{CARA'S POV}**The van jerks to a stop, and I’m thrown forward. Yet I catch myself from falling onto the angry bird in front of me. My breath hitches as I glance out when the doors finally open.A black house. That's what I see next.It’s more of a fortress, really. Sharp edges, no windows, and a looming presence that makes the forest around it seem even darker. Though, it was late at night. The place looks like it was plucked straight out of someone’s worst nightmare.Edmondo is already moving, shoving the van door wider. Not like he was even fat or anything. He doesn’t even look at me as he hops down. He mutters something to Giovanni, who follows after him.They’re leaving me here.“Wait… Edmondo!” I call, but he doesn’t stop. He just disappears into the house, his silhouette swallowed by the shadows.The cold air bites at my skin, and I realize how ridiculous I must look. Barely covered, shivering even, with dirt smudged on my legs and arms. I wrap my arms around myself, glaring
{CARA'S POV}**Edmondo’s grip on my arm is unrelenting as he pulls me down the dim hallway. My thoughts are scrambled, the image of the man on that table burned into my mind. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to run. But my feet are glued to the ground, moving only because he’s dragging me along.“What now?” I manage to spit out, trying to keep my voice steady. It doesn’t work.He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at me. His jaw is set, his movements sharp and mechanical.We stop in front of another door.It’s different from the others. Painted black still, with heavy metal hinges that look reinforced. My stomach churns as Edmondo pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks it.The door creaks open, and I’m hit with a wave of... something. It’s not a smell, exactly, but a sense… thick and charged. Like the air before a storm.“Go in,” he orders.I hesitate. “What is this?”He grabs my wrist and pulls me inside before I can resist.The room is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
{EDMONDO'S POV}**The door clicks shut behind me, and I don’t look back. I’ve left her inside, exactly where she would soon belong. Let her soak in the reality of what she’s stumbled into; a world built on blood, precision, and unrelenting control.I have bigger things to handle.Giovanni trails behind me like a shadow, his sharp gaze dissecting my every move. He’s waiting for me to crack, to give him a piece of my mind. But I don’t bite. Not yet.“She’s a wildcard,” Giovanni says finally, his voice smooth, calculated. “You sure bringing her here was the right call?”I glance at him. A humorless smile tug at my lips. “Do I ever make a wrong call?”“Not usually. But this one feels... personal.”I stop walking, turning to face him. Giovanni is taller, broader, but he knows better than to mistake that for an advantage.“She’s leverage,” I say coldly. “And you don’t get to question my moves.”He chuckles, low and dark. “Leverage, huh? That’s what we’re calling it now?”“Enough.” My voic
{EDMONDO'S POV}**Suddenly Luigi rushes in a few minutes after stepping out to take a call. His expression looks like it's carved from stone. Whatever he’s about to say isn’t good. Why? Luigi doesn’t rattle easily, and that’s exactly why his entrance sets everyone on edge.“We’ve got a problem,” he says, stopping just short of the table where the blueprints are spread out.I raise an eyebrow. “Be specific.”Luigi hands me a folded piece of paper, the kind that reeks of old-school espionage. No phones, no digital trails. Smart. But the moment I see the handwriting, my jaw tightens. It’s from one of our men stationed at the southern docks; Dominic.I unfold the note, scanning its contents. The words are curt, but the message is clear.Bruce’s people know. And they’re coming. Not just for the docks or me. For her.The heat in my chest burns hotter with each word. So, this is how they want to play it. The syndicate Bruce ran before he ended up at the wrong end of my gun was always a th
{Edmondo's POV}**I’m not a man who dwells on mistakes. Mistakes waste time, cost lives, and show weakness. But right now, as I step into the room and see her standing there… her small figure shaking, her hand clutching that swimsuit… I know I’ve fucked up.I don’t know how she found it. My control room is always cleared after every use, swept meticulously by Giovanni’s team. No trace of anything or anyone remains. But somehow, this… Agata’s swimsuit… ended up there, and now Cara’s staring at me like I’m the devil incarnate.“Cara…” I begin, my voice steady, controlled, but I don’t get any further before her palm cracks against my face.The slap doesn’t hurt. I’ve taken worse from men twice her size. But this? It hits somewhere else. Somewhere deeper.“You bastard!” she spits, her voice breaking.I stand still, letting her have this moment, letting her pour out whatever she needs to. I can see the fire in her eyes, the anger fighting with hurt. Her tears are right there, trembling
{Cara’s POV}**“You’ve got guts, Cara,” he says. “But you’re forgetting something. Actions have consequences.”I step back instinctively. The primal need to flee overtakes me, but the edge of the bed presses against the back of my knees. There’s nowhere to go. “Don’t you dare try to twist this on me!” I snap, though my voice wavers. “You… you had this…” I throw the swimsuit at him, and it hits his chest before falling to the floor. “You had my sister’s swimsuit in that disgusting room and now you tell me she was special to you? What the hell, Edmondo?”His eyes flick to the fabric now lying between us. For the first time, something shifts in his expression. Guilt? Regret? No… it’s fleeting, gone before I can name it. He bends down and picks it up and his fingers tighten around the material.“You don’t know anything about this or I and Agata so say less,” he mutters.“I know enough!” I shout. “This belonged to Agata. I made it for her with my own hands. My hands. And you just kept
{CARA'S POV}**I don’t wait for the door to fully close behind him. The second Edmondo steps out, I’m already moving. The air in the room feels suffocating, thick with his lies and my anger. My chest tightens, and I need to get out; now.I grab the first piece of clothing I can find, some oversized coat draped across a chair, and wrap it around myself. It smells faintly of him; wood smoke and leather. But I push the thought away. This isn’t the time to let his shadow consume me. I take off the heels and make sure my feet is bare. Staying quiet while running away is the smartest I can do.The door isn’t locked. Stupid of him. Or maybe he didn’t think I’d dare. Either way, I slip out silently, my bare feet padding against the cold floor.The house is a labyrinth, dark and full of whispered dangers. Well, and the weapons. The walls seem to lean in, and every creak of the floorboards echoes like a warning. I have no idea where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.A distant v
{EDMONDO'S POV}**I’ve been too soft on her. That much is clear now. I gave her freedom, patience, and even answers. What did I get in return? A slap, insults, and the audacity to spit on me. And now, she’s gone.Cara doesn’t understand who I am, what I’ve allowed. I’ve let her tantrums slide, thinking they’d burn out. I thought the fire in her would dim with time. That she’d realize there’s no life for her outside my control. But now, I see I’ve underestimated her. I thought kindness could break her. But it seems she only respects fear.“Still no sign of her?” My voice cuts through the tension in the room like a blade.Luigi, standing by the door, stiffens. “No, sir. The men are combing the woods and checking all roads leading out of Trento.”“How hard can it be to find one woman?” I growl, slamming a fist onto the desk. The wood groans under the force, but I barely notice.“She’s clever,” Luigi offers hesitantly, though his words only fuel my anger.“Clever? She’s reckless. And
{CARA'S POV}**The sharp, acrid smell of something burnt jolts me awake, and I sit up with my little heart pounding. The dim room around me spins as I try to orient myself, my throat dry and aching."Shit," I whisper, clutching my head. Where the hell am I?I glance around the unfamiliar space. It’s small, barely furnished. And reeks of smoke. A charred pile of something sits in the corner near what looks like an old fireplace. The embers still glow faintly, casting eerie shadows on the walls.Then I hear it. My own name."Cara."I whip around, my pulse racing. Standing in the doorway is a young girl, no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her blonde pixie-cut hair gleams in the low light, and her wide green eyes lock onto mine with a mixture of curiosity and familiarity.“Who are you?” My voice is sharp, and I hate how shaky it sounds.The girl tilts her head, frowning. “Cara,” she repeats, like it’s supposed to mean something to me.My chest tightens. She knows my name.I force myse
{CARA'S POV}**Moments after Ingrid's warning blur into chaos.I feel the fear radiating off her as she grabs my arm. “We don't really have time,” she says, dragging me toward the door. Her voice is low and urgent now. Ah, and I almost didn't catch the flicker of her green eyes meeting mine before she glances toward the window, scanning.. the trees?“Hey, Ingrid, what the hell is going on?” I hiss, trying to pull free.She ignores me. Her grip tightens.“Listen to me,” Her voice trembled. “I'm going to get you out of here. Just follow my lead, okay?”I want to argue, demand answers. But the thundering of boots on the wooden porch stops the words in my throat.The door bursts open with an eardrum-shattering crack, shards of wood from the door flying everywhere. Men in black flood the room. They make precise and lethal movements. “Don't move!” One of them barks, aiming a rifle at I and Ingrid.Instincts kick in. I step in front of Ingrid, shielding her. But she doesn't cower. Inste
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