Police officers rushed in, their authoritative figures in stark contrast to the masked men who had held the girls captive.
"Is everyone all right?" one police officer inquired, his voice laced with concern as he surveyed the room.
A collective exhale of relief swept through the captives as they realized the nightmare might finally be coming to an end. For the first time in what had felt like an eternity, they dared to hope.
The young girl, who had been clinging to Hazel, summoned the courage to speak, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. "Can I go to my mom?"
Hazel, her heart touched by the girl's innocence and vulnerability, patted her head gently and offered words of reassurance. "Now we can all go home."
A warm, genuine smile passed between Hazel and the young girl, a shared moment of understanding and relief.
**
The police officers worked tirelessly, providing information and help to each of the rescued girls and helping them arrange to return to their homes. The gratitude that flowed from the girls toward their saviors was palpable, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the police officers' role in their rescue.
Parents who had lost hope of ever seeing their daughters again arrived at the scene to embrace their long-lost loved ones. Tears of joy mingled with tears of relief as families were reunited, their spirits buoyed by the miraculous turn of events. The girls, who had been abducted, could hardly believe that they were now free and in the loving arms of their families.
"Sir, all of those girls were rescued," a man reported to a young officer who had recently joined the force.
The young officer, Rafael, nodded in acknowledgment, his face reflecting a mix of satisfaction and frustration. "But we failed to arrest those criminals. They simply escaped."
Rafael was known among his peers for his exceptional skills. At just 22 years old, he stood at an impressive height of 6'2", but it was his logical analysis, sharpshooting abilities, and high IQ that had earned him the undersheriff post.
As he reflected on the situation, Rafael couldn't help but feel the weight of their failure to capture the criminals responsible for the harrowing ordeal.
Rafael's mind was consumed by questions as he surveyed the scene. He couldn't help but wonder how the criminals had discovered the location where the girls were being held. The speed with which they vanished after the police arrived was disconcerting.
"How did they find out we were here?" Rafael asked his fellow officer.
"I feel the same way, sir. Seriously, they got away so quickly," the officer replied, his frustration evident.
Rafael continued to move around, examining the lifeless bodies of the criminals who had met their end during the chaotic standoff. As he did so, another officer named Freddie approached him, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Why do they kill their own men, sir?" Freddie inquired, his voice filled with bewilderment.
Rafael sighed and knelt down in front of one of the bodies, studying it carefully. He responded calmly, "They are not their men, Freddie. It appears they were in a skirmish with another gang."
Freddie, not one to hold back his thoughts, offered a somewhat grim perspective. "Cool, I wish they fought among themselves and died together. Afterward, the public could have a happy existence."
Rafael couldn't help but smile at Freddie's dark sense of humor. He got to his feet and replied, "Not a bad idea, but it won't happen. Our system is also corrupted. Someone among us might have informed them."
Freddie raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked onto Rafael's retreating figure as he walked out of the factory. The unanswered questions surrounding the operation weighed heavily on Rafael's mind.
**
Francisco's bedroom, a sanctuary of opulence and luxury, was a reflection of his dark and silent world. The room itself seemed to echo with the weight of his deeds and the secrets he held. Luxurious crimson curtains adorned every window, their rich hue casting a warm, inviting glow across the room. The floor, crafted from gleaming marble, added an air of timeless elegance. A grand canopy bed, draped in sumptuous silk and velvet, commanded the center of the room, its presence regal and imposing.
Its decor and ambiance perfectly matched his taste, a testament to his wealth and power.
Having just returned from a mission, Francisco shed his bloodstained clothes with a casual disregard for the mess they left behind. His attire bore evidence of violence and danger, a reminder of the dark path he walked.
Turning to face the mirror, he examined his reflection with a detached and unreadable expression. His eyes, like the calm surface of a stormy sea, held secrets that were known to few. His gaze fell upon a darkened spot on his back, a reminder of an encounter during the mission when he had been struck with a rod. But Francisco paid it no heed, for physical wounds were but minor inconveniences in his world.
With a languid grace, he proceeded to the washroom, his movements deliberate and unhurried. After each mission, he had a ritual that he followed without fail. An hour-long bath, a cleansing of not only his body but also his soul, was an essential part of his post-mission routine.
The bathroom, another testament to extravagance, was adorned with marble and gold fixtures. Francisco stepped into the large, elegant bathtub, and the water began to flow, warm and inviting. As he submerged himself, he allowed the water to envelop him, washing away the physical and metaphorical stains of his actions.
The water cascaded over his body, mingling with the blood and grime that clung to his skin.
Francisco submerged himself in the water, the world above vanishing as he descended into the depths of his thoughts. His eyes remained closed beneath the water's surface, shut off from the outside world.
With practiced ease, he regulated his breath, allowing himself to stay submerged for extended periods. Time seemed to stretch, and he remained underwater for more than 25 minutes, the silence broken only by the gentle ripples and the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Hazel was scrolling through Francisco’s phone as they sat in the back seat of the car. The engine hummed steadily as the driver focused on the road ahead.Francisco sat beside her, sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye.It was his favorite thing, checking her silently.Francisco chuckled softly.Hazel frowned.His gallery was packed with her photos. His search history was filled with pregnancy articles.It was flooded with searches about pregnancy symptoms, baby care, and maternity safety.“You gave me a different phone on purpose,” she said.“So I can’t see what you’re actually doing—your illegal business.”Francisco let out another low laugh, completely unbothered.“Sweetheart,” he said casually, “I’m a businessman. I don’t always do illegal things.”Hazel shot him a sharp look.He grinned and added, “I don’t just go around killing people for fun.”“And yeah, maybe I’m a mafia boss in your law’s eyes… but in front of the business world, I’m just another investor. Anot
“Hazel.”Francisco’s voice cut through the silence.“You still doubt me? Doubt my power?”Hazel let out a deep sigh.“Undoubtedly… no.”A slight smirk played on Francisco’s lips.“Really?”Instead of answering, Hazel bit her lower lip and turned her back to him.Francisco ran his hand over his rough jaw. He hadn’t shaved, maybe because he was too busy or too tired.Hazel’s eyes drifted toward the porch attached to the bedroom. The thick curtains swayed gently in the cold breeze, the moonlight pouring through and bathing everything in a soft, silvery glow.The view outside looked calm—almost peaceful. The full moon cast long shadows, lighting up the entire porch in a dream-like haze.She was lost in the view when Francisco quietly walked over and sat down in front of her.Francisco had changed his dress.Wearing only a pair of loose trousers, his bare, sculpted body caught the moonlight—every muscle highlighted in sharp contrast, as if carved by the night itself.Amazing, Hazel thought,
“Will you be able to handle everything?” Francisco asked, his voice low as he and Max walked through the quiet garden under the night sky.“Do I have any other option?” Max replied, glancing at him.They both fell silent for a moment, only the sound of their footsteps on the gravel breaking the stillness.“So, you’ve really decided to go through with this?” Max asked, sensing something heavy on Francisco’s mind.“Yes,” Francisco replied, exhaling a puff of smoke into the cool air.“I have to do whatever it takes to protect her... and the child.”Max looked at him with concern.“Francisco, I don’t know… is it really worth it? All of this?”Francisco took a deep breath, then threw the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe.“Max,” he said firmly, “for me, she is everything.""And soon, she’ll give me the best gift I could ever have.”Max looked around the still garden, the silence pressing in.“I’ll pray for you,” he muttered, then let out a soft laugh.“Pray? When we’re
James took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and muttered, “Yeah, everything I do irritates you, but when it comes to Francisco—everything he does is just perfect, right?”Lilith narrowed her eyes, her patience clearly thinning.“James, just shut up.”He smirked, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in her irritation. “Fine, I’ll stop. But let’s not forget—you lost him too.”Lilith’s expression darkened. Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, it looked like she might speak, but she chose silence. Her cold stare said enough.Dimitri let out an audible sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, enough. Let’s stay on topic.”Andrew leaned forward, glancing around the table. “We all know this won’t be easy. Francisco may be reckless, but he’s done a lot—things that kept the balance. We need to decide—do we support this internal power shift, or not?”Dimitri raised a brow and turned to Michele, Kai’s son. “Speaking of balance, Michele... I heard about the recent attack on Francisco.”Mic
The next morning, when Hazel woke up, something felt different. She looked around the room, her brows knitting together in confusion. The walls, once cast in shadows and a cold ambiance, now glowed with soft, natural light. The curtains were lighter, fresh flowers adorned the corners, and the overall atmosphere felt warm—inviting.No longer did the room feel like a prison.Hazel propped herself up on one elbow. “What is this…?”Just then, Lily entered with a bright smile and a large bouquet of fresh flowers in her arms. “Good morning, ma’am.”Hazel blinked in surprise. “Good morning… but what’s going on?”“Sir instructed us to redecorate the room,” Lily replied, arranging the flowers in a vase by the window. “He said it should feel brighter for you.”Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Why?”Lily smiled softly. “Because the doctor said it would help improve your mood.”Hazel pressed her lips into a thin line and said nothing. She simply stood and made her way to the washroom. After freshen
Enemies surrounded Francisco from all sides. He had built his empire on blood, and now the ghosts of his past were closing in.On him.On her.On their unborn child.Hazel studied him for a moment longer before shifting her gaze back to the book in her lap.Francisco’s voice cut through the silence."I didn’t mean to shock you."Hazel didn’t look up. Her tone was flat."It’s nothing new for me."Francisco clasped his palms together, his fingers pressing against each other in thought. He wanted to keep talking to her, to break through the walls she had built around herself, but Hazel was determined to end the conversation before it even began.He blinked slowly, exhaling through his nose.As he watched her, something stirred inside him—an overwhelming craving. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her body against his.He had heard that pregnant women experienced mood swings, that they craved more affection even as they pushed people away.Was th
“So the deal is more important to you than your child?” Arthur asked, his voice gentle yet firm.Hazel fell silent.Her heart pounded faster, but she forced herself to ignore it.Then, Arthur spoke again.“Will you really be able to live without your child, ma’am?”Hazel’s fingers tightened around the book she was holding. She had only been thinking about her freedom, about escaping the monster who had taken everything from her. But she hadn’t once stopped considering the child.Would she really leave her baby with him?Would the child grow up to be like Francisco—a ruthless mafia king?A deep frown creased Hazel’s forehead.No. She didn’t want to think about that. That wasn’t her concern.She was only supposed to care about herself.That was the plan.That was the deal.That was it.Taking a deep breath, she spoke, her voice steady but cold.“Arthur.”Arthur’s eyes remained on her, waiting.“Do you know your boss is monitoring me?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Every second.
Francisco and Hazel arrived at the mansion after the dangerous chaos. The ride had been silent, but the weight of what had happened lingered between them like an unspoken storm.Hazel’s face was gloomy, her expression distant. She wasn’t naive—she knew this was only the beginning.There would be more.More blood. More danger.More reasons to fear for the life growing inside her.Her hand instinctively rested on her belly.At first, she didn’t care much about the child. The idea of carrying Francisco’s baby had been unbearable. But now, an unfamiliar feeling twisted inside her—something more than just obligation. A strange, indefinable bond.Francisco, watching her closely, noticed the way her fingers pressed lightly against her stomach. He didn’t say anything, but he understood.She was shaken.She hadn’t expected an attack so soon.He clenched his jaw. From now on, he had to be more careful.Whatever he had been before—ruthless, reckless, untouchable—it didn’t matter anymore. Now, he
Francisco glanced at his bodyguard, his tone sharp and commanding.“Take her from here. I’ll handle this.”The bodyguard hesitated, his grip tightening on his weapon.“Boss, it’s too risky. How can I leave you alone?”Francisco’s gaze snapped at him, cold and unwavering.“Do you need me to shoot you right now?”That was enough.The bodyguard stiffened, lowering his head in obedience.“Understood.”He turned toward Hazel.“Ma’am.”But Hazel wasn’t moving.Her eyes were locked on Francisco as he fired at the advancing enemies, drawing their attention toward himself.Each shot echoed with deadly precision, but Hazel saw it clearly—he was outnumbered, and he was bleeding.Still, he didn’t hesitate.Didn’t falter.The bodyguard reached for her arm, his grip firm, almost forceful.“We need to move.”Hazel barely registered his words. She was staring at Francisco, unwilling to leave.As they shifted to retreat, a sudden bullet shattered the glass near them with a sharp crack.Hazel ducked in