Ella stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection staring back at her as though it was someone else. The woman in the mirror had been shaped by the choices she'd made, but those choices were becoming harder to reconcile with the person she had once been. She ran her fingers through her hair, staring at the dark circles under her eyes. Sleep had become a luxury she couldn't afford, not with everything hanging in the balance.
Her phone buzzed again on the vanity, snapping her out of her trance. She didn't have to check the screen to know who it was.
**Marco.**
It had been a few days since their last encounter at the warehouse, and things between them had only grown more tense. The question of loyalty lingered between them, unspoken but ever-present. She had kept her distance since then, trying to regain some semblance of control over her emotions.
With a deep breath, Ella picked up the phone and read the message.
**"Meet me at the club tonight. I have a job for you."**
A job. The words felt like a threat, a reminder that she had no room to breathe, no time to reconsider her position. Marco was always one step ahead, always testing her loyalty, and Ella was beginning to fear the day he would push her too far.
She typed a quick response, keeping her tone neutral.
**"I'll be there."**
---
The club was the same as it always was—dark, moody, and filled with the hum of people who had too much money and too many secrets. Marco owned the place, and it was one of his many businesses that served as a front for his criminal empire.
As Ella stepped inside, the bass of the music vibrated in her chest. The club was packed, but she knew exactly where to find Marco. She made her way through the crowd, past the sleek, stylish people who barely gave her a second glance, until she reached the VIP section at the back. Marco was sitting in his usual spot, a bottle of whiskey in front of him, his eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for his next target.
When he saw her, he didn't smile. There was no warmth in his gaze, only the cold calculation that always lay beneath the surface.
"Ella," he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that told her he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "Sit."
She obeyed without hesitation, sitting across from him, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her, searching for something—something she wasn't sure she had anymore.
"You've been avoiding me," Marco said, his voice low, almost conversational, though the words were anything but casual. "I don't like being ignored."
"I haven't been avoiding you," she replied, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her stomach. "I've been busy."
"Busy?" He leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. "Busy with Ivanov, I presume? You're getting too close to him, Ella."
Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Viktor's name. She had been careful not to let Marco see just how deeply she was becoming entangled in Viktor's world, but she knew Marco had his sources.
"I'm doing what you asked," she said, trying to sound confident. "I'm gathering information. I'm getting closer to him."
"Closer?" Marco's smile was thin, a hint of something darker playing at the edges of his lips. "You're getting far too close for my liking. I don't need you falling for his charm, Ella."
Ella froze. She hadn't realized until that moment how much Viktor's presence in her life had affected her. He wasn't just a target anymore, a pawn in Marco's game. She had spent hours with him, talking about things that had nothing to do with business—things that made her laugh, things that made her angry, things that made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I'm not falling for him," she said quickly, trying to push the thought away. "I'm focused on the job."
Marco's eyes never left hers, studying her with that sharp, unrelenting gaze. "Good. Because if you are—" He paused, letting the threat hang in the air between them. "I won't hesitate to take care of it."
Ella swallowed hard, her throat dry. The way Marco spoke—so casually, so coldly—made her wonder how much of him was still human, and how much of him was just the monster he had become. But she couldn't afford to question that now. She had to stay focused.
"So, what's the job?" she asked, her voice calm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
Marco took a slow sip from his whiskey glass before answering. "You're going to meet with Viktor tomorrow night. You're going to make sure he trusts you completely. And then you're going to give me everything he's got."
Ella felt a chill run down her spine. She had been prepared for this, in a way. Marco had been patient with her, but now it was time for her to prove herself. She had no choice but to do what he asked.
But a part of her—the part that had been drawn to Viktor's strength and intelligence—rebelled against the idea of betraying him. She couldn't do it. She couldn't destroy the fragile connection they had.
"Marco…" she began, her voice trembling ever so slightly, "I can't just… I can't destroy him. He's not like the others."
For a moment, Marco said nothing. His eyes bored into hers, and Ella couldn't tell if he was trying to gauge her sincerity or if he was just waiting for her to break. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and dangerous.
"You'll do what I say, Ella. You don't get to make choices here. You don't get to have feelings. Not in this world. Understand?"
Ella felt her chest tighten. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew Marco was right. In his world, there was no room for weakness. There was no room for hesitation.
"I understand," she said, the words coming out like they were being forced from her.
Marco nodded, his lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Good. You're a smart girl, Ella. I'll expect you to handle this like a professional. And remember…" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you fail me, there will be consequences."
Ella nodded, though her stomach churned. She couldn't afford to fail. Not now. Not when everything was on the line.
She stood up from the table, ready to leave, but Marco's voice stopped her.
"Ella," he called, his tone softening just a fraction. "One more thing."
She turned to face him.
"If you ever think of crossing me, remember this: I'm always watching. Always."
The weight of his words hung in the air as she turned and walked out of the club, her mind racing.
---
**The Next Night**
Ella met Viktor in a quiet, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of town. She had chosen the location carefully, far enough from the prying eyes of Marco's associates but still close enough for convenience. Viktor was already seated at their usual corner booth when she arrived, a glass of scotch in his hand.
He looked up as she approached, his expression unreadable. There was something about Viktor that made her uneasy—something that drew her in and terrified her all at once.
"Ella," he said, his voice smooth and low. "I wasn't sure if you were coming tonight."
"I wouldn't miss it," she replied, slipping into the booth across from him. The scent of his cologne hit her immediately—woodsy and strong, a scent that seemed to linger in her thoughts.
"You've been avoiding me," Viktor said, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I've been busy," she said, offering a casual smile.
Viktor leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "With Marco?"
Ella's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
"I know how these things work," he said quietly. "I know what's going on between you two. You're playing a dangerous game, Ella."
For a moment, she didn't know how to respond. Her gut told her that Viktor knew more than he was letting on, but how much did he actually know? And how much was he willing to tolerate?
"I'm not playing any game," she said carefully, her voice steady. "I'm just trying to get by."
Viktor studied her for a long time, his gaze almost piercing. Then, without a word, he reached across the table and took her hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, and she felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine.
"You're not just getting by, Ella," Viktor said softly. "You're surviving. But I can offer you more than that."
Ella's breath caught in her throat. She had heard those words before, but hearing them from Viktor felt different. Dangerous, even.
"What are you offering?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Viktor smiled, the expression both seductive and dangerous. "Freedom."
Ella felt her heart race. Freedom. It was all she ever wanted, but it seemed so far out of reach.
But then, she remembered Marco's cold, threatening words—and the consequences of betraying him. And she realized that no matter how much she wanted freedom, it would come at a price.
A price she might not be willing to pay.