Chapter two.I woke to the beeping of machines and the sterile smell of disinfectant. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. Tubes ran into my arms, pumping blood into my veins as if to keep me tethered to this world.I blinked up at the ceiling, struggling to piece together where I was and how I’d gotten here. The last thing I remembered was the sound of Eve’s scream, the thugs closing in, and then—darkness.The room was silent. Not my apartment, that much was obvious. I tried sitting up, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my ribs, forcing me back down with a groan. Broken ribs, probably. Fantastic.Before I could process further, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, clipboard in hand and a polite smile on her face. She had that practiced air of someone who’d seen worse but wasn’t about to let me know it.“Well, look who’s awake,” she said, walking closer. “How are we feeling this morning? Still in one piece, I hope?”“Where am I

Chapter FourIt’s been over a week since I got back to work, and though my wounds are healing fast, they’re not fully gone. People at the office keep whispering, probably thinking I’d quit after the money Eve gave me. But quitting? That’s not me. I like the routine, even if the job is monotonous. Flashing money around doesn’t appeal to me—it’s stability I care about.When I got home that evening, I handed the takeaway bag to Timmy, the janitor. He smiled as he took it, his gratitude always genuine.“Thanks, sir,” he said, his face lighting up.“No problem, Timmy. You deserve it,” I replied, starting to head upstairs.“Uh, sir?” Timmy called, his voice more cautious now.I stopped, turning back to him. “What’s up?”“A lady came by earlier,” he said, scratching the back of his head.“A lady?” I repeated, frowning. “What did she want?”“She brought some packages—several boxes—and asked me to give you this.” He held out a black envelope.I took it, my fingers brushing against the smooth,

Chapter SixInside the restaurant, the sound of heavy raindrops hitting the glass walls created a somber ambiance, a stark contrast to the emotional storm brewing within Eve. She spoke, her voice laced with pain, as Auston listened intently, his eyes locked onto hers."I lost my mom in a fire when I was nine," Eve said, her voice cracking. "She saved me, but...she didn't make it out herself." Tears welled up in her eyes. "My dad remarried, but my stepmom...she was cruel, still is though, Always taunting me, making me feel worthless. I turned to drugs, to men, to sex...anything to escape the pain."Auston's gaze never wavered, his expression softening with empathy. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had judged her harshly earlier."My brother's sick, Auston," Eve continued her voice barely above a whisper. "Cancer, the doctor confirmed he has two more years on his clock. And I...I was with that guy, the one you saw me with because my stepmom pushed us together. But I don't love him. I

Chapter Eight. When I pulled up to Aliyah’s place, I could already feel the difference. Her place was... inviting, almost annoyingly so. The kind of space that didn’t try too hard but still made you feel like you didn’t deserve to be there. It wasn’t big—just a modest little apartment—but it had that air of control, like she had her life stitched together better than anyone I knew. Bigger than the sorry excuse for a place I called home, that’s for sure.I stepped inside, dropping my bag by the door with a thud, and scanned the room. Aliyah’s voice floated from the back, sharp and familiar. "Lock the door behind you, Auston. I don’t need your mess following you in here."She emerged a second later, wiping her hands on her sweatpants like she’d just been elbow-deep in something—maybe work, maybe dinner, maybe a murder for all I knew. She looked at me, one eyebrow arching up like she could already tell I’d screwed up. Her arms crossed, a little shift in her stance that screamed impatien

Marcus’s POVThe room was my kind of quiet—dim light, muffled voices, and the comforting scratch of cash being counted. My arms were folded on the scarred table, head resting like I was out cold, but I wasn’t. Not really. The cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, curling lazily under the single flickering bulb. It didn’t bother me anymore. Hell, I probably needed it to feel normal at this point… yes I meant the smell. Doors creaked open at intervals, slamming shut almost instantly. Boots scuffed the floor. The rhythm of the operation was steady, like clockwork. Bags of money in, shipments out, no hiccups. Everything was running smoothly tonight. Or so I thought.Then I felt it—a hand on my shoulder. Tapping me relentlessly. “Boss.”I groaned, dragging my head up slow, like the weight of the world was tied to my neck. My eyes locked on Johnny, his face pale, sweat trickling down his temple.Johnny’s just a little man out here running risky errands, and every now and then, they thr