I recognized the voice before I even saw him.

Thomas Alison.

Max Nolan's right-hand man. The man who never hesitated to finish off anyone who betrayed the group. He came with several of his confidants.

I saw Wisley step back, his eyes widening, while Rachel let out a small squeal.

"Damn," Wisley whispered softly.

"I finally found you guys." Thomas' voice was deep and sharp, echoing through the rain. His eyes circled the three of us with a look full of contempt. "I thought who would be stupid enough to stab the group in the back, turns out it's you, Cassie... Wisley."

My heart pounded.

I should have known. Wisley had not only betrayed me, but also our group.

But why did Thomas mention my name too?

"Stop talking nonsense, Thomas."

Thomas just chuckled. "Nonsense?" He shifted his gaze to me for a moment, then back to Wisley. "I'll skip the pleasantries. Where is that document?"

I frowned. What documents?

Thomas grinned. "Don't play dumb. You two stole an important group document. And planned to hand it over to Frances, didn’t you?"

I was stunned. "What? I didn't-"

"Don't be stupid, Cassie." Wisley suddenly cut me off. "Thomas won't believe you."

I turned to him, looking for any other signs of a lie that I might not have caught yet.

But before I could digest the situation, Wisley glanced back at me and said, "I don't know. Maybe Cassie brought it."

I turned to him in shock. What?!

But I didn't have time to speak. Because the next second, everything happened so fast.

Wisley suddenly yanked Rachel behind him and shouted, "Rachel, run!"

Rachel ran, and I caught a glimpse of her triumphant grin before she vanished into the darkness.

Wisley chose to save Rachel and left me behind.

Anger and hurt burned in my chest, but before I could do anything, I could see Thomas' gaze on me turn darker, sharper. I could see the anger stored there.

"So this is your partnership? Max paired you two for this mission because he believed in your cooperation. Apparently, he wasn’t wrong—but he wasn’t right either," he said, his voice now lower-more dangerous.

I shook my head hard. "I don't know anything about that document! I-"

"Shut up."

I saw Thomas raise his gun again-and this time, the muzzle was pointed at me.

I froze before taking a step back.

"Thomas, I don't-"

BANG!

A muffled scream escaped my lips as searing pain shot through my arm. I turned around-blood was starting to seep from my shirt, mixing with the rainwater.

I'm... shot.

My heart is racing. I had to escape.

With all my might, I turned and ran, despite the pain radiating through my body.

I heard Thomas shouting orders for his men to chase me, but I didn't care.

Before, I didn't really care if I died at Wisley's hands; when he pointed a gun at me, I was too shocked and beaten to fight back.

But now I realize, this child in my belly is innocent.

I must protect it.

I must live.

***

Limping, I entered the apartment I used to call home. My breathing was heavy, blood flowed from the wound on my arm, and my body felt weaker and weaker.

I just hope they don't think they can find me here, because I need to get here first before going anywhere.

This place was already falling apart. I can smell the gun smoke and the trail of destruction Thomas' men left behind.

It seemed like they had come here first to search for the documents Thomas mentioned earlier, before finally tracking down Wisley and me when they didn’t find them.

I stepped into the bedroom. The first thing I saw was the wide-open wardrobe, its contents disheveled.

I didn't have much time to ponder. Quickly, I opened the drawer of the bedside table.

My fingers trembled as I found what I was looking for-a small black box hidden under a pile of old documents.

I opened it.

Two silver rings glittered inside.

I held my breath.

I remembered finding them in Wisley's drawer a few weeks ago. He always said that after the last mission, we would get out of this world and live a normal life.

I was stupid. I believed it. I had even imagined what life with Wisley would be like in a more peaceful world.

But now I realized, it was all a lie.

My hand trembled as I picked up the ring. Instead of throwing them away, I took a thin chain from another drawer and slipped both rings into it.

I stare at them for a moment before draping them around my neck.

I wasn't going to wear them on my fingers like I had imagined. No, I would keep them here-right on my chest, as a reminder.

Every second of Wisley's betrayal will always be with me.

I forced myself up, grabbed a small backpack, and stuffed it with a few essentials—a fake passport, emergency cash, and the small knife Wisley had given me.

I touched the handle, then without hesitation slipped it under my jacket.

Wisley probably thinks I'm dead. But I'm still here.

***

I ran through the dark alley behind a rundown hotel—a place where no one asked for my identity as long as I had the cash.

The receptionist only gave me a quick glance as I threw a few bills onto the counter.

The small room I was staying in only had a rickety bed, a sink with a cracked mirror, and an old wooden table.

I locked the door, took a deep breath, then sat on the floor with my back against the wall. My hands trembled as I pulled a small knife from my jacket.

I tried to tilt my body while raising my shot arm. My breath catches as the tip of the knife touches the skin, then stabs slowly.

Heat ran through my arm. I bit my lip, holding back a scream.

Flashes of the past hit me.

Back then, it was Wisley who sat beside me just like this. His hands worked swiftly as he pulled the bullet from my body, his eyes filled with worry.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," he said back then, his voice trembling. "I swear I'll kill the bastard who did this to you."

And he kept his promise. He killed for me.

Back then, that Wisley was mine.

But now, he accused me of treason. Accusing me of having an affair.

Now, he was the one who stuck the knife in my back.

I opened my eyes, coming back to reality. My hands trembled as I poured vodka over the wound.

The pain is excruciating.

My body trembled, my vision blurred, and before I knew it, everything went dark.

I could see Wisley looking at me with a small grin, holding out a piece of chocolate he had stolen from the convenience store.

"Don't tell me you still have doubts about us," he said, his eyes full of his signature confidence.

I accepted the chocolate, even though I knew we shouldn't be here. We had a darker world to live in-a world that demanded we trust no one.

But back then, I wanted to think that Wisley was an exception. That maybe, just maybe, with him I could find something more than just survival.

"If I leave," I whispered, "will you come with me?"

He didn't answer. Just smiled faintly before pulling me into his warm embrace.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that all of this was real.

However, the memories suddenly fell apart. His warm gaze turned cold. His smile faded away. In an instant, the sweet chocolate in my hand turned into a gun pressed against my forehead.

"Why, Wisley?"

I jerked awake.

Sunlight streamed through the small window of this cheap room, piercing my eyes.

Breathing heavily, cold sweat beaded down my neck. My chest rose and fell rapidly, as if my lungs refused to accept that I was still alive.

The pain in my arm was still there—sharp and piercing. My lips were dry, my body limp.

But that's not what's bothering my mind right now.

The damn dream!

I take a deep breath.

Hormones. It must just be the pregnancy hormones.

I'm not an emotional person. I've survived this far with a cool head, running away from their pursuit, suppressing all the fear and pain as if it wasn't mine.

But now?

I suddenly feel... homesick.

Stupid.

My hand touches my still-flat stomach. I couldn't feel him yet, but I knew he was there. The little heart that beats at the same time as mine.

Wisley's child.

Was I supposed to tell him?

I bite my lip. I knew this was a bad idea. Wisley wasn't someone I could trust. Not after everything that happened. Not after I saw him with Rachel.

But still...

I reach into the bag on the side of the bed, pulling out the disposable cell phone I keep for emergencies.

This wasn't an emergency. I knew that.

But why did I still turn it on?

My hands tremble as I type in a number I don't even need to see anymore. I could just throw this phone away right now, go back to my plan, disappear without a trace like I should. But my fingers are already moving faster than my brain.

The first ring.

I can turn it off now. I can still-

Second ring.

Shit.

Third ring.

I hold my breath.

Click.

Someone picked it up.

My words tumbled out without me being able to stop them. "Wisley, I'm carrying your child-"

The female laughter on the other side sounded light, almost playful, but enough to make my entire body tense up.

It wasn't Wisley who picked up the call.

"Cassie, dear... do you really want to tell him?"

Rachel.

My blood froze.

My hand gripped the phone tighter.

"Where's Wisley?" my voice was hoarse.

"Taking a shower," she replied casually. "Should I tell him to come out?"

I held my breath.

Rachel giggled. "I want to confess something to you. I actually never carried Wisley's child. I only said that so he wouldn't kill me. I loved him. I didn't want him to leave. And you know what's even funnier? We met a month ago... alcohol makes things easier, you know?"

I felt something hit my chest.

"You're lying."

Rachel giggled again. "The funny thing is, Wisley believed me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"He said you're not like me," Rachel sighed contentedly. "Not as pretty as me. Not as graceful as me. He could never even imagine you wearing a dress like me. Oh, and one more thing..."

I heard her sly laughter before she lowered her voice.

"I still remember the look on his face when he saw the photos of you and Max Nolan."

I gripped the phone tighter. "What...?"

Rachel laughed. "That photo was very real, Cassie. Do you know how easy it is to make a man like him believe?"

I hung up instantly, throwing the phone across the room as if it could erase the fact that I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

I shouldn't have called.

***

Three days and three nights I've been hiding in this hotel while waiting for my body condition to improve, but I need to see the situation outside.

Finally, tonight I forced myself out. I wore a black hoodie, hiding my face as far as possible.

As I walked through the city, slipping into dark alleys, something made me stop.

It was a flyer taped to the corner of a wall.

My blood froze.

My face.

Big and clear.

And next to it, Wisley's face.

"Fugitive," it said in large letters. "Dangerous. Report if you see them."

I bit my lip. No wonder the streets felt more dangerous tonight. Not just the police, but the underworld was after me.

Max Nolan has connections with the higher-ups. As long as I was a member of the group, the police would turn a blind eye to the crimes Nolan ordered.

But now? Nolan considers me a traitor. That means I'm not only being hunted by the law, but also by bounty hunters who want to extract a huge reward from Nolan.

They want my head. They want Wisley's too.

But I knew the difference.

They wanted Wisley alive.

They wanted me dead.

I took a deep breath, stroking my still flat stomach.

No one can catch me.

I must continue to survive.

But just as I turned into a dark alley to head for the secret locker storing my spare weapons, something else caught my eye-a group of men stood in the corner, talking in low tones.

Their gazes were directed at me, and then I realized something that made my heart beat faster.

They weren't just looking.

They recognized me.

Before I could react, a hand grabbed my arm from behind.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Look who's still breathing," the voice mocked.

I didn't recognize them. But I knew that they weren't Thomas's men, probably crazier people-bounty executors or bounty hunters.

"Max Nolan wants you taken dead or alive," one of them approached, the muzzle of a gun pointed at my forehead. "But if you resist, we can have some fun first, right?"

I didn't answer. I waited.

When he was close enough, I made my move.

My hand snatched the gun, twisting his wrist in the wrong direction. He screamed as he heard a crack. Quickly, I thrust the knife into his stomach, twisting roughly before pulling it out.

Blood spurted onto my face. He staggered, then fell.

"Damn it, she killed Hector," one of them hissed.

I didn't have time to process the incident when someone slammed into my stomach from the side.

Something worse happened.

Excruciating pain radiated through my body. I screamed.

Then, everything went dark.

But before I lost consciousness completely, I heard something.

"Are we taking him to Max Nolan?" someone asked.

"No," another voice replied.

I felt my hands being cuffed.

Then, the voice came again.

"Our mission isn’t just to capture her. Frances wants to make sure she loses the baby first."

My blood froze.

Rachel.

This was all her doing.

But before I could process everything, another voice spoke-colder, more menacing.

"She killed one of Nostra's men. Let's just turn her over to Stilliam."

I knew that name.

Anyone who worked in the underworld would know Stilliam's name.

I woke up not to pain, but to the sound of approaching footsteps—rhythmic, steady, and eerie.

I tried to move, but my body was restricted by the chains that bound my wrists and legs.

The sound grew closer, then the door opened with a bang, letting a sharp light hit my eyes.

I looked up, trying to focus on the figure that appeared in the doorway.

A man stood there, his body erect and his aura of power so strong it almost felt like physical pressure.

I knew who he was.

Stilliam Albert Nostra.

Compared to Thomas-no-not even compared to Max Nolan... this man was far more dangerous.

His name alone was enough to make anyone in the underworld tremble in fear. The leader of the Nostra family, who was said to have no qualms about taking out anyone who got in his way.

He was known not only as a mobster, but also a king who ruled the dark world with cruelty and deceit.

His sharp eyes looked at me with an unreadable expression.

"So, you killed Hector?" His voice was low and firm, as if the question was just a formality. "Cassie Moonstone. The traitor who managed to get everyone's attention."

He approached, his steps calm and powerful, as if this underworld belonged to him.

I tried to look at him, even though I was bound and full of wounds. Cold sweat ran down my forehead, but I tried not to show my fear.

If there's one thing I've learned from this world, it's to endure pretending not to be afraid of people who should be afraid of you.

But then I realized.

Something was wrong with my body.

My lower abdomen felt empty. Not just the pain of torture, but deeper than that-it was as if a part of me had simply disappeared.

My bound hands reflexively clenched into fists. Memories began to return like shards of glass piercing my mind.

Blood.

I remember the blood.

I remember the pain that radiated so violently before I lost consciousness.

I remember how I held my stomach, how fear wrapped my body as I knew something precious was being taken away from me.

I lost my child.

My chest tightened, as if my lungs refused to function. I wanted to scream, wanted to curse the world, wanted to let this grief out in any way.

But I couldn't.

I was still bound. Still in his presence.

Stilliam assessed me from top to bottom, like a predator observing its prey before tearing it apart.

"I didn't kill him on purpose," I said hoarsely, trying to defend myself.

Stilliam laughed softly, as if hearing an unfunny joke. "Then what makes you feel like someone worth living for?" he asked in a sharp tone.

I looked at him deeply. Horror began to creep into me.

"I was just defending myself from the person who tried to kill me. I can't just stand by when someone is ready to point a gun at me."

Stilliam looked at me, then smiled faintly-a smile that didn't make me feel safe. "You're interesting, Cassie Moonstone. Not many people can escape from the underworld with so many people wanting to kill you."

I swallowed.

Of all the things that happened, of all the losses I experienced, this is what he still cares about?

"I could kill you right now," he said, walking closer. "But I won't."

Then what will you do to me?

The question was stuck in my throat, but Stilliam had already answered it first.

"You have two choices, Cassie Moonstone," he said softly, but clearly. "Marry me... or die."

My blood almost froze when I heard those words.

I stared at the man I feared the most, hoping that I had just misheard. But no. His gaze remained cold, sharp, as if he had just offered a non-negotiable business deal.

I should have prepared myself mentally for the worst—torture, interrogation, even execution. But marriage?

I chuckled, bitterly, more to myself. "You're joking, right?"

Stilliam didn't answer right away. He simply crouched in front of me, his cold fingers outstretched, lifting my chin gently. The touch felt like another shackle on my body.

"I never joke," he said softly, almost a whisper.

My heart beat so fast that I feared he could hear it.

I could see his eyes more closely now-black, deep, mysterious. There was no sign of tenderness there. No hatred either. Just an attraction that made me feel even more trapped.

"I could kill you right now," he continued in a tone so calm it was as if he was discussing the weather. "But I won't."

I swallowed, trying to control my raging thoughts.

"Why?" I asked, trying to understand his game.

A faint smile was etched on his face. "Because I've been watching you for a long time, Cassie Moonstone."

I froze.

What do you mean?

Stilliam didn't answer directly. Instead, he stood up and walked around the chair I was tied to, like a tiger circling its prey.

"You caught my attention a long time ago," he finally said. "And now that you're here, I see this as an opportunity."

I felt as if I'd fallen into a trap I never even realized was there.

Marriage? To a man whose very name made the underworld tremble?

This wasn't a choice; this was an ultimatum.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and images of Wisley filled my head-his sweet promises, his soft words, then his betrayal.

I foolishly believed that he would marry me. But in the end, he went off with another woman, leaving me behind like trash that was no longer useful.

And now, another man offers marriage. Not with the promise of love. Not with happiness. But with threats.

I raised my face, looking at Stilliam with all the strength I had left in me.

"And if I refuse?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

Stilliam smiled, but that smile was anything but reassuring. "You know the answer, Cassie."

I bit my lip, trying to control the tremors in my body.

I lost my child.

I lost my future.

Now I have to lose my freedom too?

Do I really have a choice?