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THE SET UP
Last Updated:
2024-09-19 22:16:26
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The ride back to the safehouse was thick with tension. Russo’s jaw remained clenched, his eyes fixed on the road, barely blinking. I sat beside him, still trying to steady my breathing after the chaos at the warehouse. We had come so close, and yet Marco had slipped away again, vanishing into the shadows like smoke. Viktor, in the seat behind us, was already on the phone, making calls and arranging for the cleanup. His voice was cold and efficient, but I could tell he was frustrated too. This was a missed opportunity, and we all knew it. I glanced over at Russo, hoping to say something, anything, that could ease the storm I saw brewing inside him, but the words wouldn’t come. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as if he was holding back an eruption of rage. “We’ll get him next time,” I said softly, trying to fill the silence. Russo’s eyes flicked toward me briefly before he shook his head. “There shouldn’t have been a ‘next time.’ He should’ve been dead tonight.” His vo
Last Updated : 2024-09-20The Mafia's Pawn THE BAIT
The plan was simple on paper, but execution was everything. Viktor had laid out every possible detail, and Russo made sure the men were positioned perfectly. This wasn’t just a hunt anymore; it was a game of survival for Russo and a chance to get the answers he had been seeking for years. We were back at another club, the kind of place Marco would frequent, underground, dark, filled with people who didn’t ask questions. I was the bait, just like last time, but this time the stakes were even higher. Russo had been clear Marco was coming in with more caution now, and he wouldn’t fall for the same setup twice. I wore something more understated this time a dark dress that clung to my figure just enough to catch his attention without being obvious. My hair was loose, and I kept my makeup simple, nothing too flashy. I was supposed to blend in with the crowd, a face he’d recognize but not be overly suspicious of. Russo stood off to the side, his eyes never leaving me. He wasn’t dressed f
Last Updated : 2024-09-20The Mafia's Pawn SHADOWS AND SPARKS
The tension from the night still hung in the air as Russo and I walked back to the car. Marco was in custody, but the adrenaline hadn’t faded, and I could feel the intensity between us simmering just below the surface. Russo was quieter than usual, his thoughts likely spinning with everything that had just gone down. I glanced at him as we reached the car. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed straight ahead, but his hand hovered near my back, guiding me to the passenger seat with a possessive protectiveness that wasn’t lost on me. There was an unspoken understanding between us now, something deeper than just the plan or the danger we’d faced. As we drove back to the safehouse, the silence was comfortable but charged with something unsaid. Every so often, I’d catch Russo glancing at me, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, like he was holding back from saying what was on his mind. I wasn’t sure where things stood between us anymore. What had started as a forced
Last Updated : 2024-09-22The Mafia's Pawn THE INVITATION
The following days were tense. Marco was being held in the underground room, and Russo and Viktor were constantly with him, pushing him for answers. Each night, Russo returned to our room with that same intensity, a quiet storm brewing inside him, and I was there, always waiting, always ready to support him. But the emotional weight of what we were doing and what we had become was something I hadn’t fully processed yet. The nights Russo spent with me were filled with whispered confessions and stolen moments of passion, but by day, the mafia world consumed us. We never talked about what was happening between us in the open, but there was no denying it now. The connection we had was no longer just physical; it was emotional, it was trust. And though Russo never said it outright, I could feel that he needed me, that I had become more than just a pawn in his plan for revenge. One afternoon, as I was sitting in the living room of the safehouse, a knock came at the door. I opened it caut
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The day after Russo’s confrontation with Marco, things between us seemed to settle into a strange rhythm. We’d been dancing around our feelings, and though there were sparks between us, the looming threat of Marco and the unanswered questions about Russo’s parents kept us from moving forward too quickly. But the tension didn’t end there. There was something else simmering beneath the surface, something that Russo had been keeping from me. I didn’t push him. I knew better than to pry when he wasn’t ready to share, but the silence between us was heavy, and I could sense that he was holding back. It wasn’t until I decided to attend Ella’s wedding that everything finally came to light. I was sitting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and trying to mentally prepare myself for what the wedding would mean. Seeing Aunt Lydia, knowing she had been behind so much of the pain I had endured, would be difficult enough. But the thought of seeing Ella, standing there in her white dress,
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Cleo's POV He smirked slightly. “Wouldn’t be the first time neither will it be the last.”That caught me off guard. A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it, and Russo’s expression softened, like he had been waiting for that exact moment.He reached for my hand again, and this time, I let him. “Forgive me?” he murmured.I exhaled, shaking my head at him. “I hate you, Russo.”He grinned. “Is that a yes?”I rolled my eyes. “…Yes, you idiot.”He let out a relieved chuckle before getting up and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, princess.”I sighed dramatically. “You owe me dessert for this.”He smirked. “Done.”And just like that, the tension eased again.Halfway through our meal, a notification dropped on his phone and he excused himself, and I watched him disappear inside the restaurant. I frowned slightly but didn’t overthink it, instead focusing on the city lights twinkling below.A few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching.I turned—and my breath caught.Russo
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Cleo's POV The tension that had hung between us for weeks had eased.I wasn’t over everything that had happened, but I couldn’t deny how good it felt to just be here, to have his full attention, to feel like I mattered to him again.Soon, the waiter returned with our meals, placing our plates down with a flourish. The food smelled divine, the steam curling into the night air.Russo glanced at my plate, his lips twitching. “You and pasta.”I shot him a look. “Pasta is elite. You wouldn’t understand.”He chuckled. “You do know there’s a whole steakhouse on the other side of this rooftop, right?”“And yet,” I said, twirling my fork into the creamy truffle pasta, “I have exactly what I want.”Russo shook his head fondly before slicing into his steak.For a while, we ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds between us being the clinking of silverware and the faint music playing in the background. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I took my first bite, the rich, buttery flavors m
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Cleo's POV After leaving the Rage House, Russo drove us to an arcade—one of those massive, neon-lit places filled with flashing lights, loud laughter, and the sounds of games being played.I wasn’t expecting it, but the moment we stepped inside, nostalgia hit me.“You remembered,” I said, glancing at him.His lips quirked up. “How could I forget? You used to drag me here all the time.”A small smile tugged at my lips. I did, back when I couldn't seem to be at peace with myself after locking Aunt Lydia and Ella up. This was before Russo travelled here, before he became so entangled with Isabelle that he was ready to fight for her at anytime. How did everything get so messy?Russo grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the basketball hoops, jerking me out of my lost state. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve still got your magic.”I scoffed. “Please. I always beat you at this, you know that.”“That was long ago,” he challenged, grabbing a ball. “Show me what you’ve got, princess.”That was al
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Cleo's POV I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “That’s all you have to say?”He stepped closer, reaching out to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger. “You look stunning, Cleo. But then again… when do you not?”I scoffed, pushing past him. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”He chuckled, following me down the stairs. “Oh, I think it’s working just fine.”I shook my head, grabbing my purse. But before I could reach the door, Russo grabbed my hand, spinning me towards him.His fingers brushed against my jaw. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”My cheeks warmed, but I masked it with a scoff. “Are we leaving or what?”He grinned, stepping aside. “After you, Princess.”I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips as I playfully ran out to the car.The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that lingered between two people who had been through too much in too little time.Russo’s hand rested on my thigh as he drove, his
The Mafia's Pawn DAMN!
The suitcase felt heavier than it should have. Or maybe it was just me, feeling the weight of everything I was about to leave behind.Russo’s grip on my wrist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to stop me in my tracks.I squeezed my eyes shut. “Russo—““I know I messed up,” he said quickly, his hold tightening. “I was blind, selfish, an idiot. I should have stood up for you. I should have never—” His voice broke slightly, and I felt his head drop against my shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you, Cleo. I can’t afford to.”I swallowed hard, hating how much my heart ached at his words. “Let me go, Russo.” I managed to say, avoiding his gaze.But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped in front of me, his expression unreadable. “I messed up,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have let Isabelle treat you that way. I know I don’t deserve to ask you for anything right now, but… please. Don’t leave like this.”I closed my eyes for a brief second
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Cleo's POV The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of fabric as I packed. Each fold, each carefully placed item, felt like a silent goodbye—a farewell to the girl who had spent far too long trying to be enough for someone who never saw her worth. I zipped up my suitcase and grabbed my bag, stuffing it with everything else I owned. I didn’t care about the things I was leaving behind, none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was getting away from here, from them, from the toxic mess that my life had become. With my suitcase in hand, I walked out of the bedroom without a second glance. I wasn’t crying, at least thought I would be. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. All I felt was exhaustion, a bone-deep fatigue that settled into my muscles as I dragged my bag behind me out of the room. I heard the front door open. A part of me expected it to be Russo, but when I didn’t hear his voice calling out for me, I knew it
The Mafia's Pawn IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ISABELLE
Cleo's POV For a moment, everything stood still. The store, once filled with distant chatter and the faint hum of background music, had gone eerily silent. All eyes were on us—on me—as Isabelle lay on the floor, clutching her reddened neck like she had just been gravely wounded. Russo’s face was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders was undeniable. His gaze flickered between me and Isabelle, taking in the broken chain dangling from my fingers, the pendant lying at our feet, and the shallow mark on her skin. “What the hell, Cleo?” His voice was sharp, laced with disbelief. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of every emotion—anger, betrayal and exhaustion pressing down on my chest. “She took my necklace, Russo.” Russo ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like he was the one suffering. “God, Cleo, you didn’t have to kill her for it. It’s just a necklace!” His words hit like a slap. Just a necklace? Just like it was just a seat in the car earlier? Just
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Cleo's POV I pushed the cart forward, heading towards the clerk. “I’d like to see this one, please,” I told the sales clerk, pointing to the necklace in the glass. She nodded lightly, pulled it out and handed it to me. A bright smile played on my lips and I could already picture it around my neck, something small and beautiful that might remind me of who I used to be before everything became so complicated. I held the necklace between my fingers, tracing the delicate pendant as the soft store lights reflected off its polished surface. It was simple—nothing extravagant—but something about it made me feel… seen. As if, for the first time in a long while, I was looking at something meant for me, not dictated by anyone else’s needs or expectations. The sales clerk smiled. “It’s a beautiful choice. Would you like to try it on?” I turned back to the clerk and nodded. “Yes, please.” She unfastened the clasp and handed it to me. I lifted my hair and secured it around my neck, then
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Cleo's POV I took my time getting ready, still weighing my decision to go shopping with Russo. My emotions were a mess, equal parts anger, hurt, and reluctant hope. I glanced at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress. Whatever this day brought, I’d be ready for it. When I walked downstairs, Russo was by the door, his keys in hand. I could see Isabelle standing outside by the car, leaning against it as though she didn’t have a care in the world. My stomach churned at the sight of her. Russo turned when he heard me, his expression softening. “You ready?” “Let’s just get this over with,” I said, brushing past him and heading to the car. As I approached, Isabelle straightened, her gaze locking with mine. She gave me a tight, fake smile before opening the front passenger door and sliding in. I froze, my hand tightening on the strap of my purse. Russo reached the car a moment later, looking between me and Isabelle as if he sensed the storm brewing. “Isabelle,” I said, m
