The Trap

Muna Romano glanced at her watch for the third time in five minutes. 9:47 PM. The Slemz were late, and in her world, being late meant either an insult or a death trap. Neither was a good sign.

Maybe we should get the fuck out of here,

Doll.” Marco, her most trusted soldier, shifted uneasily beside the black Escalade. His hand rested close to the gun under his jacket, dark eyes sweeping the empty warehouse district. “This whole thing feels wrong.”

Muna adjusted the silk scarf at her neck, hiding the rough scar along her collarbone,a cruel reminder of the night she found her father shaking on the study floor, poison tearing through his body while blood foamed from his mouth. At twenty-six, she trusted her instincts more than anyone, and right now they screamed nothing but death. But the Romano family was bleeding money and men like an open wound. Without this Russian deal,they will be buried in shallow graves by Christmas.”

Five more minutes,” she said, her voice firm. “We need their routes. Without the Slemz, the pipeline dries up, and so do we

The warehouse stood like a giant tomb, its broken windows staring like empty eyes. This part of the city was filled with abandoned factories and lost dreams a perfect place for dirty deals that usually ended in blood.”

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: Warehouse 47. Come alone.

“Fuck that noise, Tony spat when she showed him. “Boss, this smells like a setup.”

“But Muna was already walking toward the warehouse, her high heels tapping against the cracked ground like gunshots. She’d worn the blood-red soles deliberately,letting the Slemz see she wasn’t afraid to wade through carnage.

““Stay with the fucking car,” she ordered. “Keep the engine running. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, call my uncle and burn this place to the ground.”

“The warehouse door creaked open, the sound rolling through the vast space like a cry from the dead. Dim yellow lights flickered over the blood-stained floor, leaving the rest swallowed in darkness.”

Where the fuck are you?” Her voice cut through the silence. “We had a goddamn deal.”

Nothing answered but the kind of quiet that preceded violence.

Then she heard it. The soft scrape of expensive leather on concrete. From behind.

Muna spun around as the warehouse door slammed shut like a coffin closing. Metal locks snapped into place. She was trapped like a rat waiting to be killed.

“Hello, Muna.”

The voice emerged from shadows like smoke from hell,rich, dark, absolutely fucking lethal. A voice she knew better than her own screams. A voice that had once whispered promises of forever and now delivered nightmares soaked in blood.

Felix Castelli stepped into the light like death incarnate.

Five years of war had shaped him into something both handsome and dangerous. At twenty eight, he ruled an empire built on the fall of his enemies, with drugs moving through every corner of New York,from uptown clubs to the dark alleys downtown

Including the bones of her family.

“Surprise my lady ”he said smoothly, hands clasped behind his back like a predator savoring the kill. “Miss me?”

Muna’s hand drifted toward her thigh, toward the pistol hidden beneath silk, but froze when red laser dots lit up her chest. Snipers. Ghosts in the dark. A single twitch, and they’d tear her apart.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that,” Felix said, stepping closer, a cruel laugh escaping him. “My men’s fingers are itching tonight. One wrong move and you’ll be full of holes.”

She forced a sharp smile, her heart pounding like a trapped animal. “Felix, I’d say it’s good to see you””but I’d rather watch you burn.

His laugh was smooth and deadly. ‘Still got that dangerous tongue. I’ve always liked that about you

“Did you? Because your love usually comes with a body count.”

“Only for those dumb enough to cross me.” He circled her like a shark smelling blood, close enough she could feel his presence. “Tell me, my lady, how’s business? I hear you’re losing money and men faster than a wounded pig bleeds.”

The laser sights tracked her every breath. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Three major shipments stolen. Half your men switching sides. Your suppliers are scared stiff.” Felix smiled, sharp and deadly. “Face it, my lady, you’re screwed. And not in a good way.”

“And you think kidnapping me changes the game?”

“Kidnapping?” Felix looked insulted. “I prefer hostile takeover.”

Gunfire broke out outside like fireworks from hell. The sharp bursts mixed with screams her loyal men fighting their last fight

“Marco!” Muna lunged toward the door, but Felix grabbed her wrist like steel.

“They’re already bleeding out on the asphalt,” he said calmly. “My men don’t leave survivors.

Rage filled her like hot metal, burning away her fear. She slammed her knee into him with all her strength, but he blocked it easily. The bastard had always been faster.

“Get your fucking hands off me, you psychotic piece of shit!”

“Language,my lady . That’s no way for a bride to speak to her groom.”

The words hit her like a brick. “What the hell did you just say?

Felix grinned, sharp and dangerous. “Congratulations, Muna. You’re getting married. To me. Tomorrow night

“Over my dead fucking body.”

“That can be arranged.” He pulled out his phone, showing her a photo that froze her blood. Her mother, Isabella, sitting in a luxurious prison cell. Alive, but captive. “Mama sends her love. She’s thrilled about the wedding.”

“You sick bastard. If you ever hurt her or lay a finger on her, your head will be mine.

“phone. “Here’s the deal, my lady. You marry me tomorrow. Smile for the cameras. Play the loving bride. In return, your mother stays alive, what’s left of your weak family joins my empire instead of ending up in the water, and you live in comfort. Anyway, our fathers wanted us to be together,” he said, bursting out laughing coldly. “So here we are, my lady.”

“As your prisoner.”

“As my wife. There’s a fucking difference.”

Muna stared at him, searching for any trace of the boy she’d once known. The Felix who’d taught her to pick locks and steal kisses in darkened hallways. But that boy had been murdered with their fathers, leaving this beautiful, terrifying stranger.

“Why?” The word escaped as barely a whisper. “Why not just put a bullet in my brain?”

Something flickered behind his eyes,pain, regret, maybe love twisted beyond recognition. But it vanished faster than blood soaking concrete.

“Because killing you would be mercy,” he said, voice soft as a blade between ribs. “And mercy is something I stopped offering long ago. Besides, our families were supposed to be united once. Call this fulfilling destiny.”

“This isn’t destiny, you psychotic fuck. This is revenge.”

Why can’t it be both?” He let go of her wrist, knowing she was trapped. “Think about it, Muna. Your family’s finished either way. Watch them die, or save them by joining me. The Romano name ends tonight the only question is wedding dress or coffin.

The warehouse spun around her. Five years of blood and betrayal, and it came down to this. Marry the monster or watch everyone burn.

“And if I tell you to go fuck yourself?”

Felix’s smile could freeze hell. “Then tomorrow’s headlines feature a tragic house fire at the Romano compound. Electrical fault. No survivors. Not even the goldfish.”

Muna closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her family’s survival pressing down on her. When she opened them, Felix was watching, something like sympathy in his eyes.

“Tick tock, my lady. I’ve got a war to run

Outside, the gunfire had stopped. A strange, heavy silence settled over the streets.

“Fine,” she said, the word bitter and heavy. “I’ll marry you, you sick bastard.”

“Good choice.” Felix’s smile hit her like a knife. “Vincent will take you to your new home. Very comfortable, very secure. Think luxury prison with better sheets.”

“How thoughtful,” she said, bitterly.

“I can be thoughtful when I want.” He motioned to the soldiers appearing from the shadows like demons. “And Muna? Don’t even think about running. I own this city now every street, every alley. Step out of line, and your mother feels the fire.”

Vincent Torrino stepped forward, his expensive coat sharp and cold. His eyes were empty. “Mrs. Castelli. Time to go.”

Mrs. Castelli. The name burned her like hot iron.

As they led her to the limousine, Muna caught one last look at Felix, standing in the doorway like a dark king watching his kingdom.

“Sweet dreams, wife,” he said, his voice carrying threats worse than death. “Tomorrow will be a very long day.”

The limousine door slammed shut. Muna Romano,soon to be Muna Castelli,looked out at the city and realized she had just signed a contract written in blood.

The war between their families was about to become personal, brutal, and inescapable.