ANMELDENMarco's words echoed in my head. Frank is upstairs pacing. I pushed off the counter and set the glass aside. The soft clink against the counter sounded too loud. When I got close to the stairs, I could hear his pacing. The staircase voiced my presence with a slow, drawn-out squeak. His door was slightly ajar. Light spilled through the opening. I knocked once, softly, and the pacing stopped. “Come in.” I pushed the door open and clicked it shut behind me. Frank stood near the window, his back was half turned to me. One hand on the window frame, steadying himself. He had cleaned up now, and I could see a bandage wrapped around his arm. He definitely looked like a man in distress. “You should take a break.” He let out a loud breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. His back was still turned to me. “Rest is for the people who don't have something to lose, Jane.” “You're going to have a breakdown,” I urged, stepping closer and putting a hand on his sh
I turned the knob, allowing the door to click shut leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own breathing. I shoved the notebook under my arm, pressing it hard against my rib, stuck hidden beneath my jacket as I slipped through the doorway. Instead of heading up, I veered toward the kitchen, needing a glass of water I didn't really want. I stared into the glass of water, tracing the condensation on its surface, as if the answers were floating in the clear liquid. I pulled the notebook out just an inch, flipping to the page. A heavy footstep hit the floor with a sound like a gunshot. I jumped and blinked. "What are you staring at." I looked up and found his Marco staring at me from the doorway. My heart performed a violent kick against my ribs. I slid the notebook back into my waistband and turned. There was a glass of amber liquid in one hand, his suit jacket draped over his shoulder. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened, the top button of his shirt undone. He looked lik
The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over stainless steel counters and untouched instruments. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, sharp enough to sting.I paused outside the door before entering and listened.Still, I didn’t move immediately, my eyes flicked down the empty hallway, scanning corners, shadows, the reflective surfaces of glass panels that could betray movement behind me. The compound had been restless since the attack. Guards doubled, footsteps heavier, conversations cut short the moment I passed.Everyone was watching everyone.I reached for the handle slowly and pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. The hinges gave a soft click behind me as I closed it, carefully. Only then did I turn. Darius was already there.Leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. He didn’t look up immediately, like he was listening for something beyond the room.Only when the silence stretched long enough did he spea
The car door slammed shut beside me. Frank slid into the driver’s seat, blood still drying along his jaw. The engine roared to life, and the building disappeared behind us as he pulled onto the road. I pressed my hands against my thighs, trying to steady them, but the adrenaline was still racing through my veins. The images wouldn’t stop replaying in my mind—the gunshots, the bodies on the concrete, the moment the gun had been pointed at me.Frank drove like a man who knew every inch of the road without needing to look at it. One hand on the wheel. The other rested loosely near the gun on the console.His face was calm again. If someone had stepped into the car right now, they would never have guessed what had just happened in that building.Blood had dried in a thin line along his jaw where the punch had split the skin. The cut had stopped bleeding, but the edges were still very red.The road stretched ahead of us, dark and empty. For a while, the only sounds were the engine and the
I stared at him for a moment after he said it.“I don't know how to love someone without trying to keep them.”The words hung between us, heavy and immovable. There was nothing left for me to say.So I turned and walked out. My heart was still beating too fast. My thoughts louder than my footsteps.Halfway down the hall— A gunshot exploded.The sound was violent. Deafening.I froze.Another shot cracked through the air before my brain could catch up. Frank was there.His hand closed around my arm and jerked me backward so hard my shoulder hit the wall.“Stay down.”I barely had time to react before a third shot tore through the hallway. The bullet slammed into the wall where my head had been a second earlier, concrete dust exploding into the air.My breath caught.Frank’s gun was already in his hand. I didn’t even see him draw it. And just like that, the man I had been arguing with disappeared. What stood in front of me now was Frank Costello. Head of the Costello crime family.His b
Frank stood by the closed door, shoulders squared, his presence pressing against the air itself. Then, slowly, he turned. Every movement measured. Every step intentional. His eyes found mine across the concrete floor, dark and unwavering. And then he spoke. The words were sharp in the silence, as bare and cutting as a blade. “No.” The room seemed to shrink around that single word. Every heartbeat, every thought, every fear pressed in tighter. I blinked, swallowing hard. There was nothing to argue with, just him. And the quiet, absolute weight of his answer. “Why,” I asked, my voice calm, just needing to understand. “Because it wasn’t relevant to you.” I blinked. I didn't know when it started.My hands found the nearest chair, and I threw it. The sound it made hitting the concrete wall was enormous in the empty room. The echo of it bouncing back at me. It wasn't enough. I screamed. Not words. Just sound. The raw, unformed sound of something that has been compressed too lo
The street outside the compound was quieter than I expected.I walked without direction. Just movement. Frank’s voice followed anyway, pressing against my ribs like a weight I couldn’t shake.I stopped at the first place I found that wasn't his house. A small café on the corner. Chairs outside. No
I stared at my phone until the screen went dark in my hand.At some point exhaustion dragged me under, because when I opened my eyes again the room was flooded with pale morning light and my neck ached from the awkward angle on the pillow.I lay there for a moment, heart racing with the memory of t
I woke up sore.Not the bad kind. The kind that came with a specific memory attached. Frank's hands, the way he'd said my name, the particular look on his face right before—I turned my head.He was already awake. Lying on his back, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling with the focused e
For a moment, Frank didn't move.He stood frozen at the door, hand still on the handle, back to me. The silence stretched so long I wondered if he'd heard me at all.He turned slowly. The look on his face... I'd never seen him like this.“Tell me you are staying—not because I blackmailed you, not b







