LUCIANO POV

The room stank of gunpowder, sweat, and silence.

My men stood frozen in a half-moon arc, shadows stretching long across the steel floor of the underground warehouse. All glass and power, the meeting room behind me still shimmered from the heat of the confrontation or perhaps, the kiss with Daisy. She left like she regretted it for a moment. But now, I stood in the open space of the training floor, my blood boiling, the echo of her accusations still ringing in my ears.

Hardin stood three paces away, his mouth tight, jaw ticking. I’d seen that expression before—defiance thinly veiled as obedience. Only this time, he’d crossed a line he could never uncross.

“You went after her,” I said, voice low and cold, the kind of cold that creeps beneath the skin. “Without my order.”

“She was....” he began, but I raised a hand.

“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want your tongue nailed to the floor.”

A tremor passed through the men. All eyes dropped.

Hardin’s fists balled. His face twitched. “She’s dangerous. She’s not one of us. She’s—”

“She’s mine.” The words snapped from my mouth before I could filter them.

Silence.

A deeper kind of silence. Not just stillness—but fear.

I stepped forward. One step. Two. Until I was right in front of him. He didn’t move. I respected him once for that kind of grit. But now? Now it felt like disrespect.

“She’s mine,” I said again, softer now, deadlier. “And you touched what’s mine. You acted like a fucking animal behind my back."

His chest heaved.

I pulled the gun from my belt, flicked the safety off. Pressed the barrel to his forehead.

The gasp behind me was collective. My men were used to blood. But not this kind of betrayal. Not one from inside the circle.

I stared into his eyes. Black. Unrepentant. Rage simmering in both of us.

“You breathe without my permission again,” I murmured, “I’ll bury you in Harlem cement. I’ll piss on your grave before the cement dries. You hear me?”

His jaw flexed. He didn’t blink.

Click.

I pulled the trigger on an empty chamber..Hardin flinched.

I leaned in, close to his ear. “That wasn’t mercy. That was a warning.”

Then I turned and walked away, the tension in the room clinging to my back like a second skin.


HARDIN POV

I should’ve flinched. I should’ve begged.

I should’ve dropped to my knees and kissed his boots like every other bastard in this goddamn place.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stood there with the metallic scent of gun oil still pressed into my forehead, humiliation bleeding through my veins like acid.

The bastard played me. In front of everyone.

A trigger pull away from death. And he knew I wouldn’t break. That’s why he chose this. Not a beating. Not exile. He chose Humiliation.

Luciano Morreti didn’t just mark me tonight. He painted a fucking target on my back. A dog on a leash with its teeth yanked out.

And for what? For her.

That wild-eyed, sharp-tongued viper who walked into our world like it owed her something. That trash girl from nowhere with a bloody smile and death in her hands. Daisy Monroe. She did this.

I touched the side of my head, where the cold of his gun still lingered. My temple ached, not from pain—but from fury.

Let him protect her. Let him fall for her.

Because when he finally sees her for what she is—when she turns on him like she turns on everything—he’ll remember this night.

He’ll remember that I warned him. That I was right. And when she rips him apart?

I’ll be there to finish what she started.

Mark my words.

XAVIER POV

I have received every information I need from my men. Now I know the lady I am searching for. She is a dangerous one and I love them dangerous.

Daisy Monroe, one of the clean assassins in the streets of New York.

The envelope landed on my desk with the casual precision of bad news.

Manila. Unmarked. But inside—it burned.

Surveillance photos. I flipped through them with hands too calm to match the heat crawling up my neck. There she was. Daisy Monroe. Black jeans. White tank. Combat boots like she owned the goddamn asphalt she walked on. Hair in a wild knot. Eyes hidden behind dark shades. And standing beside her—Luciano. My brother. They weren’t touching. But they didn’t have to. The tension between them was a visible thread, thick and undeniable. He looked at her like she was fire and he didn’t mind burning alive.

I didn't see this coming. I perceived this lady was dangerous but I didn't know she worked under my worse enemy.

This makes it more interesting.

Jealousy didn’t just burn in my gut—it exploded. He had her?

Her? The girl who moaned into a hotel pillow. The one who clawed at my back like she was trying to tear herself free from the world.

I gripped the photo tighter, the glossy surface crinkling under my fingers.

Flash—her laughter danced through my skull. That throaty laugh at the bar when I teased her. The wildness in her eyes. Her mouth on mine. Her nails. Her voice. Her scent.

She was a drug. And I’d taken just one hit. One wasn’t enough. I wanted more and the fact that she was in Luciano's circle, makes me want to go for her.

I love her, yes, you heard me. I love this lady.

Well, that is left for you to believe.

I stood slowly, the photos clutched in one hand. My other fist clenched at my side.

She wasn’t some whore in my brother’s collection. She wasn’t another pawn in his filthy game.

She was mine. I have been with her once, but she is mine to keep, not his.

And now I would watch her. Study her. Feel her from a distance. I am going to monitor her life from the shadows. I am going to do it myself.

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DAISY POV

Something was off.

At first, I thought it was just my nerves—the aftershocks of Luciano’s warehouse, the way every man there watched me like I didn’t belong. Like I was a ticking bomb dressed in leather.

But this? This was different. I felt it on the back of my neck. That eerie prickle that slid under my skin like static electricity. The sense that.something—or someone—was watching me, Following me.

It started two days ago. The same black SUV idling across from the bodega. The same shadow lingering near the train station exit when I walked home. Coincidence? Maybe.

But I didn’t believe in coincidence. Not anymore.

I walked faster, down the alley behind Mr. Chao’s dry cleaners. I took turns I normally wouldn’t. Twists, loops. A trail I could track. Then I stopped suddenly.

Behind me—footsteps paused. I didn’t turn..I just smiled.

“You’re not as smooth as you think,” I whispered under my breath. “Try harder, creep.”

The air shifted. I walked on, eyes forward, heart steady, fingers twitching toward the blade hidden inside my bag.

I wouldn’t run. Let whoever it was keep watching. I’d give them a show. Because if they thought I was prey—they were about to find out how wrong they were.

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XAVIER POV


She knew.

I watched from the rooftop above the alley, one knee bent, camera zoomed tight to her face. That smirk. That knowing little smile.

It was the same look she gave me the night she let me ruin her on silk sheets.

And damn if it didn’t make my blood throb. She was dangerous. She knew it. And I wanted her even more.

“She’s mine,” I whispered, pressing the photo to my lips. “Luciano doesn’t even know what she is…”

But I do. And I won’t stop until she’s tangled in my sheets again—begging me not to let her go.

TO BE CONTINUED....

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