Elena’s mouth opened, closed. “I—I got turned around,” she said, each word shaky but carefully placed.He didn’t buy it. That much was clear.His gaze dragged over her, slow and unreadable. “Break room’s the other way.”She took a step back, but even that small movement felt like retreating from a predator that hadn’t decided yet whether to chase.“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she tried again.“No one interrupts by accident.” His voice was quiet, but it cut through the air like a scalpel. “Not here.”He took a slow drag, let the smoke drift between them. “Everyone who walks through Inferno’s doors brings something with them. Value… or trouble.”The unspoken question hovered in the silence: Which are you?Elena’s breath caught. Her spine stayed stiff, but her palms were damp.He stepped forward—not threatening, not fast, but with the unhurried precision of someone who never had to raise his voice to own a room. Power trailed behind him like perfume.“You’re new,” he said softly. “But n
The kettle screamed from the kitchen, but Marissa Carter didn’t move.She sat curled on the living room couch, staring at the dusty photograph on the mantle—Carter’s arm around her shoulders, Elena nestled between them, grinning with missing teeth. A different time. A different life. Before the blood. Before the silence.Her fingers trembled as she reached for the edges of the knit shawl wrapped around her frail body. The room was cold. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the cold lived inside her now—burrowed into her chest the day they brought Elena home with blood on her hands and her husband's badge in a plastic bag.She had been folding laundry when the knock came. A young officer stood there, face pale, hat clutched tight in nervous fingers. Behind him, Elena—eight years old, shivering, wrapped in a too-large jacket. Her daughter’s eyes were blank. Hollow.That was the last clear thing Marissa remembered before her world went black.The doctors said it was shock. Her body had simply… shut
The night was suffocating—thick with fog, the air saturated with the scent of rain and gasoline. Neon signs bled across the slick alley walls, casting ghostly glows in hues of crimson and blue. Footsteps echoed.Rapid. Uneven. Urgent.Elena’s tiny fingers clutched the rough fabric of her father's coat, struggling to match his long strides. She was just a child again—eight years old, confused, terrified, breath puffing white in the freezing air.“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice small against the storm of his panic.Michael Carter didn’t answer. His eyes were scanning—constantly. The gun holstered at his hip bounced slightly with each step. The alley stretched ahead like a tunnel with no end. Every puddle they passed mirrored their distorted reflections, trembling.A flicker of movement.From the shadows, they emerged.Four men—blurred and faceless, except one.The man with the cigarette.He stood with an infuriating calmness, the ember of his smoke blinking like an eye in the dark. Hi
The street outside Inferno was slick with rain, the neon lights from the club's marquee casting an eerie red glow across the puddles. Elena hit the pavement hard, knees scraping, breath catching in her throat as the bouncers released her. The club doors slammed shut behind her, muffling the pulse of music and laughter within.She sat there for a moment, stunned—her coat twisted beneath her, palms burning from the rough landing. People on the street walked past without a second glance. Just another scene in a city that didn’t care.She wasn’t sure what stung more: the humiliation, or the sound of Adrian’s voice in her ears, cold and dismissive, echoing over and over. "We’ll get back to you."It wasn’t a maybe. It was a no. It was a never. And she had known it the moment he said it, but still—still—she had gone back, begging.Elena pushed herself to her feet, her knees aching, hair falling into her face. She brushed it away and kept walking. The chill in the air seeped through her coat
The club pulsed with an energy that was both exhilarating and suffocating. The dim, golden lights cast elongated shadows along the velvet-lined walls, and the scent of expensive cologne mingled with the faint trace of cigar smoke. The applicants sat stiffly on the leather couches, each one shifting uneasily, their eyes darting toward the large mahogany doors at the end of the room.Elena stood among them, her fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her purse. Her stomach churned with unease, her chest fell heavily like a massive rock was placed on it, but she masked it with indifference, keeping her expression smooth and her face calm. She had been in worse situations. This was just another role to play. Except the stakes were higher than ever.She had researched every detail about Inferno, the crown jewel of Adrian Moretti’s empire. Everything about it screamed exclusivity, power, and danger. It wasn’t just a place to drink and dance—it was where secrets were exchanged, deals
Elena stood before the mirror, fastening the delicate silver chain around her neck. The cool metal brushed against her collarbone, a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. Her reflection stared back at her—sharp cheekbones, deep-set blue eyes, and a carefully neutral expression that she had perfected over the years. She smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in her blouse, taking a deep breath. Today was important. Today, she would take the first real step into Moretti’s world.But first, she had to get through the morning.The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. Sunlight seeped through the sheer curtains, casting golden patterns across the wooden floor. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, a desperate attempt to cover the ever-present medicinal smell that clung to the walls.Elena turned away from the mirror, her heels clicking against the floor as she made her way down the short hallway. She paused outside a door—the only one