand hovered close to my side, grazing the cold steel of the gun tucked under my jacket. I didn’t draw it, not yet, but the feel of it was a small comfort. The shipyard was a maze of shadows and towering containers, each one a potential hiding place. My eyes darted left, then right, sweeping for movement. Nothing. Not yet.“Marco, can you hear me?” Petrov’s voice crackled in my ear, low but clear.I pressed the mic lightly. “Loud and clear.”“Good,” he replied. “We’ve got eyes on the perimeter. Cameras are feeding us everything in real t