ManyWriters

"You're a weapon, Alessia. You're strong enough to survive this."
To save the family's cherished adopted daughter, Isabella, my fiancé Marco handed me over to our Russian rivals.
My own father, Don Falcone, saw my sacrifice as a small price for a truce.
My only hope was Luca, my childhood friend, who swore he'd bring me home.
He lied.
A week later, as I was being psychologically broken, I was forced to know a lavish party at the Falcone villa to celebrate Marco and Isabella’s engagement.
The Bratva leader saw it as an insult and left me to die in a fire.
But I was reborn from the ashes.
This time, when Marco knelt and begged me to go, I simply said, "Fine."
Now, five years later, Marco and Luca look at me with haunted eyes, begging for the girl I was.
"I’m not Alessia."
"And I’m already married."
My debt is paid.
Now, it's time to collect theirs.

Love Blooms From Embers

"I'm just having some fun. You've been a great deal of trouble, and I haven't even killed you. A little entertainment is a small price to pay, no?"


My entire body went rigid, shaking uncontrollably.


"My family has the money. If you touch me, I will end my own life, and you will get nothing."


"Where I come from, death is not so easily earned."


In the dim light, my screams were swallowed by the soundproofed walls.


I was broken into a state of hollow despair, left with nothing but dead eyes staring at the ceiling.


Afterward, they blasted me with a high-pressure hose, washing away the evidence.


I dissociated completely, vaguely aware of shadows moving around me in a blur.


I saw Marco, who had once taught me every move, every strategy. He told me only I was strong enough to survive the darkness.


I had worked relentlessly to become his equal, his blade, earning my place by his side.


But in the end, all of that just made me the most logical sacrifice for Isabella.


I had suffered Isabella’s casual cruelty since childhood, and he knew every scar, every humiliation.


But once she was the fragile one, he unconsciously pitied her.


He said she was sheltered and soft, that it was hard for her now, and I should be the bigger person.


So for the three extra days of fear she endured, I had to repay it with my soul.


I am not one to cry. I have swallowed so much pain, bearing it all in silence.


But now, I was screaming without a sound.


When I opened my eyes, I was on a private jet.


The man sitting across from me was a stranger. I instinctively curled into a ball, watching him.


Noticing I was awake, he gave me a detached glance.


"I will provide you with a new identity, erase your past, and give you a fresh start."


"All I ask is for you to do a job for us."


I hesitated, then asked in a raw whisper:


"So after this, they can never find me again?"


The jet landed in a remote, mountainous region.


From a hidden facility, an older man in a tailored suit walked out and extended a hand.


"We have been observing you for nearly three years, Alessia. There is a mission, and you are the perfect asset."


I was stunned, about to ask a question, but he seemed to read my thoughts.


"The Falcone-Volkov situation? Don't worry about it. We have already deployed a tactical unit. We will clean up the mess they made."


"As of now, the news of your death has been released. The clean-up is underway. No one will ever know the truth."


He opened a secure file on a tablet, showing me my own death notice.


[We mourn the loss of Alessia Falcone, who was killed in action during a hostile exchange at the age of twenty-six.]


Below it was a black-and-white photo from my family file. My heart felt like a stone.


The video showed Marco and Luca’s reactions upon hearing the news.


Marco’s brow furrowed, then he asked:


"Alessia's dead? How is that possible? She's walked out of a dozen missions like this. She always comes back. How could this one go wrong?"


Luca, on the other hand, stared at the report, his face paling before he staggered back several steps.


Chapter 4