SARAHMarco’s eyes bore into mine, a mixture of intensity and something I couldn’t quite place. He moved closer, his touch electric. I felt a shiver run down my spine as his fingers explored my skin. I wanted to resist, to push him away, but my body had other ideas. The wetness between my thighs was undeniable, and I hated myself for it.“This is just a one time thing,” I told myself, trying to maintain some form of control. “Just one time, and then it will never happen again.”Marco’s hand trailed down my side, his touch firm and possessive. He was in control, and he knew it. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continued to edge me closer and closer to the brink.“Do you like this, Sarah?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me you like it.”I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me admit it. But my body betrayed me, a soft moan escaping my lips as he increased the pressure.“Stubborn as always,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his li
SARAHIt had been a week since Marco’s cruel stunt, and I did everything in my power to avoid him. Every time I heard his voice, a chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t even bear to look in his direction. Our last encounter was still painfully fresh in my mind, and the humiliation and anger I felt had not subsided.I had become an expert at timing my movements around the house. If I heard his footsteps coming down the hall, I found a reason to be somewhere else. If he entered a room, I made an excuse to leave. It was exhausting, but the alternative—facing him and risking another encounter like the last—was unbearable.“I can’t keep doing this,” I muttered to myself, trying to summon the courage to face him, but my resolve crumbled every time I thought of his mocking laughter. The memory of him edging me, leaving me on the brink, then walking away with that smirk on his face, still haunted me.I sat in the kitchen, pretending to read a magazine, but my mind was elsewhere. The maids bustl
SARAHI spent the next few days studying the guards’ patterns. Every moment was an opportunity to observe, to find the weak spots in their routines. I felt like I was going crazy, but I knew it was the only way out.Every morning, I positioned myself near a window with a clear view of the front gate. I noted the times they manned the gates, their shift changes, and when they seemed less vigilant. I had to be meticulous. I had to know every detail.“Alright, they switch shifts at 8 a.m.,” I muttered to myself, scribbling down notes. “The next shift comes at 4 p.m., and the night shift starts at midnight.” It felt like I was planning a heist, but instead of stealing something, I was trying to steal my freedom.I noticed that around noon., the guards gathered near the gate for a smoke break. They would chat and laugh, momentarily distracted. “This is good,” I thought. “A potential opening.” I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of excitement.During meal times, the number of guards dec
I spent the morning making the final preparations for my escape. Every moment felt like an unsafe balancing act, but I had to maintain my composure. My hidden stash was still intact: the maid’s uniform, a small container of gasoline, a lighter, and a makeshift rope. I checked each item, my heart racing as I imagined the steps I would need to take.I planned to hide in the back of one of the trucks, slipping out when the opportunity arose. The image of freedom beyond these gates was the only thing keeping me focused. I reviewed my plan in my head, ensuring I remembered every step, every detail. There was no room for error.The day began like any other, with the usual hustle and bustle around the house. I forced myself to interact with the maids as usual, maintaining my act. It was crucial that no one suspected anything. As I walked through the kitchen, I ran into Maria, occupied in her work. Stepping in she turned to me. “You look tired, Miss Sarah. Everything okay?” Maria asked, her
The adrenaline running through my veins felt to good to be true. I couldn’t believe I’d actually pulled it off. I had planned a heist and executed it without a single hitch. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, a mixture of relief and disbelief. “Who would have thought?” I whispered. “All that time under Marco must have toughened me up.”I ducked into an alley, my heart still racing. My mind was buzzing with a million thoughts. I had to be careful now, more than ever. I needed to stay off Marco’s radar. “The last thing I want is to get caught and dragged back to that prison after all of this” I gritted.The first thought that crossed my mind was to call Nicole. She’d know what to do. She’d help me figure out the next steps. But then I stopped myself. Marco might find a way to trace the call and maybe even harm her too, he's that heartless. He had eyes and ears everywhere. I couldn’t risk it.Suddenly my thoughts drifted to my father. A wave of panic washed over me. Would Marco hurt
MARCOThe dimly lit room of my office buzzed with the low hum of conversation. I leaned back in my chair, observing the men around the table. Each of them had their own piece of the empire, their own slice of power. We were discussing territory disputes, something that always seemed to be on the agenda.“Vinny, how’s the situation on the east side?” I asked, my tone casual but firm.Vinny leaned forward, his voice gravelly. “We’ve had a few issues with the Rossi family. They’re trying to muscle in on our turf. I’ve got a meeting set up with the heads of the 5 families tomorrow. I’m gonna make it clear they need to back off.”I nodded. “Good. We can’t afford to show any weakness. If they don’t back down, we’ll handle it our way.”Tony, a heavyset man with a scar across his cheek, chimed in. “What about the shipments coming in next week? Any word from our contacts at the docks?”I smirked. “Everything’s on schedule. We’ve got the port authority in our pocket. There won’t be any issues.”
SARAH “Dad, we don’t have time to argue. Just pack a bag!” My voice shook as I tossed a duffel bag at him. The urgency in my tone must have jolted him because he finally started moving, albeit slowly.“Sarah, what’s going on? Why do we need to run?” he asked, eyes wide with confusion and worry.“I’ve done something big, Dad. I had to get away from Marco, and this was the only way. I set a fire at the mansion to create a distraction. It worked, but he’ll figure it out soon, and then he’ll come for us. We need to leave now before they start looking for us.”He stopped packing and stared at me. “A fire? Sarah, you can’t be serious.”“I am serious, Dad. Marco is dangerous. He’s not going to let this go. We have to stay ahead of him.”“But where will we go? We can’t just run without a plan.”“I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s far from here. We’ll figure it out on the way,” I said, my voice rising in panic. “We just need to move.”He looked at me, his face etched with concern. “Sar
SARAHI woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck. My head throbbed with a sharp, relentless pain, and every muscle in my body ached. I groaned, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Everything was blurry, my vision still adjusting.The floor beneath me was hard and cold, the air stale and musty. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my head. The dim light made it difficult to see much, but I could make out the outlines of a small, windowless room. The walls were bare, the only furniture a rickety chair in one corner.I struggled to sit up, my movements slow and clumsy. My wrists were sore, and as I looked down, I realized they were bruised from the bindings. I tried to piece together what had happened, but my mind was a foggy mess.Groaning, I managed to pull myself into a sitting position. My head felt like it was splitting open, and I had to close my eyes for a moment to keep from being sick. I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself.“Where am I?” I whispered to
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
MARCOThe door clicked shut behind us as we got into the warehouse, the sound barely louder than a breath, but it made my shoulders tighten anyway. No turning back now.Inside, the hallway stretched ahead, cold and narrow, concrete walls sweating under dim, buzzing lights. Shadows shifted along the floors, long and slow like they were alive. We kept close to the edges, moving low and tight, every step thought out. No wasted moves. No wasted noise.Denis was right behind me, eyes glued to the small handheld device strapped to his wrist. The screen flickered every couple of seconds, showing black and white camera feeds from inside the compound. He tapped the screen twice, then waved me over with a sharp flick of his fingers.“Straight two halls, take a left,” he whispered, voice so low it barely stirred the air. “One guard at the station. He’s sitting, not moving.”I gave a tight nod. Lifted my hand and gave the signal. Two fingers. Tony and Gio caught it instantly, adjusting their posi
MARCELI kicked back in my chair, boots up on the desk, glass of whiskey hanging loose in my hand. The oak groaned under me, but I didn’t give a damn. I earned this seat. I earned everything. Sarah was mine now. Marco? That bastard was a ghost, a scared little whisper hiding in the dark, too broken to come for her.I took a slow sip, letting the burn roll down my throat, and smiled to myself. All the noise, all the fight she had when we first grabbed her… it was fading. Day by day. I saw it in her eyes. Less spark. Less bite. She was still holding on to Marco, sure. But that wouldn’t last. It never did. Not when you had no one left to believe in. Not when all the walls closed in.All I needed was time. Time and a little patience. Women like her, they didn’t fall easy — but when they did, they fell hard. I’d treat her good once she saw it. Once she stopped looking at me like I was the enemy. She didn’t get it yet, but she would. I’d give her everything. New clothes, good food, no more