Sierra’s POV
I heard wrong I thought Jordan said he loved me? No, he doesn’t. I heard wrong. I was wrong to believe everything he said last night and even believe that he ever loved his wife. How could he do this to me? I was seated in my father’s house with Leila’s phone in my hands as I stared blankly at the screen, tears rolling down my cheeks. Jordan wouldn’t, I had said to Leila until she showed me the video. It was real, it was true. *Flashback* I was stunned when Jordan told me we’d be going shopping together earlier this morning. It was a side of him I’d rarely seen—a softness hidden beneath that hard, protective exterior. Part of me felt like I was being given a glimpse of something precious, something he didn’t share easily. As we strolled through the mall, Jordan kept his hand wrapped protectively around my waist. I could feel the eyes of strangers on us—mostly men whose gazes lingered a bit too long. But with him beside me, I didn’t flinch. In his presence, I felt shielded, cherished. We stopped at a boutique, and my attention was instantly drawn to a stunning gown displayed near the window. I took one look at the price tag and shook my head, knowing I wouldn’t dare spend on something so extravagant. But before I could pull myself away, one of the store clerks carefully folded the gown into a box, and to my surprise, Jordan accepted it and handed it to me. “Thank you,” I whispered excitedly. I threw my arms around him in a hug, letting myself get lost in his embrace. But then his phone rang, jolting us back to reality. He gave me an apologetic smile, mouthing that he’d meet me by the restroom once he finished his call. Inside the restroom, I took a moment to catch my breath, feeling almost overwhelmed by the strange blend of sweetness and strength that seemed to make up the man I’d married. I’d thought I knew him, but every day, he showed me another piece of himself. When I stepped out of the restroom, however, my brief moment of peace was shattered by a man waiting outside. His gaze was hungry, his smirk full of something dark and unreadable. “Hey, bitch,” he sneered, his voice slurred. “Looking for some fun?” “Please, just leave me alone,” I managed, but as I tried to push past him, he lunged at me, throwing me to the ground. I struggled, my heart racing as panic set in. But before he could take it any further, a fierce hand grabbed him, yanking him backward. It was Jordan. In a flash, he slammed the man against the wall, a crack echoing through the hallway. The anger in his face was terrifying, raw. I watched, frozen, as he delivered blow after blow, his fists unforgiving. With a final show down, he slammed the man's head hard against the wall, creating a hole equal the man's head. “Jordan,” I called, hoping to get him to stop before he kills the man. When he finally stepped back, the man had slumped to the ground almost lifeless. Jordan’s breathing ragged, he refused to look at me. “Jordan,” I called, my voice barely audible, “Look at me, Jordan,” He didn’t but only walked outside and I followed suit when I saw him leave. I watched how people rushed to the guy after we had left. “Jordan, hey…” I whispered and he finally turned to meet my gaze. “Now you see why I don’t like being tested. I don’t want to be the monster everyone thinks I am.” There was pain in his voice, a weight he carried that no one could see. I'm beginning to see through it all. “You’re not a monster, Jordan. That man you beat in there… that’s the monster. You’re my protector” He looked at me and let out an exhausting sigh before opening the car for me to get in, I did and watched him turn around and came in also. His grip on the steering made my heart ache. Gently, I placed my hand on his, seeing how he stilled--- without thinking, I reached out, wrapping my arms around him, hoping to bring him some comfort. Surprisingly, it did—my action brought about a calmness I myself couldn't decipher. He became calm, and composed, and quietly ignited the car's engine, bringing it back to life. As we drove through the streets, my phone vibrated with a message. I glanced at it—it was from my sister, Leila. “Jordan, I need to go see my parents,” I said softly. His eyes softened as he looked at me. “What’s wrong?” “Leila says my father isn’t well.” I fumbled with my phone, trying to text her back. Without hesitation, he replied, “I’ll take you.” “No, no, it’s okay,” I insisted, sensing he had other matters to attend to. “You have a meeting. I’ll take a taxi.” He stared at me for a moment, reluctant, before finally nodding. “Alright, be good” and I nodded. Once I was out of the car, I noticed two men on bikes trailing me, masked in black. I smiled, realizing Jordan had sent them to keep an eye on me. Finally, the taxi dropped me off at my parents’ apartment. As I stepped inside, I found Leila sitting on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She barely looked up as I entered. Leila and I were like two parallel lines, we never for once got along while I was yet to be married off to Jordan Pierce. “Where’s Dad? You said he was sick,” I asked, concern and confusion battling in my chest. Leila’s lips curled into a smile, her gaze flickering over me. “Oh, he’s out shopping with Mom. I lied to get you here.” She paused, savoring the moment. “I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant.” I stared at her, stunned. “You’re still in college, Leila. How could you…?” I shook my head, reeling. “Who’s the father?” “It’s… it’s Jordan Pierce of course.” She smirked. I let out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s ridiculous.” But she handed me her phone, her gaze challenging me. "Just take a look at the video, Sierra." her smile grew even more sinister. I have had the feeling that she was up to something no good. I hesitated for a while before taking the phone from her. With trembling fingers, I pressed play on the video. And there it was—Jordan’s unmistakable face, his image emerging from the screen as he held her, Leila, my sister, they were close together. “No!” I gasped, my heart shattering as the truth stared back at me.Jordan’s POVThe war didn’t end overnight. It took us months of intentional planning, restructuring and rebuilding trust.Carlos and Lorenzo Moretti not only maintained control of their syndicate but did so under stricter rules. Enough with the senseless bloodshed.” No more betrayals.Alessandro emerged as the power broker but moved to settle relations among erstwhile opponents.What about Gabriel Dravamen? He continued to be a wild card but honoured the pact. It meant Sierra would never have to see him again. He slipped away into the shadows, leaving us in peace.***I should have known that peace was an illusion. The second we made a truce, I felt the claws of the past itch at my back, lying in wait for an opportunity. The life we had struggled to break free from wasn’t going to be free easily. When our fragile new beginning unravelled, it was the enemy without who tore it apart but it was one of our own. Night had descended, cloaking the safehouse in lulling tranquillity. Sierra
Jordan’s POVIt was a lengthy, ruthless and tumultuous struggle. Blood spotted the pavement, and the air was still tinged with gunpowder and sweat. Gabriel Dravamen’s cultists had shaken the very foundation of the city’s underworld when they turned against the men of Carlos Moretti. But now, looking at the rubble, I knew this battle would not last forever. I glanced at Sierra, her face smeared with dirt, her hair a wild tangle from their adventure, but the spark in her eyes was still bright with fierce determination. She had fought for me, she had risked everything, and I’d be damned if I was going to let her spend the rest of her life in constant fear. We had to put an end to this insane battle by hook or crook regardless of how weak I felt.“Jordan…Do you think this battle is worth it,” she asked but I looked at her and suddenly lost my words.“What do you suggest we do?” I asked her after taking time to think on her question for a few minutes.“End it. Reconcile with your enemies
Jordan’s POVThere was a palpable tension in the night air, a heavy mix of unvoiced threats. My fingers flexed at my sides, and every muscle in my body stood up, ready to pounce. The instant the door opened on the van I sensed it. Before us, lined up like a barricade, the fleet of cars stood, their headlights casting harsh beams into the dark, illuminating the figures waiting beyond. Dressed in shades of dark, masked under darkness, armed men stood at attention. Their postures screamed discipline, precision, and most importantly, prepared to unleash hell. From the outside looking in, it was evident these were not just hired guns. They were men trained for combat, their loyalty inextinguishable, and their mission palpable. Carlos Moretti moved like a man in command, rolling the cuffs of his pricey suit as though he wasn’t in the heart of a goddamn battlefield. He flourished on chaos; it had shaped him, and if nothing else, I knew he never walked into a fight he didn’t think he coul
Sierra’s POVSilence enveloped us for a heartbeat, the only noise the drone of the engine and the uneven gasps of our party. Inside the van, the air was thick with anticipation and something more, something dark.Then, as my eyes adjusted to the low-light interior, I froze in my throat. In the corner sat Carlos Moretti, wearing a sleek black suit, and dark glasses on the bridge of his nose. A cigar hung limply from one side of his mouth, a thin wisp of smoke curling up to the ceiling.“You all didn’t know I was here. Well, I accept that compliment you gave earlier,” he said, “Oh, you are welcome,” he barely echoed and pumped out more smoke into the air with reckless abandon.Still talking to himself and all, he chuckled, a slow and gruff laugh that sent a shiver down my spine. It went on too long, stretching that moment into something just disgusting, something grotesque and even annoying, that made my stomach flip.I felt like reaching out to him and smacking him in the face to keep
Sierra’s POVA sharp crack of gunfire pierced the night, and instinct kicked in. Jordan was tumbling down with me as a bullet whined past us and struck the concrete wall behind us.My pulse throbbed so violently that I feared it might rupture my ribs. Dominic was already shooting back, his responses quick and exact. Ethan drew his weapon too, well braced as he shot at the men surrounding us. “Go! Go! Go!” he shouted to his men and directed them with one hand in the air as he plunged them ahead whilst the other hand rested solidly on his gun. He looked in our direction as well and nodded his head for us to move to where the huge crates were stacked.I held Jordan and moved towards the crate whilst Ethan watched our fours ensuring we were behind the crates before going head into the battle that had been staged. I wondered where all the police vans had gone because such chaos and ceaseless firing should have bought them out of their cocoons except they had been bought over.Hiding behin
Sierra’s POVI wrapped my arms around Jordan when balance abandoned him and he walked with me like an old man slowly finding his step. He had just been through a serious coma, and I knew he needed time to get his strength back. His body had not fully recovered, but his spirit, his fighting spirit, was as full as a young man's spirit should be. Every step we took together led us onto shaky ground, but I was unwilling to drop the thread. I wasn’t about to let anything or anyone pull him away from me again. As I led him down the sterile corridor, I kept looking back at him, asking him over and over if he was in pain. "How do you feel? Is anything bothering you? Does anywhere hurt?”We had to put up a brave front, of course, but Jordan shot me a cheeky smile with twinkling eyes that had mischief reflected in them, even with that happening.“You’re babying me too much, Sierra. I'm fine," he pouted back with love in his eyes.I couldn’t help but chuckle, though every fibre of my being wa