The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the sprawling Russian manor. 

Shadows twisted and flickered in the cold night air, dancing with the wind. 

I stood in the darkness, muscles tense, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and anger. 

My breath clouded in front of me, the cold seeping through my jacket, but I barely felt it. 

I had one thing on my mind—Viktor Petrov.

This was the moment I had waited for. 

Retribution.

Behind me, my loyal Italian men flanked my sides, their silhouettes sharp against the faint light.

Luca stood closest, his eyes scanning the horizon, a silent, steady force. 

I'd known him too long to miss the tension in his stance, the slight twitch of his fingers near his gun. 

We were ready, but something about the night felt off, an itch crawling up my spine.

"Luca, are the men in position?" My voice came out cold, steady, even as the storm brewed inside me.

He nodded, his jaw tight. "They're ready, Serafina. Just waiting on your signal."

I inhaled deeply, forcing the anxiety to the back of my mind. "We move now. We can't afford to wait."

We advanced toward the manor, the crunch of gravel beneath our boots the only sound breaking the eerie silence. 

The sprawling estate loomed ahead like a shadowy fortress, the lights from the windows barely penetrating the thick darkness that surrounded us. 

My senses were on high alert, every step like a countdown to violence.

As we got closer, something shifted in the air.

My instincts screamed. A flicker in the shadows. 

Movement.

"Ambush!" I yelled, just as gunfire erupted from the manor's windows.

Chaos exploded around us, the night torn apart by the violent crack of gunfire and the flash of muzzle bursts. 

I dove behind a low stone wall, my fingers gripping the cool steel of my gun.

"Return fire!" I barked, firing off a few rounds, hearing Luca shouting orders to the men.

Bullets whizzed past me, slamming into the stone, sending shards flying. 

One grazed my arm, the sting sharp but ignorable. 

I could hear the frantic shouts of the men, the thunderous roar of bullets cracking through the night, but I forced myself to stay focused. 

I peeked over the edge, firing at a figure darting between two windows. 

One shot, another, and he went down.

But then I saw it—there were too many. Far too many.

"How the hell are there so many?" I muttered, my breath coming in sharp bursts. 

I had expected thirty. Maybe forty. 

But there were easily fifty—more men spilling out of the manor than we could possibly have accounted for.

"Luca, cover the left flank!" I yelled over the chaos, hearing the zip of a bullet too close for comfort. 

The ground shook beneath us as the gunfire continued, the night lit up like some godforsaken battlefield. 

Luca moved fast, rallying the men, but I could see it in their faces—outnumbered, outgunned.

We weren't going to make it.

"Fall back to the main gate!" I commanded, my voice straining with urgency. 

I fired off another shot, taking down another Russian, but it was no use. 

We were breaking, shattering like glass under the pressure. 

We couldn't infiltrate the manor, not like this. Not now.

We began retreating, step by step, the Russians pushing us back. 

I caught sight of Luca out of the corner of my eye, moving toward the front of the group to cover our escape. 

But then, a sharp cry pierced the air.

I turned, dread pooling in my stomach.

"Luca!"

He collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest, blood spilling through his fingers, dark and terrible in the moonlight. 

Without thinking, I ran to his side, sliding to my knees beside him as bullets zipped overhead. 

My hands shook violently as I pressed down on his wound, desperately trying to stop the flood of crimson spilling from his body. 

The blood seeped through my fingers, warm, thick—too much, too fast. 

I could feel his life slipping away, and it felt like I was trying to hold back the tide with nothing but my bare hands.

"Stay with me, Luca!" I begged, my voice breaking as hot tears blurred my vision. "Stay with me, damn it!"

His breath hitched, rattling in his chest, his body trembling beneath my hands. 

His eyes—those sharp, protective eyes that had always been so full of life—were dulling, unfocused, glassy with pain. 

And something worse.

Regret.

"Serafina..." he rasped, blood bubbling at his lips. His voice was weaker now, fading. "It's been... an honor."

"No, no, don't say that." I shook my head wildly, refusing to accept it. "You're going to make it. Just hold on, Luca. Help is coming!" 

I pressed harder against the wound, my hands slick with his blood, but it was like trying to plug a sinking ship with paper.

A sharp, ragged breath left him, and his lips curled into the faintest ghost of a smile. "Le Capetta... show them what happens when a goddess loses her most powerful weapon ." A weak chuckle, barely there, then a wince of pain. " End them, mia rosa. And... be happy, okay? You... deserve it."

"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice shaking as I squeezed his hand. "Don't you dare talk like that. You are not dying. You hear me? You're not—"

"Tell her that... I loved her, I'll be waiting... for her. Tell him that his... light is the only thing that made me feel... alive for the... very first time in my life", he groaned in agony as he tried to form words.

Who was he talking about?

I couldn't say anything as the the blood was pouring out of his body like a river, the life from his eyes was fleeting with every passing moment.

There were gunshots everywhere, my people were dying.

His fingers twitched in mine, tightening for a fleeting second before loosening, slipping.

His eyelids fluttered.

"Luca?" My heart seized. "Luca!"

His breathing was barely there now, just a whisper of air. 

His lips parted, the last remnants of warmth fading from them. "I'll be watching you... from hell."

His voice broke on the last word. 

The light in Luca's eyes dimmed, his chest shuddering with one last ragged breath before going still. 

"No, no, no." My hands moved to his face, cupping his cheeks, patting them lightly. "Luca, wake up! Wake up!"

I could hear footsteps, voices—Elio, Massimo, someone shouting for me to move. 

But I couldn't. 

I wouldn't.

I clung to him, shaking, my forehead pressing against his. He was still warm. He was still here.

But his hand was limp in mine.

And he wasn't coming back.

Gone.

A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat, but it was drowned out by the gunfire.

The rage, the heartbreak, all of it surged through me like a tidal wave. 

My vision blurred with tears, but I was already standing, my hands curled into fists, my gun trembling in my grip.

They would pay. 

I would make sure every last one of them paid.

But the reality of the situation crashed down on me. 

We were losing. Fast. 

With every step back, the weight of the mission's failure bore down harder on my shoulders. 

The taste of defeat—of Luca's death—was bitter in my throat.

With one last, heavy glance at the manor, I turned and ran. 

My feet stumbled on the gravel, and every step was agony, knowing what I was leaving behind. 

The battle was over. 

The mission failed.

Serafina Moretti had failed.

Serafina Moretti lost a battle.

Serafian Moretti has the blood of her best friend on her hands.

Serafina Moretti was mere a child playing dress up in the adults world.

Serafina Moretti was a stupid child bride.

And the life went long, each thought, each remark, detached my soul from my body with each passing second. 

I was not me, like I said, with one of these men, a part of me will perish.

And it did.

The fragment that was always optimistic and positive, precise and patient, lively and unconditional had died.

It's all dead. I am dead. Inside out.

No one spoke. No one had to. 

The weight of defeat hung in the air like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. 

The men who had made it back were slumped, broken, grief written on every face.

I stared out the window during the ride, my reflection staring back at me, hollow and lost. 

Luca's head rested on my lap, my hand still clutching his chest.  

His hands were pale, one of his finger had something written on it. 

I reached for his hand. The ring finger had a single letter engraved.

The letter 'O', written in cursive, laced his finger.

He had someone in his life.

Luca died tonight, but someone else lost their life. And I have no idea how to tell them that.

Maybe they will figure it out when he doesn't shows u for a couple of days, or maybe they'll still think that he is alive and fighting for a master who's not worth a dime.

Maybe they'll wait forever, as agony numbed each cell of their body, one at a time, until they perished.

The blood on my hands wasn't just Luca's—it was the blood of every man I had failed tonight. 

Tears streamed down my face, unchecked, and I didn't try to stop them. 

There was no point. They were a bitter reminder of the loss, the failure that suffocated me.

By the time we reached the my house, I could barely stand. 

Exhaustion—physical and emotional—weighed me down, my legs shaky as I walked through the door. 

Every step felt like a betrayal.

Every breath a reminder of the lives I couldn't save.

Luca. The others. All gone.

And the worst part? The blood on my hands wasn't just from the fight—it was from the failure that was all mine.o

I kissed him goodbye, for the last time.

I stared at him with utmost respect and pain, etching every line and cure of his face in my mind.

And then I left, like a coward. 

I had no guts to face his father, Luigi.

I pushed open the door, my body covered in bruises, dust, and Luca's blood. 

The sight that greeted me made my heart shatter anew.

Lucien and Eleanor were in the living room, lost in each other. 

Eleanor's gags filled the air as she bobbed her head on Lucien's dick.

My pain, already unbearable, intensified. 

Here I was, broken and battered, having just lost one of my closest friends, and they were... they were here, like this.

I stumbled into the kitchen, the bile rising in my throat. My hands shook as I poured myself a glass of a Glenfarclas , the glass clinking against the bottle. 

The liquid burned as it went down, but it did nothing to numb the pain.

I felt numb. 

What was left to feel when your heart had been trampled on so many times?

They saw me, the two of them together, but Eleanor just kept on going, greedily lapping up pleasure to him like it was her goddamn birthright. 

Lucien, however, had the decency—if you could even call it that—to stop her, covering himself as he reached out to me.

I pushed him away, the anger roaring inside me like a raging inferno. "Don't you fucking touch me, Lucien," I spat, my voice hoarse with emotion. 

The pain, the agony, it was all too much to bear.

"Where were you Perle? What happened?", said as he got close to me and placed his hand on my back.

I removed his hand, "Don't come near me when you just had your dick in her mouth, Lucien.", I shouted, my voice sounding like I was fucking possessed.

How can I find comfort in the arms of the man whose body is fragrant by someone else's perfume.

A strong perfume.

A perfume that burns my insides.

A perfume that fumes my soul.

He was not my irises and roses anymore.

His eyes filled with regret, but I couldn't let him speak. I was too far gone, too broken.

He recoiled, his face a mix of shock and hurt. "Serafina, please. I didn't know. I didn't—"

"You didn't know?" I laughed bitterly. "You didn't care, that's what. You were too busy with her to notice anything else."

"That's not true," he protested, his voice rising in frustration. "I care about you, Serafina."

"Care?" I echoed, my voice breaking. "You don't even know what that means. You have no idea what I'm going through. What I've lost."

"Serafina," he pleaded, reaching out again. "Please, let me help you."

I pushed him away, my anger boiling over. "Help me? You couldn't even be there when I needed you. What makes you think you can help now?"

His face fell, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the man I had once believed in. "I want to make things right," he said quietly.

"There's no making this right," I said, my voice cold. "Luca is dead. Nothing will bring him back."

The news surprised his too. I paused for a moment.

"I'll help you with the revenge, please let me in Perle."

"Please, what? Please, come to you? Please, understand? I don't think you get it, Lucien. Luca is dead. DEAD."

"I had no idea about Luca. I'm sorry." he insisted, his face contorted with a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"Sorry?" I laughed bitterly. "You think 'sorry' is going to bring him back? You think 'sorry' is going to erase the image of you and Eleanor, here, while I was out there losing people I care about?"

His face fell, the weight of my words sinking in. "Serafina, I—"

He looked at me, pain and confusion etched in his features. "It's not like that, Serafina. You don't understand."

"Understand?" I echoed, my voice breaking. "You don't understand what it's like to lose someone you grew up with, someone who was always there for you. Luca was my family. And now he's dead, and you're here, pretending to care."

"Serafina, I—"

"No," I cut him off, my eyes blazing with fury. "You don't get to explain. You don't get to make excuses."

Eleanor, who had been watching from the couch with a smug expression, finally spoke up. "Maybe if you suddenly weren't so cold and distant, he wouldn't have missed your friends decrease today, Serafina"

The words were a slap in the face, igniting a new wave of anger. "Don't take my name with your filthy mouth," I snapped. "You're nothing but a leech, feeding off someone else's misery."

Lucien turned to Eleanor, his face a mix of anger and desperation. "Eleanor, please, just stay out of this."

"Eleanor, why don't you tell Lu what you've been doing while he's been oblivious?" I sneered, turning my venom towards her. "Tell him how you've been undermining everything I've built, everything I fought for."

Eleanor just smirked, her eyes cold. "You're just jealous, Serafina. Jealous because Lucien loves me."

"Eleanor, stop it," Lucien said, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. "This isn't helping anyone."

"No, Lu ," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions. "What isn't helping is this charade, this façade of a marriage. We are broken. You and me, we're broken, and there's no fixing it."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Luca is dead, and I don't know how to move on from that. I don't know how to forgive myself. So, just... leave me alone, Lucien. Go back to your perfect life with Eleanor. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Serafina," he said, reaching out one last time.

But I stepped back, shaking my head. "No. Just... no."

I turned and walked away, each step a painful reminder of everything I had lost. 

The tears finally spilled over as I made my way toward my room, my heart shattering with every sob. 

The weight of it all—the grief, the loss, the betrayal—pressed down on me until I could barely breathe. 

Each step felt heavier than the last as if my own body was rebelling against me, dragging me down into the darkness that had taken hold of my soul.

Luca was gone. Lucien was lost to me. 

And I was alone, more alone than I had ever been in my entire life.

I had failed Luca. He had trusted me with his life, and I couldn't protect him. His death was a wound that would never heal, a scar that would mark my soul for eternity. 

And then there was Lucien, the man I had once admired, the man I had once loved with every fiber of my being. 

But now, when I looked at him, all I could see was the void where my love used to be. 

The admiration I once felt for him had turned into a deep, hollow sadness—a constant reminder of everything I had lost.

Lucien used to be my light, my anchor in this world of chaos and violence. 

I had loved him with a fierceness that scared me sometimes and had admired the way he moved through life with such purpose, such control. 

His presence had been a comfort, a steady force that kept me grounded. 

But now... now, whenever I saw him, that love felt like a distant memory, something that had withered and died without me even realizing it. 

The light in his eyes that once brought me joy now brought me nothing but pain, a reminder of the man he could have been, of the life we ​​could have had.

I was a fool to think that love could save us, that it could protect us from the harsh reality of the world we lived in. 

I had put my trust in Lucien and had opened my heart to him, only to be met with betrayal. 

He had chosen his path, one that led him away from me, away from the life I ​​had imagined to build together. 

And in doing so, he had shattered the last remnants of the woman I used to be.

As I reached my room, I collapsed onto the bed, curling into a ball. 

The tears came harder now, wracking my body with violent sobs that left me gasping for breath.

The darkness closed in around me, but it offered no comfort. 

Only the cold, hard truth: I was alone, and the man I once thought I loved was now just another source of my pain.

I could still see his face, etched in my mind like a cruel taunt. 

The way his eyes used to light up when he looked at me, the way his lips would curl into that smirk that made my heart skip a beat. 

But those memories, once so precious, now felt like a dagger to my heart. 

Every time I thought of him, every time I saw him, it was like reliving the betrayal all over again.

The love that had once been my strength was now my greatest weakness, the admiration I had felt for him now a source of unbearable sorrow.

In the silence of the night, my cries were the only sound, echoing through the empty rooms like a ghost haunting the hollow shell of the life I once knew. 

The walls seemed to close in around me, trapping me in my grief, my despair. 

And in that moment, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

The life I had known, the people I had loved—it was all gone, shattered into a million pieces.

Luca, the brother I had lost. Lucien, the man I had loved. 

They were both gone, and I was left to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense.

There was nothing I could do to put it back together. 

No amount of tears, no amount of pain, could bring back what I had lost. 

And so, I lay there, curled up in the darkness, the weight of my sorrow pressing down on me until I felt like I would be crushed beneath it. 

The darkness was all I had left now and in its cold embrace.

I was alone, and the love that had once filled my heart was now just another ghost haunting the ruins of my life.