SARAHI stared at the walls, my mind hazy and dull. They looked so cold, stained in patches, with smudges here and there—reminders of other lives, other people who had been trapped in here before me. The air felt thick and stale, pressing down on me like the weight of all my thoughts. I wasn’t tied up this time, at least. But the freedom to move didn’t make much difference when the guards were still there, stomping around like they owned the place.The hallway outside was cramped and narrow. Through the small window in the door, I could see the guards passing by, their boots thumping rhythmically as they paced. They laughed with each other, their voices crude and wild, making nasty jokes and tossing around the kind of words that made me want to shrink into myself. Every time they laughed, a chill spread over my skin, reminding me how little control I had here. Every part of me knew that trying to escape would be useless. I didn’t even know where I was, and from the looks of it, there
SARAHI woke up with a sharp jolt, my whole body aching. The first thing I noticed was the pain, but it wasn’t the same kind I was used to—the sharp, throbbing pain of captivity. No, this was different. It was dull, like a thud in the back of my skull that wouldn’t leave, and everything else felt sore in a way I didn’t recognize. I tried to open my eyes, but the light burned through my lids, forcing them back closed. I groaned, my hand instinctively going to my head, hoping the pressure would ease, but as my fingers grazed my scalp, something felt wrong.I froze. Something was on my wrist. Something cold. I lifted my hand slowly and felt something thick and soft, like a bandage, but it wasn’t a bandage. It felt more… like medical tape. I opened my eyes fully, blinking to adjust to the light. What I saw made my stomach drop.I was in a bed, but not the hard, cold floor I was used to. I was lying down, my body wrapped in soft, clean sheets, with an IV drip stuck in my arm, attached to a
SARAHI was too numb to resist as Danzo’s men closed in around me, each rough hand on my arm or shoulder pushing me forward. The small spark of defiance I’d clung to, the one that had gotten me this far, was all but extinguished now, buried under the weight of failure. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Danzo. But I could feel his gaze, that amused, twisted satisfaction radiating off him.Once they brought me back to the same sterile room and practically threw me onto the soft bed, I let out a strangled, defeated breath. The warmth of the sheets felt mocking now, a reminder of my own foolish hope just minutes ago.One of Danzo’s men shoved my shoulders down, forcing me back into the bed. His grip was merciless, his eyes indifferent as he strapped me down with the restraints I’d worked so hard to free myself from before. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. It grounded me, reminded me I was still alive, for whatever that was worth.Danzo strolled in casu
MARCOI set the phone down slowly, feeling its cold weight in my hand as the call ended. The finality of it pressed down on me like a thick fog—heavy, unnerving. He had confirmed my resignation. He’d told me where to pick Sarah up. But none of it felt right, like waking up from a bad dream only to realize you’re still stuck in it. The silence in the room was too still, too loud, broken only by the steady, muted breaths of Tony and Petrov beside me. They waited, both of them watching me closely, and I forced myself to take a deep breath, to clear the swirl of unease that kept nagging at the back of my mind.Tony was the first to break the silence, leaning back in his chair with that usual smirk—half-reassuring, half-infuriating. “See? I told you this would happen.” He stretched his arms out, almost too casual, too satisfied. “First things first—Sarah is safe, Marco. She’s alive, which is a damn good factor in all this.” He paused, raising a brow. “Now? Now it’s our turn. Time to hit th
MARCOThe room was silent except for the smooth metallic sound of zippers being undone as Dimitri revealed his collection. The bag laid open on the table like a treasure chest—polished steel and black carbon shining under the dim light. Dimitri, ever the perfectionist, straightened the weapons out with precision, each gun lined up like soldiers ready for inspection.“Don Marco,” Dimitri began, his voice low and steady, “everything here is the best of the best. Tuned to your specifications. You know me—I don’t do sloppy.”I stepped forward, running my hand along the cold steel of a semi-automatic. It felt good in my hand, the weight just right, balanced and deadly. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I said, cocking the gun to feel its mechanism. Smooth. No drag.Dimitri’s lips quirked into the faintest smile. “Try it out. The recoil on that one is practically non-existent. It’s custom-built for speed and precision. The kind of weapon that doesn’t just take a man down—it sends a message.”I r
MARCOThe night air clung to me like a heavy cloak, thick with tension and the metallic scent of salt from the nearby docks. As I stepped out of the car, the first thing I did was adjust the mic in my ear. Petrov’s faint voice buzzed briefly in the connection, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this. But still, the silence surrounding me felt absolute, broken only by the distant hum of machinery and the soft crunch of gravel under my boots.My hand hovered close to my side, grazing the cold steel of the gun tucked under my jacket. I didn’t draw it, not yet, but the feel of it was a small comfort. The shipyard was a maze of shadows and towering containers, each one a potential hiding place. My eyes darted left, then right, sweeping for movement. Nothing. Not yet.“Marco, can you hear me?” Petrov’s voice crackled in my ear, low but clear.I pressed the mic lightly. “Loud and clear.”“Good,” he replied. “We’ve got eyes on the perimeter. Cameras are feeding us everything in real t
MARCOThe silence inside the narrow hallway was almost unbearable. The dim, flickering light above me buzzed faintly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. My boots clicked softly on the metal floor as I moved further in, my breaths shallow and controlled. Every step felt heavier than the last, each one carrying me deeper into uncertainty.“Petrov,” I whispered, pressing a finger to the mic in my ear. “Petrov, can you hear me?”Nothing. Just static.I paused, my heart thudding harder as the realization hit me. The connection was dead. Whether it was deliberate or accidental, I was on my own now.“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the hallway for any sign of movement. My hand instinctively drifted toward the gun hidden beneath my jacket. I didn’t pull it out yet, but just feeling its presence steadied me a little. Whatever was waiting for me here, I wasn’t about to face it unarmed.The hallway stretched further ahead, leading to an open door on the left. The sh
MARCOThe goons gathered my weapons with smug satisfaction, tossing them onto the floor like trophies. My knife. My Glock. The backup pistol. Each piece felt like a part of me being stripped away. I clenched my jaw as the masked man stooped to pick up my gun. He held it up to the dim light, turning it over in his hand like he’d just found buried treasure.“Nice piece,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he inspected the setup. “Who’s your plug, Marco? This stuff’s top-tier. Custom job? Or do you just know the right people?”I didn’t respond, glaring at him in silence. My hands itched to grab it back, to feel the weight of it in my palm, but my wrists were bound tightly behind my back.“Not much of a talker, are you?” he continued, pacing slowly in front of me. He raised the gun and mimed aiming it, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. This feels good. Might keep it. Hope you don’t mind.”I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I focused on what they hadn’t found—the tiny chip in my boo
SARAHWhen Marco pulled into the parking lot, I practically jumped out of my seat, my excitement building. But as soon as we stepped out of the car and got a full view of the place, I froze.“Uh… Sarah,” Marco said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the massive neon sign above the entrance. “When you said chocolate spot, you didn’t mention this.”I followed his gaze, my cheeks heating up as I realized what he meant. “It’s… um… an amusement park? With chocolate?”He let out a sigh, shaking his head with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Of course. I let you pick one venue, and somehow, we end up in a kid’s playground.”I pouted, crossing my arms. “It’s not just a kid’s playground. It’s… an experience.”Marco gave me a look, half-amused and half-exasperated. “An experience?”“Don’t act like you’re not intrigued,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the entrance. “We’re already here, so we might as well have some fun.”He chuckled, letting me drag him along. “You’re
SARAHI stood in front of the mirror, tilting my head slightly as I adjusted my earrings. My fingers brushed against the delicate pearls, the cool texture grounding me as a soft sigh escaped my lips. Tonight felt different. It wasn’t like the other nights we’d spent together—those moments marked by tension. This felt lighter, simpler. No obligations. No commands. Just Marco and me, stepping into something normal for once.I took a step back to admire myself in the reflection, smoothing the fabric of my dress. It was a deep red, a color I didn’t wear often but felt right for tonight. The material hugged my body in all the right places, the neckline bold enough to make me feel confident but still subtle enough to stay within my comfort zone. I turned slightly, letting the hem swirl softly around my legs, and smiled.“Not bad,” I murmured, tilting my head again.My makeup was understated, but I’d been careful with every stroke. A soft blush warmed my cheeks, a touch of eyeliner made my e
SARAHI woke up feeling strangely disoriented. My body ached in ways I hadn’t anticipated, and as I stretched, I noticed the sheets tangled around me like a storm had passed through the bed. Blinking a few times to adjust to the soft light filtering through the curtains, I frowned. Why did the room feel so… off?My hands instinctively smoothed over the sheets, trying to piece together what had happened. It wasn’t until I turned my head and saw Marco sleeping beside me, his chest rising and falling steadily, that everything clicked into place.He was shirtless, his tanned skin illuminated softly by the morning light. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his expression was serene—almost unrecognizably peaceful compared to the intense, brooding man I was used to dealing with. For a moment, I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories from last night came crashing down.My face grew hot as I recalled the way he’d carried me to the room, his strong
SARAHI froze mid-step, my heart skipping a beat as I nearly collided with Marco. He stood in the hallway, his broad frame filling the space, and his face was a mixture of annoyance and something else I couldn’t quite place. Relief? Concern? Either way, I smiled automatically, my nerves kicking in.“You’re back early,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt. “What’s the occasion?”Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly as he crossed his arms. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing down here?”I blinked at him, playing innocent. “What do you mean? It’s just the kitchen.”“You know exactly what I mean, Sarah,” he said, his tone sharp but not unkind. “If you needed something, one of the staff could’ve brought it to you. There’s no reason for you to be walking around.”I frowned, the tension in my chest flaring. “Marco, I’m pregnant, not a log of wood. I needed to stretch my legs and take a break from staring at the four corners of that room. Besides,” I added with a shrug, “I wanted t
SARAHI got out of bed, unable to stand the restless feeling that had taken over. The silence of the room felt oppressive, and just lying there made my thoughts race even more. I stretched my arms above my head, rolling my shoulders to ease some of the tension. But it wasn’t enough. My muscles still felt stiff, my mind still a mess.I glanced down at my stomach and placed a hand there, exhaling slowly. “This is all for you,” I whispered softly, a mix of frustration and warmth flooding through me. Marco’s strictness made more sense now, even if it grated on my nerves. But did he think I was some fragile doll who’d shatter if I so much as left my bed? The thought made me snort quietly.I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself.My eyes landed on the pile of clothes in the corner. Folding them wasn’t exactly exciting, but it would keep my hands busy. I moved to the pile and started sorting through it. One shirt, then another. The steady rhythm of crease, fold, stack was almo
MARCOTony leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “The past few weeks have been crazy, man. I don’t even know where to start. Feels like the hits just keep coming.”“No doubt,” I said, pouring a generous measure of whiskey into three glasses. “Danzo’s finally out of the picture, but the mess he left behind? That’s going to take time to clean up.”Tony sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s not just the mess. It’s what it means, Marco. If someone like Carlos could turn on you, someone that close? What the hell are we supposed to do now? Trust anyone? Forget it.”I nodded, sliding a glass to him and one to Petrov before sitting back down. “Exactly. That’s what’s been eating at me. Carlos was like family. Hell, he was family. And he worked with Danzo to take me down. It makes you question everything.”Tony took a sip, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the amber liquid. “You’re telling me. The guy smiled in our faces, broke bread with us, laughed at all our dumb jokes… and t
SARAHMarco guided me through the front door, his hand steady on the small of my back. I paused just inside, looking around. The house felt familiar, yet somehow foreign. It was strange—like stepping into a dream you couldn’t quite remember. Everything looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was because so much had happened since I was last here.Marco must have noticed the way I lingered, my eyes scanning the space like I was trying to recognize it. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, leaning closer. “Does it feel different?”I nodded slowly. “A little. It’s like… I’ve been gone for years instead of weeks.”He smiled at that, his hand brushing against mine. “Well, you’re home now,” he said firmly. “And I’m going to make sure it feels like home again.”As we moved further inside, the staff was already lined up in the grand hallway, their faces lighting up when they saw us. The maids, the guards, even the cook—they were all there. It was almost overwhelming.Marco stepped f
SARAHMarco hovered like a mother hen, his hand never straying far from the small of my back as we walked down the hospital hallway toward the lobby. His other hand lingered near my arm, ready to steady me even though I was perfectly capable of walking on my own.“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice lined with what I could only describe as exaggerated concern.I bit back a smile, trying not to let his overprotectiveness get to me. “I’m fine, Marco. You don’t have to keep asking.”“I do,” he replied without missing a beat. “You might not realize it, but this is a big deal. I’m not taking any chances.”I sighed, shaking my head slightly. “I’m pregnant, Marco, not dying. You need to chill.”He ignored me, his hand gently pressing against my back to guide me toward a nearby chair as we reached the lobby. “Sit down for a minute,” he said, his tone firm but still laced with that same overbearing concern.I gave him a look but complied, easing into the chair. “Happy now?”“Getting ther
SARAHIt had been a few days since I learned the news, yet it still felt surreal. Pregnant… I was pregnant—with Marco’s child. The words felt strange, even in my own mind, like they belonged to someone else. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a tangled mess. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they look like him? Strong jawline, sharp eyes, and that commanding presence that made people stop and listen? Or would they take after me—quieter features, softer edges, and a personality that blended in rather than demanded attention?The thought made me smile for a moment, but it didn’t last long. My chest tightened. Marco. My joy was tied to him, and that wasn’t exactly comforting. He was overwhelming—controlling, even. Sometimes, he was impossible to predict. But then again, he was also passionate, fiercely protective. Could I trust him to be all those things for our child? Or would his darker side, the one I’d seen far too often, cast a shadow over our family?I let out a long breath, rub