As we left the church, the difference between Marco and me was crystal clear. I felt like a pawn in some twisted game, while Marco had that smug look, like he'd just won a prize. The reception hall was huge and filled with people celebrating a marriage that felt more like a hostile takeover to me.Marco's hand stayed glued to my waist, his grip firm and unyielding. Every touch was a reminder that I was now his, whether I liked it or not. I walked beside him, my posture stiff, my face a mask of cold indifference. Guests swarmed around us, congratulating us on our union.“Congratulations, Marco. You’ve outdone yourself with this one,” one man said, clapping Marco on the back. “Thank you, Lorenzo,” Marco replied smoothly, his charm never faltering. “We’re very happy.”I forced a tight smile, nodding politely. My eyes scanned the room, looking for an escape, but there was none. Marco's grip tightened slightly, as if sensing my thoughts.“Sarah, you look stunning,” a woman gushed, her eye
I woke up the next morning, still feeling the weight of last night’s encounter with Marco. I dressed quickly, determined to face him with as much composure as I could muster. When Marco finally stirred, he looked disoriented. Good, I thought. At least he wouldn’t have the upper hand completely. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice groggy. I crossed my arms and gave him a cold stare. “You came into my room reeking of alcohol and tried to force yourself on me,” I replied flatly. Marco smirked, his eyes narrowing as he assessed me. “Did it work?” I felt a surge of anger. “The least you could do is show some gratitude for not leaving you on the floor all night,” I snapped. He chuckled darkly. “I owe you no gratitude. You seem to forget that you’re my wife. My possession.” The words hit me like a slap. “I am not your possession, Marco,” I retorted. “You can’t just treat me like a thing you own.” He moved closer, the space between us charged with tension. “You think you ha
MARCOI sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the club, the thumping bass running through my body. The girl had left a few minutes ago, and I had time to think. My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She had been a distraction, something to calmly take my mind off things. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn't get into it.I took a sip of my drink, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat. Since when have I become this sensitive? The life I lead was dangerous, and any moment of weakness could be my downfall. I couldn’t afford distractions, especially ones that made me question my decisions.I glanced around the club, watching people lose themselves in the music, the alcohol, the fleeting moments of pleasure. Was I any different? No. I couldn’t let myself be.I stood up, my mind firming with resolve. It was time to go. I had indulged enough nonsense for one night. I needed to get back to reality, back to the life I had built with blood and sweat.As I made my way through the line of peopl
SARAHWalking to Marco’s study, my mind kept drifting back to Marcel’s phone call. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Marcel’s concern and kindness were like a distant dream compared to the harsh reality I lived in. What was I thinking, even considering talking to him again? Marco had me under constant surveillance, and any hint of disobedience could spell disaster.I wondered if Marco knew about the call. Had he overheard? Was that why he summoned me? My heart pounded with each step, anxiety gnawing at me. I barely noticed my surroundings until I found myself standing in front of Marco’s office door. With a deep breath, I steeled myself and walked in.Marco was sitting in his chair, swinging it slightly as he twirled a fancy pen in his fingers. He ignored my presence at first, his gaze fixed on the pen. His nonchalance made my stomach churn with unease. I scoffed, trying to mask my fear. “You called for me?” I said, my voice more defiant than I felt.Marco smirked, finally looking
SARAHIt’s been two days since Marco set out his rules for me, and they’ve made me utterly miserable. I couldn’t forget the way he forced me into agreeing to his terms, the satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched me crumble, helpless and with no choice but to sign it.I hated him with every fiber of my being. Who does he think he is? I thought, my rage steaming beneath the surface. Every time I pictured his smug face, my blood boiled. The audacity of that man! To think he could control every aspect of my life like I was his puppet. I paced around my room, the walls closing in on me, suffocating me with the weight of his oppressive rules.Curfews, restricted areas, dress codes, behavioral expectations—every detail annoyingly planned to strip away my freedom. I sneered at the silliness of it all, mocking the rules in my mind. Morning curfews? Like I was a child who needed to be told when to wake up. Restricted areas? Did he think I would stumble upon some dark secret that would
SARAHI stood there, stunned by the sight of the baby clothes and toys scattered around the room. It was shocking. Why would Marco have a room like this? The thought of him being connected to something so innocent and tender didn’t make any sense. My curiosity, mixed with a growing sense of fear, urged me to explore further.I tiptoed further into the room, my heart pounding. Suddenly, I stepped on a toy. It squeaked loudly, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I quickly realized it was just a toy and exhaled in relief. But the noise had unnerved me, and my fear increased.Despite my growing anxiety, I approached a shelf that caught my eye. Among the dusty books and knick-knacks, there was a diary. The name “Noe-” was scribbled at the bottom. My hands trembled as I reached for it, eager to uncover whatever secrets it held. I started to flip it open.Just then, a voice cut through the silence, freezing me in my tracks. “What are you doing here?” Marco’s voice was cold and menacing, and
SARAHI woke up from a nap, my head pounding and my body aching. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. The room was dark, and it took me a few moments to reorient myself. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already evening. The realization hit me hard; it had been a full day since Marco had locked me up in that small, suffocating room.I had spent most of the day holed up in my room, refusing to talk to anyone, including the maids. The memory of Marco’s cruel smirk as he threw me into the basement replayed in my mind, fueling my hatred for him and his absurd rules.Who does he think he is? I thought bitterly. Treating me like some kind of possession, dictating every aspect of my life. I despised the way he seemed to enjoy punishing me, the satisfaction he got from my suffering. It made my skin crawl.I stared at the ceiling, trying to push the memories away, but they kept flooding back. The feeling of being trapped, of having no control over my own life, was overwhelming. I h
SARAHI stared at the dress Marco had laid out for me. It was a slinky, revealing dress that screamed for attention. The shimmering fabric, cut low in the front and high on the thigh, made my skin crawl. I hated it. I hated everything it represented. It was just another way for Marco to control me, to humiliate me. My fists clenched at my sides as I tried to summon the strength to put it on.“It’s just for one night,” I muttered to myself, the words barely more than a whisper in the silent room. “You can do this.”I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Each inhale felt like I was dragging a boulder up a hill. My fingers trembled as I unzipped the dress, the sound sharp in the quiet. With a sense of defeat, I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the dress. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. I looked at myself in the mirror, hating what I saw. My reflection seemed to mock me, the dress transforming me into something I didn’t
SARAHI woke up groggy, my head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to it, over and over again. My skull throbbed with each slow beat of my heart, a dull, crushing pain that made it hard to think. Everything was heavy. My eyelids, my limbs, even my breath felt like it took too much effort.The air pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. It smelled awful—sweat, dampness, something rotten. The kind of stink that clung to a place, to the walls, to the people trapped inside. It crawled into my lungs, making my stomach churn.I tried to move, but a sharp ache shot up my arms. My wrists pulsed with pain. Tied? No. Just stiff, numb from how I had been lying. My fingers tingled as I flexed them. The cold floor bit into my skin, rough and unwelcoming.My thoughts were sluggish, crawling through a thick fog. I blinked hard, trying to push past it, to make sense of anything. My head was too clouded, my body too weak. It felt like waking up from a deep, drugged sleep, the kind where reali
MARCOThe phone nearly cracked in my grip as I rushed into the SUV. My hands were steady, but my heart was beating like a war drum. I jammed the key into the ignition, twisting hard, and the engine roared to life. I didn’t waste a second. I slammed my foot on the gas, tires screeching against the pavement as I tore out of the parking lot.The streets blurred past me. Headlights flashed. Horns blared. I didn’t care. I pushed the speed, weaving through cars like they were standing still. The city was a mess of moving lights, but I only had one thought in my head.Sarah.She had to be safe.I prayed, gripping the wheel tighter. I never prayed, but right now, I did. Let me get there in time. Let her be alive.My knuckles were white on the wheel as I cut through traffic, dodging between cars, taking turns so sharp the tires nearly lifted off the pavement. A semi braked hard ahead of me. I spun the wheel, the SUV sliding through a gap so small I felt the side mirror graze metal. The moment
FLASHBACK: The Attack on Marco’s HouseMarcel’s POV⸻I had been waiting for this moment. Watching, studying, knowing that Marco would retaliate the second he got the chance. That was the kind of man he was. If he got hit, he didn’t rest until he hit back harder. It made him predictable.That’s why I wasn’t going to wait for his move. I was going to make the first one.No spies. No informants. No middlemen. Just patience. Observation. And now, execution.I stood with my men in the darkness, watching Marco’s house. The place was locked down tight. Armed men patrolling the perimeter. Cameras on every corner. Motion sensors near the fence line. He thought this would keep him safe.It wouldn’t.I turned to Matteo, my second for this mission. He was calm, like always. He lived for this.“Marco just left,” I said. “Now we move.”No one questioned me. They were waiting for this order.“The objective is clear. No survivors except for Sarah. You see someone moving, you drop them. Fast. No game
MARCOI slid into the SUV, the door shutting with a heavy thud. The weight of it felt final, like the closing of a chapter. The engine rumbled beneath me as we pulled out, cutting through the quiet streets, heading straight for the Rossi base. The city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows, but I wasn’t looking. My mind wasn’t here. It was already ahead, in that warehouse, already seeing how this was going to play out.Hopefully, this was it.This war had dragged on too long. The back and forth, the blood, the bodies—enough. I was tired of the cycle, tired of waiting for the next move, tired of watching the Rossis breathe when they should’ve been six feet under. Tonight, that changed. No more counterattacks. No more back and forth. Just an end.I sighed, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it with one flick of my lighter. The first drag burned just right. My body knew what was coming, and the nicotine settled me just enough.I thought about Sarah.She was probably still sitting at t
MARCOThe chessboard was already set when I walked into the living room. Sarah sat across from my chair, arms crossed, a smug little smirk playing at her lips.“You’re late,” she said.I raised an eyebrow. “Late for what?”She nodded at the board. “For your loss.”I let out a short laugh, shaking my head as I took my seat. “That so?”“Mm-hm,” she hummed, moving a pawn forward. “I’ve been studying.”I glanced down at the board, already seeing how she had set up her pieces. She wasn’t playing like she normally did—impulsive, eager to attack before she had control. No, this time, she had structure. Her knights were placed well, her pawns controlling the center. It was actually… decent.I moved my own piece, slow, measured. “You know studying only gets you so far, right?”Sarah shrugged. “Says the man who’s about to lose.”I smirked, letting her have her confidence. She moved again, faster this time, her fingers light on the pieces. The game picked up, back and forth, each of us watching,
************The Rossi estate was quiet, but inside, the air was thick with frustration and failure. Damien stood near the fireplace, his jaw clenched so tight it ached, hands curled into fists at his sides. The ambush was supposed to end Marco. They had planned everything down to the second, every angle covered, every escape route cut off. And still, he survived. Their men weren’t just beaten. They were slaughtered. It was more than a loss. It was humiliation, and the weight of it sat heavy on Damien’s shoulders.Across the room, Isabella was pacing like a caged predator, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. The anger rolling off her was almost suffocating. She stopped suddenly, raking a hand through her dark hair, her breath coming in sharp bursts.“Unbelievable,” she spat, eyes burning as she turned toward Damien. “We had him. We fucking had him. And now look at us—sitting here like cowards while he reloads.” She took a step closer, voice slicing through the room. “
MARCOThe city blurred past me as I drove, headlights cutting through the darkness. My fingers tapped against the steering wheel, slow, steady. My pulse didn’t spike. My breathing didn’t change. But inside, something cold settled in my chest.They really tried to kill me. Again.And I wasn’t surprised. That was the thing. It didn’t shock me. It didn’t make me pause. This life, this war, it only ended one way. You either take out the enemy, or they take you out. No in-between. No second chances. And last night? They took their shot. Sarah had to pull the trigger to survive. My wife. My unborn kid in the middle of it. Because of them.The Rossis thought they could take something from me. They thought they could shake me. And maybe years ago, I would’ve given them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I would’ve given Damien Rossi a call, laid it out, given him a chance to fix it before I burned his whole fucking house down.But those days were gone.This wasn’t business anymore. It wasn’t neg
MARCO I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Sarah sleep. The room was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavier after a night like last night. The gunfire, the chaos, the blood. It was all still sitting on my chest, but none of it weighed more than the fact that Sarah had pulled the trigger. That she had to. She wasn’t built for this. I knew that from the beginning. But life didn’t care what someone was built for. It threw them into the fire anyway. And now, she was in too deep. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. I didn’t like the way she looked even in sleep—tense, uneasy, like her body was still trying to fight off whatever threat it thought was coming next. I reached for my glass of water on the nightstand, taking a slow sip, keeping my eyes on her. Sarah shifted, her body stirring like she was fighting her way back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then landing on me. “Morning,” I said, my voice quiet. She barely responded, j
MARCELI lifted the gun, aiming for the center of the target, steadying my breath as I pulled the trigger. The first shot hit, the second landed a little off, the third barely grazed where I wanted. I lowered the gun, exhaling slowly. Three out of five. That wasn’t good enough.I turned to the guard standing a few feet away. “Bring me the other model,” I said, shaking my head as I set the gun down. My aim wasn’t usually off. Maybe it was the drink in my hand. Maybe it was the news I hadn’t gotten yet but could feel coming.The guard nodded quickly and disappeared. I poured another glass, taking a slow sip, letting the liquor burn its way down. The air in the room was thick with smoke and gunpowder, a mix I usually found calming, but not tonight.Then the door creaked open. I didn’t turn. I knew hesitation when I heard it. Someone was about to tell me something I wouldn’t like.“Boss,” the man started, voice uneven. “There’s been… a situation.”I swirled my drink, watching the amber li