MARCOI sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the club, the thumping bass running through my body. The girl had left a few minutes ago, and I had time to think. My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She had been a distraction, something to calmly take my mind off things. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn't get into it.I took a sip of my drink, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat. Since when have I become this sensitive? The life I lead was dangerous, and any moment of weakness could be my downfall. I couldn’t afford distractions, especially ones that made me question my decisions.I glanced around the club, watching people lose themselves in the music, the alcohol, the fleeting moments of pleasure. Was I any different? No. I couldn’t let myself be.I stood up, my mind firming with resolve. It was time to go. I had indulged enough nonsense for one night. I needed to get back to reality, back to the life I had built with blood and sweat.As I made my way through the line of peopl
SARAHWalking to Marco’s study, my mind kept drifting back to Marcel’s phone call. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Marcel’s concern and kindness were like a distant dream compared to the harsh reality I lived in. What was I thinking, even considering talking to him again? Marco had me under constant surveillance, and any hint of disobedience could spell disaster.I wondered if Marco knew about the call. Had he overheard? Was that why he summoned me? My heart pounded with each step, anxiety gnawing at me. I barely noticed my surroundings until I found myself standing in front of Marco’s office door. With a deep breath, I steeled myself and walked in.Marco was sitting in his chair, swinging it slightly as he twirled a fancy pen in his fingers. He ignored my presence at first, his gaze fixed on the pen. His nonchalance made my stomach churn with unease. I scoffed, trying to mask my fear. “You called for me?” I said, my voice more defiant than I felt.Marco smirked, finally looking
SARAHIt’s been two days since Marco set out his rules for me, and they’ve made me utterly miserable. I couldn’t forget the way he forced me into agreeing to his terms, the satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched me crumble, helpless and with no choice but to sign it.I hated him with every fiber of my being. Who does he think he is? I thought, my rage steaming beneath the surface. Every time I pictured his smug face, my blood boiled. The audacity of that man! To think he could control every aspect of my life like I was his puppet. I paced around my room, the walls closing in on me, suffocating me with the weight of his oppressive rules.Curfews, restricted areas, dress codes, behavioral expectations—every detail annoyingly planned to strip away my freedom. I sneered at the silliness of it all, mocking the rules in my mind. Morning curfews? Like I was a child who needed to be told when to wake up. Restricted areas? Did he think I would stumble upon some dark secret that would
SARAHI stood there, stunned by the sight of the baby clothes and toys scattered around the room. It was shocking. Why would Marco have a room like this? The thought of him being connected to something so innocent and tender didn’t make any sense. My curiosity, mixed with a growing sense of fear, urged me to explore further.I tiptoed further into the room, my heart pounding. Suddenly, I stepped on a toy. It squeaked loudly, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I quickly realized it was just a toy and exhaled in relief. But the noise had unnerved me, and my fear increased.Despite my growing anxiety, I approached a shelf that caught my eye. Among the dusty books and knick-knacks, there was a diary. The name “Noe-” was scribbled at the bottom. My hands trembled as I reached for it, eager to uncover whatever secrets it held. I started to flip it open.Just then, a voice cut through the silence, freezing me in my tracks. “What are you doing here?” Marco’s voice was cold and menacing, and
SARAHI woke up from a nap, my head pounding and my body aching. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. The room was dark, and it took me a few moments to reorient myself. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already evening. The realization hit me hard; it had been a full day since Marco had locked me up in that small, suffocating room.I had spent most of the day holed up in my room, refusing to talk to anyone, including the maids. The memory of Marco’s cruel smirk as he threw me into the basement replayed in my mind, fueling my hatred for him and his absurd rules.Who does he think he is? I thought bitterly. Treating me like some kind of possession, dictating every aspect of my life. I despised the way he seemed to enjoy punishing me, the satisfaction he got from my suffering. It made my skin crawl.I stared at the ceiling, trying to push the memories away, but they kept flooding back. The feeling of being trapped, of having no control over my own life, was overwhelming. I h
SARAHI stared at the dress Marco had laid out for me. It was a slinky, revealing dress that screamed for attention. The shimmering fabric, cut low in the front and high on the thigh, made my skin crawl. I hated it. I hated everything it represented. It was just another way for Marco to control me, to humiliate me. My fists clenched at my sides as I tried to summon the strength to put it on.“It’s just for one night,” I muttered to myself, the words barely more than a whisper in the silent room. “You can do this.”I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Each inhale felt like I was dragging a boulder up a hill. My fingers trembled as I unzipped the dress, the sound sharp in the quiet. With a sense of defeat, I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the dress. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. I looked at myself in the mirror, hating what I saw. My reflection seemed to mock me, the dress transforming me into something I didn’t
SARAHI stared at her, confused and taken aback. “What do you mean, replacement for a ghost?” I managed to ask, my voice shaky.She smirked, taking a step closer to me. “Oh, you don’t know, do you?” She relished the moment, enjoying my discomfort. “Noelle was Marco’s… special friend, let’s say. She had everything—beauty, class, and sophistication. Everything you lack.”My heart pounded in my chest. I felt a mix of confusion and anger boiling up inside me. “Noelle? “Special friend?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “What are you talking about?”She chuckled, a cold, mocking sound. “You really are clueless, aren’t you? Noelle was the one who mattered, the one who—”“Isabella!” Marco’s voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unyielding.She spun around, her demeanor changing in an instant. She threw herself at Marco, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Marco, darling, I was just having a little chat with your… new addition,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.Marco bar
The party dragged on, and I did my best to stay out of trouble. I found a quiet corner, keeping my head down and my eyes on the floor, making sure not to look in Daniel’s direction. I had already caused enough problems for myself tonight. The last thing I needed was Marco’s wrath extending to someone else. I stole a glance at Marco, but quickly looked away. His earlier threat of a new punishment played over and over in my head, an annoying thorn looming over my thoughts. What evil ideas does he have waiting for me this time? The very thought made my stomach churn, my mood souring with each passing minute that passed.Marcos people moved around me, mingling and laughing, their voices blending into a distant hum. It felt like I was in a bubble, separate from it all, the noise muffled by the weight of the anxiety I felt. I tried to focus on my tasks, refilling drinks and picking up empty glasses, anything to keep myself busy and out of Marcos sight. My hands worked fast, the routine mot
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
ISABELLAI needed to see Sarah. Needed to look into her eyes and knock that calm out of her face. I was sick of hearing the guards say she wasn’t making trouble. That she wasn’t even flinching. That she just sat there like she was above all of this.Like this place wasn’t real to her.I walked down to the basement. Two guards at her door stood straight when I showed up. One of them moved to unlock it.“Open it,” I said. My voice didn’t shake.The door creaked and I stepped inside.She was sitting by the window. Again. Her back to the door. Same white T-shirt. Same silent attitude. Like she didn’t even hear me come in.That alone made my jaw clench.I shut the door myself and crossed the room, slow. Waiting for her to move. Say something. Look at me.She didn’t.“You’re quiet,” I said.No answer.“Still dreaming, huh? You think he’s coming for you?”Nothing. She didn’t even turn her head.I walked right behind her chair.“He doesn’t even still know where you are,” I said. “And if he di
MARCOPetrov walked in without knocking. He didn’t have to. The door was open, and when things are heavy like this, you don’t waste time with manners. He stepped into the office and came to a stop near the board behind me. Eyes sharp. Face serious.I didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just stared at the photos, the pins, the lines that connected nothing but dead ends.Then I turned to him. “Denis.”Petrov looked at the picture I was pointing to. “Marcel’s logistics guy?”I nodded. “Yeah. One of our guys spotted him earlier today. Said he was moving different. Not his usual routes. First stop was a fuel depot. He lingered, made a few calls, then drove across town to a shut-down warehouse. Didn’t go in, just parked across from it, like he was checking something. Then he drove to the pier. Got a coffee. Sat there for almost forty minutes. Staring at the water.”Petrov didn’t speak right away. He just stared at Denis’s face like he was reading a puzzle out of it.“That sound like erra
MARCOI stood in front of the board again. Maps. Pins. Strings. Scribbled notes. All of it looking back at me like it had answers. But it didn’t. Not yet.The Bronx setup still replayed in my head. That moment when I saw her. The fake her. How sure I was. The way her hair smelled. Her trembling hands. For a second, I let myself believe it was Sarah. I let my guard down. I walked right into Marcel’s damn show. And he played me like a fool.I stepped closer to the board, staring at a red pin that marked another location upstate. The lead had was still weak, a whisper from a runner who barely made it out alive. But I kept it. I kept every maybe. Because right now, a maybe was all I had.I dragged my fingers through my hair, jaw tight. Every goddamn angle I took just looped me back here. To this board. This silence. And her still missing.“Where the fuck are you, Sarah?” I muttered.The room was dim. Just the lamp by the desk on. Everyone in the house knew to stay away when that light was