Sinscared Series #1
A forbidden love.
A betrayal lurking in the shadows.
And a world built on blood, deception, and vengeance.
In the ruthless world of the Italian mafia, loyalty is power, betrayal is death, and love... is a dangerous game.
Serafi...
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A Week Later
The club was alive with the rhythmic pulse of music and flashing lights, but inside my office, the atmosphere was anything but celebratory. It felt like a tomb.
The room was dimly lit, with only a single desk lamp casting a harsh glare over the papers and maps strewn across the desk.
Each document felt like a piece of the puzzle that refused to come together, no matter how hard I tried to force it.
I was seated behind the desk, my posture rigid, eyes scanning the documents with a predatory focus.
It was as though if I stared long enough, the truth would unravel itself.
But no matter how long I looked, it wasn't there.
The events of the past few days had left me seething with anger and an all-consuming thirst for vengeance.
Luca's death had shattered the last remnants of the calm façade I had spent years perfecting.
Now, all that remained was a raw, festering wound, and it was only a matter of time before I bled out.
His death wasn't just a loss.
It was a betrayal.
I could feel it in my bones.
Someone on our side had let this happen.
They had opened the door and allowed the Russians to strike us down.
And Luca... Luca had paid the ultimate price.
I clenched my fists at the memory of his face, lifeless and cold in my arms.
I had seen death before, caused it even, but Luca... he was supposed to be untouchable.
A part of me still refused to believe he was gone.
I could hear his voice sometimes—clear as day.
If I closed my eyes long enough, I could imagine he was still here, standing just behind me, about to say something to break the tension in the room.
But when I opened my eyes, the only thing that greeted me was the deafening silence and the hollow ache of absence.
Massimo, stood nearby, his demeanor as grave as ever.
At this moment, he was the only one I could trust.
If there was a traitor among us, they would wish they'd never been born by the time I was through with them.
"Here's what we know," he said, breaking the silence as he placed a folder in front of me. "The intel leak happened a few days before the attack. The Russians knew more than they should have."
I flipped through the folder, my hands steady but my insides a mess.
Anger, grief, and desperation churned together in a toxic storm.
