Alle Kapitel von Good Girl Gone Bad: Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 30

SAOIRSE. The room was a den of predators — teeth hidden behind tailored suits, hunger masked as patience. No one moved, yet the air pulsed with a silent war for control. I stood in the room, tray balanced on my palm, my heart pounding in my chest. The air was thick, choking with cigar smoke and the sharp bite of whiskey. Zeus sat at the head of the long table, his broad shoulders squared, his face a mask of stone. Knight and Haizer standing on his sides, their eyes hard, bodies tense like coiled springs. Across from them, the Obsidian front men glared back, their gazes like knives, slicing through the space between us. Lennox wasn't there, but his absence felt like a threat hanging over everything. I moved silently, pouring drinks, my steps careful, measured. This wasn't just a meeting. It was a war of words, a silent battle of wills. My hands didn't shake, not yet. I kept my face blank, my eyes down, playing the part of the invisible servant. But inside, every nerve screamed at me to

SAOIRSE. A predator recognizes other predators not by violence, but by the quiet threat of power — in their world, that’s a declaration of war and blood follows soon after. I watched the man slip out of the room, and that's when it hit me. I had to tell Zeus about Aofie. The words I'd been holding back bubbled up, like a secret that could cut if I didn't let it out. “Zeus,” I called out, forcing the words out before I could second-guess them. “I talked to Aofie the other day and he told me you used to visit him at that rundown hospital. Before you transferred him to Avante..." He set his glass down, the ice rattling as he turned his full attention to me. “Yes?” “However, he mentioned another man," I pressed, leaning closer, “He said, someone visited him before you did that night. Aofie said this guy came around, asking questions, asking about...me. Did you know about him? Is that why you moved Aofie? To get him away from whoever that was?" His eyes darkened, the muscle in his che

SAOIRSE. I kept my head down, letting the crowd swallow me whole. “You know what. They were an enigma. What was their name again? The couple who were murdered years ago?” A voice murmured nearby, low and conspiratorial, like it was sharing a dirty little secret. I froze, my champagne flute hovering midway to my lips, the bubbles fizzing against the glass. Turning just enough, I caught the tail end of the exchange between two men I didn't recognize. They leaned against a marble pillar, their faces half-hidden in the chandelier's gilded glow, voices blending with the orchestra's swell. “Yeah, Elena and Rowan Vincenzo were deep in Obsidian, especially Rowan,” the other one replied, his tone casual, like they were talking about the weather. “He was a member for years, and stood right next to Lennox himself during some of those early deals. Well, hell of a thing, what happened to him.” My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat drowning out the music. Obsidian. The name

SAOIRSE. “Everything? Quite demanding but as they said, ask and you shall receive. I obey when commanded.” Massimo's laugh came through the line, low and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. “Let's start with Zeus.” My breath caught in my throat. I pressed the phone harder against my ear, my free hand clutching the bedsheets. “What do you mean?” “I mean he's been lying to you from the start. He knew you're a Vincenzo, he lured you into his world. About why you're really here with him.” His voice dropped, turning serious, almost urgent. “He pulled you into his world to protect his own secrets, not you.” I shook my head, even though he couldn't see. “You're lying. Zeus wouldn't—” “What? Tell you the truth? Ask yourself why he never explains anything fully. Why he watches you like you're a possession he can't lose.” Massimo paused, and I heard him exhale, like he was choosing his next words carefully. “I have proof. Documents. Recordings. If you want them, meet me.” My

Lennox stared at the dead rat rotting in that box on his doorstep, its glassy eyes accusing him like a living target begging for mercy.The stench hit him first, sharp and foul, as he kicked open the door to his office. The red box sat there, no note, no signature — just a dead rat with its throat slit, blood crusted around the wound.He slammed the door shut behind him, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor. Questions began forming in his mind. Who the fuck would do this? Who in their right mind would challenge him like this?A laugh bubbled up from his throat, low and menacing, echoing off the walls of his office. It started as a chuckle, but it grew.“You think you can threaten me?” he muttered to the empty room. “You think a dead rat is going to scare me off? You're fucking delusional.”It wasn't funny, not really, but the absurdity of it all — the sheer stupidity — made him want to tear something apart. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as he paced the room.The ra