LOGINThe old kitchen was completely dark except for the thin yellow streetlights shining through the dirty windowpane. I sat cross-legged on the floor, wrapped tightly in the damp wool blanket Marco had given me at the diner. My bare feet were swollen, the small cuts on my toes throbbing with a dull pain every time I shifted my weight on the cold floor tiles. The flat smelled like old dust and trapped air, a place I hadn't stepped inside for months, back when I thought my biggest worry was just finding enough dance gigs to pay the monthly utility bill. Now, it felt like a tomb.The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of my own ragged breathing. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Andreas standing on that high balcony, his face turning completely into stone as Dante shouted my real name to the room. The pain in my chest was a physical ache that wouldn't go away, a tight knot that made it hard to swallow. He hated me. He thought I was a monster who h
The private office was deathly quiet after Bella left the room. I stood alone by the edge of the desk, my hands flat against the smooth surface as I stared down at the blank screen of my phone. The digital ledgers showing Dante’s secret bank accounts were still glowing bright on my laptop screen, a permanent record of the massive lie that had run my entire life for the last five years. My fingers were shaking slightly as I tapped the glass panel, opening the private tracking software we used to monitor every single device connected to the club’s network.I typed in Arthur’s personal phone number, my breath catching in my throat as the tracking wheel began to spin in a slow circle.Searching, the green text flashed against the dark background.I watched the screen with a tight, painful knot growing right in the middle of my stomach. I remembered the exact way he looked when the guards dragged him through the main lobby just an hour
The blue notebooks stayed open on the middle of the desk, the lines of numbers glowing under the small lamp. I kept my fingers flat against the paper, my chest rising and falling fast as the truth finally broke through my anger. Horton Rowen had never been a traitor to my family. He hadn't sold our routes five years ago. He was just a man caught in a meat grinder, murdered by Dante Moretti to start a fake war that would put the Lionel house in a corner."Boss," Leon said, stepping into the room from the side door. He was holding a fresh set of radio receivers, his face completely pale. "The captains from the south are setting up in the lower lounge. They are bringing three extra cars of shooters into our back lot. Dante’s main driver, Marco’s old partner, is down there talking to them right now.""Let them talk," I said, my voice dropping into a low, flat tone. I didn't look up from the ledgers. "Leon, call Bella back up here. I
I didn't move from the desk for hours. The files on Horton Rowen stayed open on my screen, the bright white light cutting into the dark corners of the room. My mind was still running in that same vicious circle, replaying every look, every soft word, and every touch Arthur had given me. It felt like a disease creeping under my skin. I had built this entire empire on knowing exactly who to trust, and a twenty-year-old dancer had walked right through my defenses without even trying.The lock on the suite door clicked, and the panel turned green. I didn't look up, assuming it was Leon coming back with the final guest counts for the noon meeting.Instead, the door swung open fast, and Bella stepped into the room. Her coat was soaked from the storm outside, her dark hair sticking to her forehead, but her eyes were bright with a fierce, frantic energy. She didn't say a word at first. She walked straight across the rug, reached into her deep jacket
The quietness inside the private suite was absolute, a stark contrast to the chaotic noise still echoing from the main floor downstairs. I stood by the large glass window, staring down at the empty courtyard where the rain was washing over the dark stones. The room felt completely different now, stripped of the life it had just a few hours ago. Every corner reminded me of the boy who had been sitting on the rug, laughing softly while he combed through his hair. It was all a lie. Every single smile, every gentle touch, every tear he had shed in my arms was just a mask to hide the blood of a traitor.I walked over to the desk, my movements slow and stiff. I didn't turn on the main lights, choosing instead to let the dim gray glow from the window illuminate the space. I pulled my laptop toward me, my fingers tapping against the keys with a regular, non-stop rhythm as I bypassed the standard security layers. I went deep into the family archives, entering the six-dig
The Cop’s OfferThe rain kept hitting my face, blurring my vision until the bright neon signs of the club became nothing but streaks of red and yellow in the dark lane. My feet were completely numb, the small cuts on my toes burning from the dirty water running along the curb. I had crawled away from the main gates, hiding myself in a narrow alley between two collapsing brick buildings, my knees pulled tightly against my chest as I shook from the cold. I felt completely empty. The sound of Andreas's voice telling the guards to throw me out was looping in my head like a bad dream that wouldn't stop.A shadow suddenly moved at the mouth of the alley, blocking the faint light from the streetlamp.I pulled myself back further into the dark corner, my heart jumping into my throat. I thought it was one of Dante's runners coming to finish me, or maybe one of Andreas's guards making sure I left the district entirely."Arthur?" a
The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the master suite, a warm and normal scent that didn't belong in a room full of life-or-death secrets. The sun was fully up now, pouring bright morning light across the large bed and the white sheets. I sat at the small breakfast table near the window, my fi
The bass from the main stage was shaking the metal railing of my private balcony. Down below, the club was completely packed with people, a sea of moving bodies under the flashing blue lights. I stood in the darkness, my arms resting flat against the rail, my eyes fixed entirely on the center of th
The lights around the wide makeup mirror were hot, shining directly onto my face as I sat on the small wooden stool. The music from the main floor downstairs was already starting to build, a low, steady thrumming that I could feel in the soles of my feet. I was wearing my dark performance clothes,
The smell of smoke was still stuck in my hair, even after I had washed the black ash off my face and arms. The sun was fully up now, casting a pale yellow light across the papers spread out on my desk. I sat in my chair, my body aching from the long hours at the bridge, but my mind refused to slow







