LOGINAdriano slowly lifted his boot, letting the blood drip off the leather onto the concrete as his stare swept across the rest. "Now," he whispered, a terrifying smile finally touching the corners of his lips, "Who else feels like telling me a story?" Morgan started sobbing violently. I shook my h
No, no! "I wasn't even there when they hurt the girl!" Cole yelled, "They brought her to me already bleeding! Brianna was the one who hit her in the head! She used a heavy wooden club from the garage! They carried her in here like a sack of rocks, and I was the one who washed the blood off her fac
Cole’s chest heaved, his eyes turned frantic, like a rat looking for a hole in the wall. "I know how Chicago works. You don't survive in this city by picking a fight with the Capones," he slowly shook his head, "I'm not suicidal." My stomach twisted. No. He was lying. I made a desperate sound
"Move!" Capone guards surged forward with frightening speed. Cole's men reached for their weapons but they never got the chance. One guard twisted a man's arm behind his back before he had even cleared his waistband. Another kicked a pistol across the concrete floor. Boots thundered in every dire
I looked at Cole again. He wasn't even watching us. He was checking his phone. Rage exploded inside me, "MMPH!" I lunged forward as far as the ropes allowed. "If she keeps doing that," he said calmly, "she'll reopen the wound." I wanted to claw his face apart. I wanted to scream. Instead, anoth
Gianna ━⊰ ❦ ⊱━ Pain. That was the first thing I felt. It was a deep, heavy ache that pulsed through the back of my head. It throbbed with every heartbeat, every breath, every tiny movement. A quiet whimper escaped me before I even opened my eyes. The world slowly came into focus. The ceiling a
The therapist waited. "She has green eyes. Statistically uncommon. Depending on the population you're looking at, somewhere around two percent of the world." His pen moved. "Her hair is brown but appears almost black in low lighting conditions. It's annoying because photographs never capture the
Raphael ━━ ⛓ ━━ The therapist's office was on the thirty-second floor. There were glass walls, expensive furniture and neutral colors. The kind of place designed to make people feel comfortable. The receptionist looked nervous when I stepped off the elevator. I walked past her desk and she immed
I opened three more files, then placed them side by side, "There." Raphael leaned forward, his shoulder nearly brushed mine, neither of us moved, neither of us acknowledged it. The room seemed to hold its breath, then I watched understanding slam into him. His eyes darkened and suddenly the frus
Waiting. For heartbreak. For regret. For grief. Nothing came. Only relief. And for the first time since his name had appeared on my screen... I smiled. ──━⊰ 𓆙 ⊱━── The office floor hummed around me. Monitors glowed from every direction. Lines of code scrolled endlessly across screens. Pho







