At once the soft lights of fairy lights hung over the balcony of Trisha’s apartment greeted the cold, inviting air as they rose above her little balcony. The mild notes of garlic and herbs squealed in the air as they shared their pasta night, joined by the hint of sweetness of the red wine pouring into the glasses. Max slid on the sofa with a comforting sigh.“So this, ” he said, glancing over the living room, then down at Trisha, “is just perfect. No fancy restaurants, no annoying eyes, just.... us.Trisha smiled, tugging at her heart. “I thought you’d like it. Sometimes the silence is what you need. ”She reached over to him across the coffee table, her fingers on the back of his hand. “Pretty rough week? ”A hand brushed her knuckles. “You don’t have a clue. But you coming here with you - it takes all the rest away. ” His eyes were so closed they constantly stole her attention."Good, " she said, leaning closer. "That's what I'd try to do. " She reached for her glass and took a slow

The sleek black sedan crawled slowly up the stairwell of the seemingly endless driveway, its wheels gently tapping on the gravel. Max, his face a tight concealer of anxiety, scooted to Trisha.“We are here, ” he said, with an air of half command, “this is the mansion. You'll be safe here. ”Trisha looked out the tinted window and her eyes bulged with amazement at the size of the estate. Iron gates and huge stone walls and an endless, beautifully groomed lawn stretching up toward a giant gothic-revival building: “Secure? Max, what is this place? And why do I need to be ‘safe? ’” Her voice was nearly as quiet as she could suppress.Max reached across the console, closing over her hand, his grip tightening. “Trisha, listen to me. What happened at your apartment, I don’t think it was random. These people, they're really bad. They know you're connected to me. ”'I pulled her hand away, her brow furrowed. 'Connected to you? Max, we 've been dating for months. What kind of 'connected' are we

The polished mahogany desk of Max’s office was, on the surface, a monument of order, but this night it was full of scattered files, coffee cups half filled, and bright monitors. Max leaning back in the leather chair, with a sigh. The attack on Trisha’s apartment, that sudden forced relocation, the questions that had been in his mind about Pedro Gonzalo and about the orphanage... were all tangled up in a mess that was trying to toss everything he had worked so hard to build. He picked up a photo frame and brushed his thumb over the faces of his family: his father, Tomas, Lena, Sarah. The ghost of smile touched his lips, then immediately replaced by a grim line.A sharp, insistent rap echoed on the heavy oak door.“Come in,” Max called, his voice tight.The window cracked just wide enough to let in Bucky’s head, his normally soft expression imprinted with urgency. “Max. Sorry to be so harsh, but this really couldn’t wait. We got something. ”Max raised his head, but just as he noticed B

The room was flooded with Lucky men as they surrounded every corner of the room. All with a gun in their hand. Bucky stood behind Max, who was draped in a black turtle neck and plaid trousers. Nathan froze the second he saw Max walk in. His grip on Lena's neck loosened, and he started stammering. "Mr. CEO... I mean, Mr. Lucky, I-I didn't realize—"Max raised a hand, cutting Nathan off. "Quite, you sorry excuse for a man. You couldn’t even think for a second that this could have been a trap." He glanced at Lena, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. Lena sighed and was relieved that the plan went smoothly.Lena's voice shook as she tried to speak, her heart racing. "You…you should have listened to me when you had the chance Nathan, now you are in for it."Max nodded, his face giving nothing away. "That right Lena, Looks like you've done well." He turned back to Nathan, his eyes narrowing. "Now, Mr. Nathan, I've got a proposition for you."Nathan swallowed hard, sweat starting t

The office was dimly lit, shadows creeping along the walls as the setting sun cast long beams through the narrow windows. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a familiar yet unsettling aroma for most who entered the mid-sized office building. This was the headquarters of the Japanese gang. In the office sits Kim, the leader of the Japanese gang, his personal bodyguard, and Mr. Anderson who was a prolific politician and the current mayor of the City. Kim's laughter echoed through the room, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Mr. Anderson's spine. He tried to mask his unease, but the sweat trickling down his temple betrayed him.Kim had entered a business deal with Mr. Anderson, so the mayor could use the Japanese gang as his goons to win elections or eliminate competitors, as long as he made sure to protect them from the Beckers Corporation, whose side of the city the Japanese gang were located in. The City was informally divided into two section controlled by the biggest m