LOGINSARAH
I was blindfolded, my hands bound in front of me as the car bumped along a rough road. My heart raced, the sound of the tyres on gravel filling my ears. Where were they taking me? My mind swirled with fear. I tried to calm myself, but the darkness only made my thoughts more terrifying. Had they found out about our plan to run away? My mind raced with fear and regret. What if something had happened to my father? My heart ached at the thought of him, alone and worried. I strained to hear the men’s conversation, hoping to catch a clue about my fate or my father’s safety. “You think the boss will go easy on her?” one of the men asked, his voice rough and casual like he was discussing the weather. “Hell no,” another replied with a chuckle. “You saw how pissed he was. She’s lucky if she gets out of this without a few broken bones.” My stomach churned at their words. My father’s face flashed in my mind, his kind eyes filled with worry and fear. Had they already gotten to him? Was he hurt, or worse? “She’s got guts, though,” the first man said, a note of admiration in his voice. “Most people would’ve been crying by now.” “Yeah, well, guts don’t mean shit to the boss. He wants his possession, and he wants to send a message. No one crosses him without paying the price.” I shivered at the coldness in their voices and the casual way they spoke about violence and pain. The darkness of the blindfold seemed to close in on me, suffocating my hope. I had to stay strong, had to believe that there was a way out of this. “You hear what happened to that last guy who crossed him?” the first man continued. “He ended up in a ditch, missing a few fingers. They never did find his body.” A third man, silent until now, spoke up. His voice was quieter, more serious. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. Orders are orders, and we do what we’re told. The car finally came to a halt, and before I could gather my thoughts, I was yanked out. My feet stumbled on the rough ground, and I heard a harsh voice warn me, “Don’t scream or try anything funny, or you’ll regret it.” Still blindfolded, I was dragged forward, each step heavy with dread. The air grew colder as we entered what felt like a shed. The blindfold and the ropes on my wrists were yanked off, and I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the dim light. I took in the scenery for a brief moment—an old, eerie shed with tools and rusted equipment scattered around. My eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a sight that made my blood run cold. My father was tied to a chair, his face battered and bruised. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, and one eye was swollen shut. “Papa!” I screamed, rushing towards him. I fell to my knees beside him, tears streaming down my face. “Papa, oh my God, what did they do to you?” His good eye opened, filled with pain. “Sarah… you shouldn’t be here,” he croaked, his voice weak and raspy. I turned to one of the goons, my rage boiling over. “You’re all heartless! How could you do this to him?” They all just started laughing, a cruel and mocking sound that echoed in the shed. One of them stepped forward. “Heartless? Sweetheart, this is just business. Your old man owes our boss a lot of money, and this is how debts are settled on this end.” I clenched my fists, shaking with fury and helplessness. “You don’t have to hurt him. Have you all no shame?!, just let him go!” The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Anything, huh? We’ll see about that. But for now, you both stay put. The boss will be here soon, and he’ll decide what to do with you.” Another goon sneered. “Yeah, don’t get any ideas, girl. We're in control here.” I turned back to my father, gently touching his battered face. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I’ll find a way to get us out of this, I promise.” He shook his head slightly, tears mixing with the blood on his face. “It’s not your fault, Sarah. I never should have borrowed that money.” The door creaked open, and the goons straightened up, their expressions turning serious. “The boss is here,” one of them muttered. I held my breath, dreading what was to come. The door opened wider, and he walked in, his presence commanding and cold. His eyes swept over the scene, landing on my father and then on me. His expression was unreadable, but the danger in his eyes was clear. His men immediately went quiet, and the tension in the room got thick. The only sounds were my sobs and my father’s pained grunts. Marco stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Well, well,” Marco said, his voice smooth and dangerous. “Looks like we have a little family reunion here. How touching.” “My name is Marco De Luca, my dear Sarah,” he said, his voice smooth but menacing. “I never really had the chance to introduce myself properly.” I glared at him through my tears. “Why are you doing this? He doesn’t deserve this!” Marco sighed, almost as if he was tired. “Let me tell you a story, Sarah. It’s about the importance of a man keeping his word.” He paced slowly, his eyes shifting between me and my father. “There was once a man who made a promise to his family, to protect and provide for them. But times were hard, and he found himself in need. So he made a deal with a powerful man, taking money with the promise to repay it. But he failed to keep his word.” Marco paused, looking at my father. “Do you know what happens when a man breaks his word? His family suffers. The powerful man doesn’t care about the reasons or the excuses. He only cares about the broken promise. And he will do whatever it takes to ensure that such disrespect is met with consequences.” His eyes darkened, the room seeming to grow colder. “Your father made a promise, Sarah. He took money from me, promising to repay it. And he failed. Then he tries to run from me? he must face the repercussions.” My father groaned, his head hanging low. “I’m sorry, Sarah…” Marco’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “This is what happens when a man doesn’t keep his word. People get hurt. Lives are ruined.” Marco took off his coat, hanging it meticulously on the back of a chair I hadn’t noticed was there. He then turned to me, his eyes cold and calculating. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to the chair opposite him. I hesitated but then slowly walked over and sat down, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re heartless,” I spat. “You’ll never get away with this.” He cut me off with a firm, loud voice that echoed in the small shed. “The only reason your father is still breathing, Sarah, is because of you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with menace. “I don’t tolerate failures. Men like your father, deserve punishment. He’s only alive today because, for some reason, I find you… intriguing.” His words sent a shiver down my spine. How could he be so cruel and yet so calm? As he spoke, my mind raced. Marco continued, his eyes never leaving mine. “You should thank your lucky stars, Sarah. Without you, your father would be dead.” I glanced at my dad, slumped on the floor, beaten and broken. My heart ached for him. What had he gotten us into? Marco got up from his seat and walked over to me, his presence dominating the room. He stopped right in front of me, towering over me. “But I don’t just want you as a possession anymore, Sarah.” His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “We’re going to get married, and I’m sure you won’t object, will you?” “And let me remind you, Sarah,” he said, his tone dripping with menace. “You have no choice but to accept my terms. You tried to run away with your father and look where that got you. The more you resist me, the more your father suffers. Do you understand?” I gasped, the shock of his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. “Married? You must be out of your mind.” He smiled, a cold, evil smile. “With that, I’ll write off your father’s debts. Consider it a generous offer.” My mind reeled. Married to Marco De Luca? I swallowed hard, my heart sinking. I knew he was right. Every act of defiance only brought more pain to my father. My own stubbornness had led us here. Marco leaned in closer, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’ll be a good girl and get excited for our wedding, won’t you?” I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but darkness, he was enjoying this. My heart pounded in my chest, fear mixing with a sense of inevitability. I thought of my father, of all the pain he had endured. I couldn’t let him suffer any more because of me. Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ll do as you say.” Marco’s grip tightened for a moment, then he released me, stepping back. “Good. You’ve made the right choice. Your father’s debts will be erased, and you will become my wife.” I felt a lump in my throat, the reality of my situation sinking in. My life was no longer my own. I belonged to Marco now. But if it meant saving my father, I would endure it. I had to. I won’t let him break me.SARAHThe morning was gray and heavy. I woke up still in the same clothes from last night, the fabric wrinkled and sticking to my skin. My eyes burned, my head hurt, and for a second, I couldn’t remember what day it was. The rain hadn’t stopped. It beat against the windows, a dull sound that filled the silence of the room.Marco’s side of the bed was empty, cold. I turned toward it slowly, staring at the imprint where he used to sleep. The air smelled faintly of his cologne, the one he always wore after shaving. I sat up, rubbed my hands over my face, and tried to shake off the fog in my mind.The house was too quiet. No sound from downstairs. No footsteps. No coffee brewing. Just the rain and the ticking clock. I pushed my hair back, feeling a dull ache build behind my temples. He hadn’t come home. He hadn’t even called.I thought maybe he stayed at the office again, or maybe with Tony. I told myself not to think the worst. But the more I stared at the rain, the more uneasy I felt.W
SARAHThe house was too quiet. Even the rain outside sounded louder than usual, soft at first, then stronger, like it was pushing against the windows. The lights were low, only the dim glow from the hallway spilling faintly into the room. I lay there on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my eyes wide open. Sleep wasn’t coming. My mind refused to stop.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him again. The way he looked at me before telling me to go home. His voice had been calm, too calm, the kind that cut deeper than shouting ever could. It kept replaying, word for word, tone for tone. I couldn’t make it stop.The pillow under my cheek was damp. I’d cried more than I wanted to admit, the kind of crying that left my throat raw and my head aching. My chest felt tight, like I’d been holding my breath all night. The air was heavy, carrying the smell of rain and that faint trace of his cologne that still lingered on the sheets.The house felt too big tonight. Every sound echoed—the soft ticking
MARCOIt was past midnight, but I wasn’t ready to go home. The whole building was silent, the kind of quiet that made your thoughts louder. My tie was half undone, sleeves rolled up, a glass of whisky sweating beside my hand. The smell of it hung in the air, sharp and bitter.I sat behind my desk, staring at the papers spread open. Reports, numbers, updates.. none of it made sense anymore. My eyes kept drifting back to that moment earlier today. The look on Sarah’s face when I told her to leave. The way i didn’t let her argue, didn’t even let her try to explain. She just stood there, stunned. Like I’d ripped something out of her.I tried to shove it out of my head. She brought it on herself. She walked into something she didn’t understand and got burned. This business wasn’t made for soft hearts. I poured myself another drink and stared at it too long before swallowing it all in one go.The door opened quietly. Tony stepped in, a folder in hand. His face was tense, cautious. “No updat
SOFIAThe music was loud enough to make the floor thrum beneath my heels. The rooftop lights were golden, soft, making the whole place glow like it belonged to a dream. I sat in a velvet booth near the edge of the club, one leg crossed neatly over the other, a drink in my hand that looked too delicate for the kind of night I wanted.The girls around me laughed and leaned close to each other, the table already littered with glasses, empty bottles, and glittering ice. I barely spoke, but they didn’t seem to mind. They always filled the space for me—talking, gossiping, leaning in to hear my reactions. I didn’t need to perform. I only needed to be here.One of them raised her glass suddenly, her voice half-lost to the bass. “To the comeback of the year!”Laughter rippled around the table. I smiled, tilted my glass toward them, and said softly, “To winning.”They all clinked glasses, the sound sharp and quick like a gunshot. I took a sip, watching the bubbles rise in my drink. One of the w
THIRD PERSONThe door closed behind Sarah and the room fell quiet. The sound of her heels faded down the hallway, leaving only the hum of the air conditioner and the tension she’d left behind. Marco stood frozen, his hand gripping the edge of the desk, jaw tight. Tony lingered by the door, clearly torn between staying and disappearing.Sofia stayed still. She didn’t speak, didn’t move. She watched him instead, letting the silence sink in. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. The first real crack between them.Marco finally exhaled, a sound closer to a growl than a sigh. “Find out who accessed that shipment. I want everything. Logs, accounts, every trace.”Tony nodded fast. “I’ll get on it right away, boss. But whoever did this… they covered their tracks well. It’s clean. Too clean.”Marco’s hand dropped to the chair as he sat. His eyes looked tired, darker than usual. “It’s too clean,” he muttered again. “This wasn’t random.”Sofia took one slow step forward. “You’re right,” sh
SARAHThe room froze. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.The screen still glowed in front of us, lighting the room in a sick, pale hue. Last edited by: Sarah De Luca. The words burned into my eyes, steady and cruel, like they had been waiting to destroy me.For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My whole body felt cold. It didn’t make sense. I hadn’t even opened that file. I hadn’t touched the system all day. My name shouldn’t have been there.I looked at Marco. He wasn’t saying anything. His face was hard, unreadable, but I could see the storm behind his eyes. His silence was worse than anger. It meant he didn’t know what to believe.“That’s not possible,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I didn’t do that. I swear, I didn’t—”Marco’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “The system doesn’t lie.”I froze. The way he said it—cold, distant—hurt more than anything.“Marco,” I started again, trying to steady my voice. “You know I’d never—”“Then explain it,” he said, jaw tight.“I can’t. Because I






