I follow Dmitri outside the hotel building we are staying at, and I walk straight to the driver's door. Amani lowers his window in the blacked-out SUV, with his gaze still transfixed on something straight ahead of him. “You cannot come with us, Amani. You need to pack your things and book the next flight out of here.” I tell him in a hushed tone that is saturated with gratitude. “This is not your fight, and I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to you while we are in a foreign country.” He slowly turns his head to look at me, his eyes shielding the true emotions that thrum through his veins. “I can't leave, not now,” He replies in a low, baritone voice. “It seems that this is my fight too, and I haven't been as forthcoming about the truth as I should have been.” I take a step back, pulling my fur coat tightly around my body. “He will explain when we return, printsessa,” Dmitri growls as he joins my side. I stare at Amani, lost in the depths of his irises that hold secre

Amanis’ Point Of View:When I see a glimmer in the stillness of the night, I immediately raise my head and glare in the rearview mirror. I shift my body, turn around to look out the back window of the vehicle, and duck as a single shot pierces the air.“Merda! [shit!]” I grunt, turning around to face the front of the vehicle.Turning the engine on, I beep the horn, warning Zeynep that we are no longer alone. Planting my foot down on the accelerator, the tires spin across the gravel before the car lurches forward. I look into the rearview mirror through the cloud of dust I’ve just created and pray like fuck that they heard the horn.Speeding through the abandoned car park, I take a left, then make a sharp right down a narrow alleyway only to come to a standstill when a black van is heading straight towards me. Swallowing thickly, my hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and I straighten in my seat.The instant the van stops, I’m going to slam my foot on the accelerator and pray like

Inhale.Exhale.Don’t lose your shit.Repeat.The inside of my throat burns. The decomposing of nausea swirls in my stomach, no matter how hard I try to push through it; to fight it.In some weird sense of thinking, I’m starting to believe that death is the only way out of here. The devil himself refuses to let me go any other way. It’s like a dark cloud is always hovering over my head and the lives of those I care about have been thrust into a cursed game of Russian Roulette.You never know who will be plucked off next.But I fight the fear.I fight the onslaught of panic dispersing across my chest like an inferno and do my best to stay strong; to be the fighter I was born to be.And it has suddenly dawned on me that the underworld is like a battlefield. It doesn’t matter how many fights you win. It’s winning the war that really counts and right now, Sandro has won many, many fights.Before my birth, this war had already been raging. It will last forever. Not until a small silver cap

My heart aches as a dull pain splinters across my chest while Leo continues to meet my gaze.Never in my brightest days did I imagine that I would see Leo standing by his father's side, and now that I do, the thought of trusting him makes me sick.“Are you going to kill me?” I courageously ask, suppressing my fear back into the darkness where it belongs.Drip. Drip. Fucking Drip…Leo’s brows furrow for a second and an unreadable expression masks his features, but it disappears just as quickly as it appeared.“Kill you?” He grounds out, straightening with a cruel hiss departing between his lips.His arm is still in a sling and his face still looks like a messy canvas with different coloured bruising splattered along his jawline.“Yeah… Are you going to kill me?”Slowly shaking his head, Leo sighs roughly and combs his fingers through his hair. “We aren’t going to kill you, Zeynep.” His voice is smooth and gentle. “You are aware that my father wishes to marry you to completely corrupt

I stand outside on the balcony of my hotel room, which overlooks the small city with bright lights illuminating the sidewalks. The cool early morning breeze gently sweeps across my face, cooling my flushed cheeks and my boiling blood thrumming through my veins.Dipping my head, I look down at my hands which are no longer covered in Giovanni's blood. Flashes of me slitting his throat wash over me, making me dizzy, fuelled by sin. Sucking in a razor-sharp breath, I focus on the sky's blanket of beauty that is staring me right in the face. There is no point in me wasting what little energy I consume, bemoaning crimes I've committed, or wasting precious time by expressing regret. It is done.It's over.The streets run red with the blood of our enemies and vengeance has been achieved.I’m safe.No one is coming to hurt me any time soon.I can finally breathe and not feel like I’m choking on my anxiety. My fingers grip the steel fence, turning my knuckles a ghastly shade of white, as