I arrived at the bar earlier than planned. It was tucked away on a quiet street near the marina, the kind of place where tourists barely trickled in, and locals came to drink away the island heat. The sun was starting to set, casting a burnt-orange glow over the water, but I wasn’t here for the view.I parked the car and leaned back in my seat, staring at the entrance. The bar was calm, almost empty, just a few patrons scattered at the tables outside, sipping drinks, enjoying the breeze. It was the perfect place for a conversation—one that could go south fast.*Carlos.* I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t want to. The man had been like family to me. We’d built our operation from the ground up, weathered storms that would’ve crushed lesser men. And now? Now, he was somehow tied to Sarah’s kidnapping. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted this to be some huge misunderstanding. But every sign pointed to him, and I wasn’t about to ignore it.I pulled my gun from the glove compartm
MARCOI took off after Carlos, barely pausing to check my surroundings as I followed him out of the bar and down the dimly lit street. The cold moon cast long shadows on the pavement, but all I could see was Carlos, his figure cutting through the crowds as he darted ahead, weaving past tourists and locals who threw confused glances in his direction. He was moving fast, but I was faster, each step pounding into the ground as I zeroed in on him.“Carlos!” I shouted, my voice raw with anger and adrenaline. “You’re only making this worse! Stop!”He didn’t even look back. Instead, he picked up speed, his legs pumping harder, as though the very sound of my voice put fuel in his veins. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself harder. The chase stretched on, the distance between us shortening then lengthening, like some sick, twisted game of cat and mouse. He dodged around a family stepping out of a store, nearly colliding with a little girl, and I saw him throw a quick apology over his shoulder be
MARCOI tightened my grip, my patience wearing thin. Carlos was bleeding, slouched against the alley wall, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. But despite the pain, he looked up at me with a twisted smile, almost like he was enjoying this.“Carlos, start talking,” I said, my voice low, barely controlled. “I’m done playing games. I’m losing patience here.”He laughed, coughing as pain flashed across his face. “Oh, Marco… you have no idea, do you?” His voice was weak but taunting. “You really think you’re gonna get anything out of me?”I shoved him harder against the wall, the back of his head hitting the brick with a dull thud. “Don’t test me, Carlos. Where’s Sarah?”He closed his eyes, laughing again, his smile curling even wider as he cracked open one eye. “You’ll never find her in time. She’s gone, Marco.”I felt my fists clench, my whole body tightening with anger. “What did you do, Carlos?” I demanded. “Who’s helping you?”He coughed, wincing as he shifted his leg, pain clea
SARAHThe moonlight barely crept into the cramped, stifling room where I sat, casting a faint, sickly glow on the four cold walls around me. I’d lost track of how long I’d been here. Hours had blended into days, days into a blur of nothingness. It felt like time was playing tricks on me, slipping through my fingers whenever I tried to grasp it. Eventually, I stopped trying, letting it all blur into a single, endless stretch. The only thing that marked one moment from the next was the tray of food they’d shove under the door.It was there now, sitting by the door in silence, like an unwanted visitor. Soup. A hunk of bread. All stale, cold. I hadn’t touched it, not once. Hunger clawed at my stomach like an animal, but every time I looked at the food, I felt a surge of revulsion. I couldn’t trust anything they gave me. For all I knew, they were lacing it with sedatives, something to make me docile, compliant. No, I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction. I’d drink a few sips of wate
SARAHThe sight of Danzo standing there made my blood run cold. I couldn’t believe it—Danzo, here? Of all people. Was he here to help? To save me from whatever nightmare Carlos had planned? My mind clung to that single hopeful thought as he stepped into the room, looming in the dim light. His eyes scanned the small, bleak cell as if he were bored with the entire scene, and I found myself searching his face, hoping for even a hint of compassion, something to reassure me that he hadn’t completely lost his humanity.I opened my mouth, voice barely above a whisper. “Danzo… please…”Before I could say more, he interrupted me with a soft, mocking chuckle. His eyes glinted with something far from kindness, more like amusement. “Carlos really outdid himself, didn’t he?” he sneered, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “Managed to get you away from Marco’s watchful eyes. Now that’s something I didn’t expect. I would’ve bet he’d bungle it all up.” He chuckled again, shaking his head like this w
SARAHHours slipped by, each one stretching out longer than the last. My eyes stayed fixed on the door, locked on that single point, waiting. Waiting for anything—a sound, a creak, the faint scrape of a footstep. For the next monster to walk in, or maybe, against all odds, for some impossible savior. But as the minutes crept by, any hope I’d been clinging to started to feel thinner, like a thread stretched too tight. With every tick of silence, that thread seemed more and more likely to snap.My mind kept wandering back to Danzo. His voice, that mocking laugh. It felt like he was still in the room, like his shadow lingered long after he was gone. I could still feel his grip on my shoulder, the cruel amusement in his voice when he talked about Marco. My pulse quickened, a heavy feeling twisting in my stomach. I never wanted to hear his voice again, never wanted him near me again, but the reality was setting in. He was my captor. And he’d made it clear—he’d be back for me soon enough.I
SARAHDanzo's fingers hovered over his phone, each tap slow, deliberate, and sinister. My stomach twisted with dread as he dialed Marco’s number. The rings echoed through the room, each tone stretching out, clawing at me as I braced for whatever twisted game Danzo had planned. After a few rings, the call dropped. Danzo gritted his teeth, his jaw tight as he hit redial, frustration flashing in his eyes. He glanced at me, his gaze filled with a twisted satisfaction as if daring me to hope. He wasn’t about to let this go. This wasn’t just a call for him; this was a show, a piece of his cruelty he was savoring.The phone rang again, and this time it connected. Danzo’s lips curled into a sick smile as he hit the speaker button."Who is this?" Marco’s voice snapped, hard-edged and wary, though a thread of something else crept in too—concern. Danzo chuckled, a low, taunting sound that filled the room like poison. “Marco,” he sneered, drawing out his name as if it were something to toy with
MARCOAs soon as Petrov and Tony stepped out of the chopper, I was there to meet them. We moved in silence, taking a cab to the hideout. It was the kind of silence that was thick, heavy. I could feel the weight of everything we weren’t saying. The whole ride, I tried to stay calm, tried to convince myself that I had it under control.After a while, Tony glanced over, breaking the silence. “Marco,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, almost casual, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. Luis has things handled back home. This… right here? It’s our focus.” He nodded, his confidence unwavering, and I did my best to give him a reassuring look in return.When we arrived, Petrov wasted no time setting up his equipment. He had his tools out, his focus sharp, ready to trace any possible leads. Watching him was oddly comforting, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. I took a deep breath, figuring it was finally time to tell them everything. “Listen up,” I said, drawing their att
MARCOI woke up as the nurse came in quiet that morning, like she didn’t wanna wake the dead.She had a soft look on her face, not the usual kind you see on shift changes. She stood by the door for a second, then said, “Doctor’s signing the discharge. You’re going home today.”Sarah didn’t speak. She just gave a small nod, slow, like her neck hurt to move. Her hands were curled in the blanket, pale and still. I looked at her for a beat, then nodded back to the nurse. She gave a faint smile, the kind that tries to mean well, then left us alone again.I helped Sarah sit up. She winced, but didn’t complain. My arm was behind her back, firm but careful. She felt small, light—like the hospital bed had drained whatever weight she had left.“You okay?” I asked.She didn’t answer right away. Just sat there, breathing shallow. Then she nodded, not looking at me.I walked over to the sink and ran some water. Got her toothbrush ready. She moved slow, like each motion was a decision. I held her u
SARAHThe first thing I heard was the soft beep of machines. Slow, steady. My head felt heavy, like I was coming out of a long tunnel. My throat burned, and my body ached in places I couldn’t name.I opened my eyes, just a little. White ceiling. Bright lights. Hospital.I blinked slowly and turned my head. The room was quiet. No voices. No Marco.My chest tightened.I looked toward the chair beside the bed. Empty.Where is he?I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my side. I stopped, breathing through it. My hand reached for the blanket. My fingers were weak, shaky.The door creaked open, and a nurse walked in. She had soft eyes, a calm face. Her steps were quiet. She glanced at the machines, then at me.“Oh, you’re awake,” she said, walking over. Her voice was gentle. “Take it slow, okay?”I nodded faintly. My lips moved, but no sound came out. I had to swallow twice before I could speak.“Where’s Marco?” I whispered.She smiled a little. “Your husband hasn’t left the hospital. He
MARCOThe doctor looked at me and paused. His face was calm, too calm. My heart dropped right there.Then he said it.“We lost the baby.. It was a boy...”I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I just stood there, stuck in that moment.“What?”My voice came out hoarse. I wasn’t sure I said it right.The doctor sighed, slow.“There was too much trauma. Too much blood loss. We had to make a split-second decision, Mr Marco. It was either Sarah… or the baby.”I stepped forward, shaking my head. “No, no—don’t say that. Don’t fuckin’ say that to me.”He raised his hands a bit, like he was trying to calm me. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But we had to act fast. There was no time to—”“You could’ve saved both!” I barked. My voice cracked. “You didn’t try hard enough!”“There wasn’t enough time,” he repeated. “Her pulse dropped. She flatlined for a moment. We brought her back. If we hesitated, you’d have lost them both.”“No,” I muttered. I couldn’t breathe right. “No, you’re supposed to be the fuckin’ expe
BANG.BANG.BANG.I heard the shots before I even realized what was happening. And then I saw her fall.“Sarah!”Everything froze.Her body hit the floor like something snapped in me. Blood poured out too fast. Too red. My heart dropped straight out of my chest.I didn’t even look at Marcel. I knew Petrov and Tony had hit him. I saw him slump to the ground in my peripheral. But all I could focus on was her. Sarah. My wife. My everything. Lying there in a puddle of blood, her stomach bleeding out.“No… no, no, no…”I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling as I reached for her.Her blood was everywhere. It soaked into her shirt, into the carpet, onto my hands.“Sarah—hey, baby. Hey.”Her eyes blinked, slow and weak. She looked like she was slipping. She reached out and grabbed my jacket with what little strength she had left.“I’m here,” I said, holding her hand. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”Shots rang out behind me again—Petrov and Tony going after Isabella as she r
MARCOI knew I had a second, maybe two. That was all it would take. I just needed the right opening. If I could shift my hand just a little, maybe fake like I was dropping the gun but catch Marcel off-guard—put a bullet right through him before he pulled the trigger on Sarah. That was the plan in my head. Fast. Clean. Over.I looked at him. Then at the gun pressed to her skull. My hand twitched.His eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”Sarah screamed as he pushed the gun harder into her.“Try to act smart again,” he said, voice calm, but not in a good way. “Try anything and I swear, her brains paint this floor.”My plan died right there.I bent down and set the gun on the ground. Real slow. Real careful. No sudden moves.He smiled. Sick bastard looked like he just won.I tried to glance to the side. Give Tony or Petrov some kind of signal. A nod. A blink. Anything.But Marcel caught it. Of course he did.He laughed. “You still think you’re running the show, huh?”He raised his voice. “Tony. Petrov
MARCOBullets flew the second that door blew open.I didn’t even have time to think. My ears rang, the lights flickered, and glass shattered somewhere behind me. I ducked low, pressing my back against the chair, as my heart pounded like a drum in my chest. I couldn’t tell who the hell was shooting, all I knew was it wasn’t Marcel’s crew. That was enough.Just then Marcel screamed something, I couldn’t hear it over the gunfire. He grabbed Isabella and yanked her down behind the bar cabinet near the side wall. Coward. Took cover with a bottle of scotch while the world burned.I’d been wriggling the damn cable tie on my wrist ever since his speech started. Flexing, turning, rubbing it against the sharp edge under the armrest. My skin was raw and burning, but I didn’t stop. Not once. And now it finally paid off.One last twist — the tie snapped. I yanked my left arm free, then the right, pain tearing through my shoulder as I moved. I didn’t waste a breath. Dropped low, rolled to the side,
MARCOThey dragged me in like a dog. Wrists tied behind the chair, ribs throbbing from the last round of hits. Two of Marcel’s boys kept my arms tight while another threw a punch right into my stomach. I grunted, leaned forward, and caught a second one across my jaw.I didn’t scream or beg.I just looked straight ahead at him.Marcel.Sitting in his chair like some king, legs crossed, drink in his hand. There was a sick grin across his face like he was watching a comedy show.The guards landed another hit. One to my shoulder. One to my gut again. My body was wrecked, but my mind stayed sharp. I kept staring at him. Letting him know I wasn’t broken.When they were done, I coughed and spit a mouthful of blood to the side, then looked right back at him.“You done?” I muttered.He laughed. “You still got that mouth on you.”I didn’t reply. I just kept staring. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for anything — an opening, a mistake. I wasn’t dying in this chair. I’d kill him. Somehow, some way. He w
MARCOSmoke swallowed everything. Thick, sour, crawling down my throat. I couldn’t see five feet in front of me. Couldn’t hear anything but that damn ringing — sharp and endless like it was coming from inside my brain. Felt like the world cracked in half, and I was standing right at the center of it.My knees buckled as I took a few shaky steps. My hand went straight to my head, gripping tight like that’d make the noise stop. But it didn’t. It only got worse. I couldn’t even tell if I was walking forward or in circles.“Gio?” My voice came out broken. Dry. Weak.“Petrov?”Nothing.“Tony?” I tried louder. “Denis!”Still nothing.My heartbeat was the only real sound now. That, and the crunch of debris under my boots as I stumbled ahead. My eyes burned — from smoke, from panic, I didn’t know. I blinked hard, over and over, until the haze started to shift.Then I saw them.My heart dropped. I mean really dropped — like the floor disappeared underneath me.All four of them were down. Flat
MARCOWe moved slow down the corridor, shadows thick around us, every step tight and careful. The walls felt like they were closing in more with every turn. My gun was warm in my hand, not from use, but from how long I’d been gripping it. I didn’t loosen my fingers. Couldn’t. Not now.Denis came up beside me, pressing closer to the wall, breathing heavy but steady. His sleeve was darker than before — the blood still hadn’t stopped. But he kept moving. That’s the kind of man he was.“Its clear now Marcel knows,” Denis said, voice low.“I know that, Marcel right?” I responded, even though I already knew the answer.He nodded. “Maybe he thinks its not you. But he knows someone’s here. He’s spooked. Movement in the north wing, checkpoints locking up tighter.”I looked ahead, eyes narrowing at the half-lit hall we were creeping down. “What where Sarah is being kept?”“That’s the thing,” Denis said. “Still no extra traffic to the east side. Either Damien doesn’t believe it’s you, or he’s wa