MARCELI kicked back in my chair, boots up on the desk, glass of whiskey hanging loose in my hand. The oak groaned under me, but I didn’t give a damn. I earned this seat. I earned everything. Sarah was mine now. Marco? That bastard was a ghost, a scared little whisper hiding in the dark, too broken to come for her.I took a slow sip, letting the burn roll down my throat, and smiled to myself. All the noise, all the fight she had when we first grabbed her… it was fading. Day by day. I saw it in her eyes. Less spark. Less bite. She was still holding on to Marco, sure. But that wouldn’t last. It never did. Not when you had no one left to believe in. Not when all the walls closed in.All I needed was time. Time and a little patience. Women like her, they didn’t fall easy — but when they did, they fell hard. I’d treat her good once she saw it. Once she stopped looking at me like I was the enemy. She didn’t get it yet, but she would. I’d give her everything. New clothes, good food, no more
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