Marco could not believe his eyes as his ears seemed to recollect the sound of those tyres from the far parked ahead when they rushed towards him. He had been this close to finality and he had not been prepared.Marco crouched on the cold pavement. His palms were raw from his roll to safety, his breathing ragged as he steadied himself on one knee. Slowly, he rose from the ground, brushing the dust from his trousers, his gaze fixed on the figure standing a few feet away.Stefano had stepped out of the car with a predator’s calmness, his expression unreadable at first. He looked really good for someone who has been in hiding making Marco wonder if indeed there has been a hunt for him. Compared to the fugitive, he himself looked like the world was against his breathing.Stefano hesitated studying him then, a smile curled across his lips, slow and deliberate, the kind of smile that carried more threat than comfort. It was that smile that played across Scar’s lips when he pushed his brothe

Marco drove slowly through the glittering lights of the night city, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The faint hum of the engine was the only sound keeping him company as he pulled into the big parking space of the Empire Fortuna Casino. The building loomed ahead of him like a palace of sin, its golden lights spilling from its entrance, drawing in patrons with promises of wealth, pleasure, and ruin.He parked and stepped out, adjusting his jacket. For a brief second, he hesitated at the entrance, inhaling deeply, trying to steady the unease that lingered in his chest. He told himself this was work, nothing more. He was here because he had to be, not because he wanted to blend into the same world that had already chewed and spat him out as the Morrisons had.Just as he was about to stride forward, a familiar burst of laughter caught his ear. He turned, eyes narrowing slightly. There, not far from the steps, stood Sal, his broad figure unmistakable even in the crowd. And be

Rosa looked at her son with a hint of silent confusion, her brows drawn together as if trying to understand something only he could see. The light from the hospital fell across Marco’s face, painting him in shades of tiredness and stubbornness. At least that was what her mother's gaze could see at the moment. She sighed softly and spoke, her voice trembling but firm.“Marco, what exactly is in that pendant that makes it so important?”Marco smiled faintly, his lips smiled but his eyes looked very distant. “The main thing I can say right now, Mama... is that it’s important to me.”She gave him that familiar stare; the kind that had once made him confess every lie as a little boy. Something one could have termed a mother's gaze. “Don’t give me riddles, Marco. I am your mother. Just tell me one truth. Only one.”He turned his gaze to her, his eyes soft with guilt and affection. “Ask me anything, Mama. I’ll tell you the truth.”Rosa folded her hands on her lap and leaned closer. “Swear to

Marco could not believe Antonio right now. Seemed as if the ancestor was doing too much right now and should really be considering taking a theatre career in the spirit world or wherever it was that he was contacting him from.Rallying women?Seriously?He tried hard not to laugh but a dry sound escaped his throat. Isabella wiped her eyes with the back of her palm and sat up straighter. “What’s so funny?” she asked, trying to sound serious as she definitely was upset right now.Marco’s chest tightened around the bandages and the injury, but he laughed anyway, softer this time. His own attempt at trying to make light of everything and reassure her that he was not laughing at her crying or crazy. To him, Isabella sported hints of her father's temper and one thing about Sal, he was a proud man who wore his arrogance on sleeves openly.“Nothing,” he said. “Just that I remembered something stupid. Don’t worry about it.”She nodded, mopping at her cheeks vigorously and even straightened h