MARCOI lit a cigarette, letting the bitter taste settle on my tongue, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling. The office was too quiet, just the faint hum of the AC and the soft scratch of the papers I’d tossed aside. But my eyes kept drifting back to those damn records, like they were mocking me from the corner of the desk.I took a deep drag and leaned back in my chair, trying to shake off the tension coiled in my chest. The numbers didn’t lie. But the problem was, I didn’t have the answers yet. That’s what got under my skin the most—not knowing.I shifted in my seat, finding a comfortable spot, my body sinking deeper into the leather. My eyes felt heavy, the stress weighing me down more than I realized. I stared at the ceiling, the smoke blending with the shadows, and before I knew it, my mind drifted somewhere else. Somewhere softer.I saw her. My baby. I hoped Sarah woould give me a girl. Laughing, her little hands reaching for me, her smile brighter than the sun outside. She w
SARAHI sat in the living room, my fingers working the knitting needles in a slow, steady rhythm. The yarn twisted and looped, but my mind wasn’t in it. It was supposed to help me relax, to keep my hands busy, to distract me. But tonight, it wasn’t doing anything.The unease in my chest had settled there hours ago, and no matter how much I tried to ignore it, it wouldn’t go away.Something was wrong.I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, but I could feel it.Marco had been different lately. Not in an obvious, loud way. No, it was the kind of change that someone else might not notice. But I did. I noticed everything about him.The silence. The way his stares lingered a little too long on nothing. The way he checked his phone constantly, his jaw tight, his shoulders stiff. I wasn’t sure he even realized he was doing it. Marco wasn’t the type to fidget, but lately, he’d been on edge in a way that didn’t sit right with me.And then there was that phone call.That night, I had woken up to
ISABELLAThe bass pounded through the club, the kind of heavy, pulsing beat that made people forget who they were for a few hours. Bodies pressed together, the air thick with sweat, liquor, and bad decisions waiting to happen.I sat back in my booth, one leg crossed over the other, my drink swirling in my hand as I watched the chaos from a comfortable distance. This was a place where people lost themselves.But I wasn’t here to lose anything. I was here to gain.Aisha.Marco’s secretary. His loyal employee. His trusted little confidante.And my personal rat.His trusted little worker bee. The one with access to his files, his schedules, his secrets.And the one who had been feeding me just enough information to keep her bank account happy.The things people did for money. It never failed to amuse me.Just as I lifted my drink to my lips, my phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up, bringing it to my ear without much interest.“Who’s this?” I asked lazily, even though I already knew.
SARAHI woke up to the sound of Marco snoring beside me, his arm lazily draped over my waist. His face was buried in the pillow, his mouth slightly open, and the sound coming from him was loud enough to rival a chainsaw.I stifled a laugh, watching him for a moment. He looked so unbothered, completely knocked out, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.Smirking, I grabbed the small pillow beside me and whacked him lightly on the head.Nothing. Not even a flinch.I laughed even harder, hitting him again, but he just let out a deep sigh and turned his head the other way, his snoring continuing like some sort of broken engine.“Oh my God, Marco,” I whispered between giggles. “Are you even breathing properly?”He didn’t respond. Obviously.Shaking my head, I slid out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, still laughing to myself. As I turned on the shower, my mind drifted back to last night.The way Marco had held my hands, looking at me with such intensity. The way his voice had sof
SARAHI moved across the grand hall, scanning every detail with sharp focus. The last of the decorations were being placed, the final lights adjusted, and the catering team was already setting up at the far end. Everything was falling into place, yet I couldn’t stop myself from double-checking every little thing.“The candles on the main tables,” I said, turning to one of the event planners. “Make sure they’re all the same height. I don’t want any odd ones sticking out.”The woman nodded quickly and gestured to her assistant. “I’ll have them fixed right away.”I exhaled, rubbing my temple as I looked around. The gold accents gleamed under the soft lighting, and the deep red floral arrangements tied everything together perfectly. It was exactly how I envisioned it. Yet, I still felt like something was missing.“Miss Sarah, I think you should sit for a moment,” one of the younger planners, a guy with curly hair, said hesitantly. “You’ve been pacing for hours.”“I’m fine,” I dismissed, w
SARAHI jolted awake, my heart skipping a beat as I blinked against the dim light of my room.A headache pulsed lightly at my temples, and I groaned, rubbing my forehead. I had no idea when or how I even fell asleep. The last thing I remembered was Marco telling me to get some rest—Marco.The party.I shot up, eyes darting to the clock on the nightstand. 7:45 PM.Shit.I had a little over an hour before the party started at nine. That was fine—I still had time. But it wasn’t just any party. It was a night that meant more than just music, drinks, and fancy outfits. It was a new beginning.A fresh start. For me and Marco.With a deep breath, I pushed off the bed and headed straight to the bathroom, shedding my clothes as I turned on the warm water. Stepping under the shower, I let the heat sink into my skin, easing the slight tension in my shoulders.But my mind wasn’t at ease.Marco’s parents were coming.I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, inhaling deeply. Marco had just tol
SARAH Marco’s hand tightened around mine as we stepped forward, his grip steady, reassuring. “You ready?” he murmured, his voice low, just for me. No. Not even close. But I nodded anyway. My heart pounded as we approached his parents. This wasn’t just any introduction—this was Alessandro and Vittoria De Luca. People whose names carried weight, respect, and fear in equal measure. They weren’t just influential; they were legends in their own right. And I was about to meet them. Marco’s father, Alessandro, stood tall with an air of effortless power. He didn’t need to command attention—it just happened. He had that presence, the kind that made you straighten your posture without realizing it. His silver-streaked dark hair was neatly combed back, his sharp features unreadable. Beside him, Vittoria De Luca was just as intimidating in her own way. Elegant, poised, with piercing dark eyes that assessed me the moment we came into view. Her expression gave away nothing, but I could
AISHAI stood in front of the mirror, my heart hammering against my ribs. My hands hovered over the rack of dresses I had laid out, my fingers brushing over each fabric as I tried to decide. This had to be perfect—tonight had to be perfect. Or at least, it had to look perfect.I swallowed hard, exhaling shakily as I reached for a sleek black dress. It was tight, hugging every curve, the neckline plunging just enough to be enticing but not desperate. I needed Marco to look at me. I needed him to want me—just enough for the camera to capture it.I tugged the dress on, smoothing it over my hips, my stomach twisting in knots. Could I even pull this off? Could I really do this?You have to.I grabbed my makeup brush, dusting powder across my face as I stared at my own reflection. My eyes looked too wide, my lips too tight. I needed to calm down. But how could I? This wasn’t just some party—I was setting a trap.A dangerous one.I reached for my lipstick, twisting it up with shaky fingers.
MARCOThe office was a mess.Stacks of paper all over the place. Unread letters. Open files. Phone numbers scribbled on napkins and matchbooks. My desk looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks, because it hadn’t. Everything after the warehouse, after Sarah, after the hospital, none of this mattered until now.I sat behind the desk and just stared at the mess for a minute. Sighed. Pulled the closest pile toward me.Shipment logs, missing crates, unsigned wire transfers, lists of guys needing greenlights for pickups, some bullshit about territory numbers. We’d let it all pile up while I was at war with the Rossis. And then when Aisha pulled out, it just made it worse. Like the whole left side of our operation stopped breathing.I leaned back in the chair, ran a hand over my face, then started digging in.One paper at a time.I signed off a few delayed shipments first—some in Queens, some in Jersey. Then went over the list of crews still active. Tony kept them moving while I was out,
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