★★Mariella's POV★★



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The night blurs around me—chaos in every corner. Screams fill the air, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood lingers in the atmosphere, splattering across my dress. Niko's move is clear now—he definitely had something planned. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my grip tightening on the knife in my hand. My eyes scan the area, alert, every movement setting off alarms in my mind. I know something's coming.

Antonio's says, heavy with urgency. "Me and Damien got separated when the shots were fired," he tells Leon, his voice strained.

I glance over at Leon—he's covered in blood, his suit torn, his hair a mess, looking like the very definition of danger. His presence is commanding, intimidating as hell. He grips both guns firmly in his hands, ready for whatever's next. If we weren't in the middle of a fucking warzone, I'd probably throw myself at him right now.

But, unfortunately, there's no time for that.

"The building extends from the back. I need eyes everywhere," Leon's voice is harsh, his gaze sharp and calculating. "Damien has to be here somewhere."

He presses his earpiece again, talking to his men. His orders are cold and precise—no one leaves, no one enters. Kill anyone in sight. The tension in the air thickens, but his focus shifts to me.

"Mariella, you stay with me," he says firmly, and I nod without hesitation. My heart beats faster. There's no way I'm leaving his side now.

Antonio, standing nearby, nods in agreement and moves quickly. "You take some of the men, clear the building." Leon orders him, his voice unwavering.

"Copy that." Antonio leaves, taking a few men with him, but Leon's eyes never leave me. He scans me from head to toe, and then his gaze drops to my arm. His face tightens, his voice low with concern.

"You're bleeding," he says, his tone soft yet sharp with worry.

I glance at my arm—just a small scratch from the earlier chaos in the bathroom. I shrug, trying to brush it off. "I'm not dying, Leon. It's just a scratch," I say, giving him a playful smile.

It's ridiculous—this situation, the blood, the danger, and yet... here I am, feeling butterflies in my stomach because he's concerned. God, he's cute when he worries about me. But there's no time for that now.

We've got a job to do.

He looks at me with something softer in his eyes for a split second before the intensity of the moment rushes back in. "We need to move. Eyes peeled, baby."

When he calls me baby, something in me melts. I can barely contain the need to kiss the hell out of him, but I bite my lip, nodding instead. "Got it."

We start moving, my footsteps falling in sync with his as we make our way toward the spiral staircase, the sound of our shoes echoing through the eerie silence. My senses are on high alert—every step, every breath, every shadow is a potential threat.

And then, it happens.

A group of armed men appears from the shadows, their weapons aimed directly at us. Without missing a beat, Leon opens fire, his shots landing with precision, taking down the closest ones. I slip past him, my knife flying through the air, taking out another attacker in the same fluid motion. We're a well-oiled machine—lethal, unstoppable.

But just as I'm about to strike another target, my knife slips from my hand, clattering to the ground. I curse under my breath as I reach for another weapon, but before I can react, one of the attackers lunges at me with a knife. His eyes gleam with the intent to kill, and I'm caught off guard, unable to dodge in time.

The knife comes down, aiming straight for me.

But before it can reach its mark, a gunshot rings out, and the man collapses to the ground, blood splattering across the floor. I look up to see Leon, his eyes cold and focused, the gun still smoking in his hand.

But just as I'm about to thank him, another attacker emerges from the shadows, his gun raised, aiming at Leon. He's about to pull the trigger, and I can see the deadly intent in his eyes.

Without thinking, I grab the closest knife and throw it with everything I've got. The blade flies through the air, finding its mark in the man's head. He drops like a sack of bricks, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

I rush over to Leon's side, my heart still racing. "You alright?" I ask, barely able to catch my breath.

He nods, his eyes scanning the chaos around us, never once flinching. "Never better," he mutters, his voice low and steady, like the calm before a storm. "Stay sharp."

My heart pounds in my chest, but I can't help the rush of adrenaline. This is what we do. This is what we were made for.

Leon grips my arm tightly, his eyes scanning the space around us. "Let's move," he warns, and I give him a sharp nod.

I grab my knives and a gun from one of the dead bodies on the floor, the cold metal grounding me as I slide the gun into its holster. Leon doesn't say a word as he checks his weapons—his focus razor-sharp. We move forward slowly, the sound of our footsteps blending into the growing tension in the air.

Suddenly, we hear heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. My heart kicks up a beat, but before I can react, Leon pushes me behind him, his body a shield as he readies both guns. Every muscle in my body tenses, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

We round a sharp corner, and just as we're about to come face-to-face with whoever's waiting, Leon's gun is already up, finger on the trigger.

But then—Damien.

His gun is aimed at us, his stance rigid, eyes locked onto Leon with a cold, calculating gaze. For a split second, I think we're going to end up in a firefight, but Leon's voice cuts through the tension.

"Frère? Tu es vivant! (Brother? You're alive!)" he says, the shock evident in his voice. Before I can process what's happening, he lowers his weapon and pulls Damien into a tight hug.

Damien stiffens for a moment, but then he chuckles, pulling back and giving Leon a wry smile. "Bien sûr que je suis en vie, qui va s'assurer que tu ne fasses pas de bêtises ici? (Of course I'm alive, who's going to make sure you don't do anything stupid here?)" His words hit the air like a mix of affection and irritation.

I look at them, utterly lost. What the hell are they saying?

Damien pulls back, eyeing me with an eyebrow raised. "Oh, you're still alive." His tone is dry, bordering on amused.

I can't help it. The frustration boils up inside me, and I snap, "Yay, me." My voice is thick with sarcasm, and Damien lets out a chuckle, which only fuels my annoyance.

Leon ignores the banter, his eyes narrowing with growing concern. "What happened? Where's Niko?" His voice is low, clipped, clearly on edge.

Damien exhales sharply, his frustration evident. "One minute, he's talking to a guy, and the next... gunfire. Me and Antonio took cover under separate tables, had to fight off some Greeks. When I looked up, Niko was gone."

I clench my jaw, anger flaring up.

The bastard fucking bailed like a coward.

Leon's gaze sharpens. "He has to be in the building. I've been notified he never left." His voice is mixed with confusion and a growing sense of urgency.

I step forward, my eyes narrowing as I think it through. "If he didn't leave the building, that means he's planning something else. He was building a distraction, but for what?"

The silence that follows is thick with tension. Leon and Damien exchange a glance, both of them thinking it through, but I can tell they're just as puzzled as I am.

"We need to find him," Leon finally says, his voice hard, his resolve firm. "He's gonna have to kill us to get out of this building." His words hang in the air like a promise—he's not walking out of this without answers, without making Niko pay for every second of this mess.

Damien nods, his expression darkening. "Agreed."

The weight of the moment settles over us as Leon's eyes scan the area, his hand tightening on his gun. "Come on," he commands, and without hesitation, we fall in line behind him, weapons raised, every sense on high alert.

As we push forward, the silence is deafening—every corner we turn, every step we take, every breath we draw feels like we're walking deeper into the lion's den. My mind races.

Where the hell is Niko? What the fuck is he planning?

Suddenly, a burst of gunfire rips through the air, followed by shouts in the distance. Leon's face hardens, and he signals us to move faster, our footsteps pounding in sync as we make our way toward the source of the chaos.

The air is thick with the scent of blood, the metallic taste of danger lingering on the edge of my tongue. And as we reach the door leading to the main casino floor, I can feel it—the anticipation, the final showdown waiting just around the corner.

And I know, without a shadow of doubt, that Niko is about to realize just how badly he fucked up.

The moment we step into the main floor of the casino, everything freezes. My eyes snap to the center of the room, where Niko sits in a chair, looking far too comfortable. His smug smirk is like a slap to the face. Behind him, a wall of his men surrounds him, weapons raised, eyes trained on us. He doesn't even flinch when we enter.

"Well, well," Niko drawls, his voice smooth and dripping with mock amusement. "So glad you could join me. About time." His words hang in the air, too confident, too sure of himself.

Leon's posture tenses, but there's a dangerous calm in his voice when he responds. "Niko, buddy, there you are. I was starting to think you pussied out and hid under a table somewhere."

The words cut through the tension like a knife, but Niko doesn't flinch. Instead, he flares his nostrils, a slight twitch of irritation before he stands, his men stepping forward, forming an even tighter circle around him. The shift is immediate—the air thickens, and every one of us is poised for a fight.

But then Niko's eyes land on me. His smirk widens, and his gaze turns predatory. "Love," he says with mock sweetness, "I see you've chosen a side."

I glance at Leon and Damien, both of them moving forward carefully, ready for whatever the bastard throws at us. The guns are raised, the tension palpable.

I meet Niko's gaze, not an ounce of fear in my expression. "Oh, honey," I say, my voice dripping with contempt, "There was never a side to begin with. You're just fucking pathetic."

Niko's eyes darken, and he takes a step closer, his voice low and taunting. "It's a little disappointing," he says, the words smooth but venomous. "I was really hoping to see what you look like on my bed... legs wide open just for me."

The insult hangs in the air like a noxious cloud, but before I can respond, Leon growls—low and dangerous. His gun comes up faster than a flash, pointing straight at Niko. His men do the same, weapons trained on us, ready to fire.

Silence.

The room feels like it's holding its breath. My heart pounds in my chest, but I don't flinch. I look around, my eyes scanning the room, assessing our options, and then the truth hits me like a freight train—we're trapped.

There are at least twenty of Niko's men surrounding us. We're outnumbered, outgunned. There's no way we can fight our way out of this clean.

Shit.

Niko's eyes gleam, watching us like he knows we're stuck. I can feel the weight of his smirk as he stands there, his men waiting for his command.

"You know," I say, my voice steady despite the knot of tension in my stomach, "this is where you fucked up. You thought you had us cornered."

Leon tightens his grip on his weapon, his jaw clenched. He's ready to go, but he knows, just like I do, that this isn't going to be easy. He looks over at Damien, his face a mask of calculation. "We're not going down without taking a few of you with us," Leon says, his voice dark, lethal. "You wanted this, Niko. Well, now you've got it."

Niko's smirk falters for a fraction of a second. That's all I need to see.

I shift, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring, ready to explode into action. And I can feel it—this fight's about to go down. The tension is suffocating, the sound of my breath loud in my ears as we wait for the inevitable.

The clock is ticking, and we're on the edge. One wrong move, and this room will erupt in chaos.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart is pounding in my chest, but I can't let my nerves show. The seconds are stretching on, and I feel like time has frozen. Niko's eyes are still fixed on me, his smirk unwavering, but something's changing in the air between us.

I take a slow, deliberate step forward, lowering my weapons, watching Niko's men shift slightly. "Niko, honey," I say, my voice soft and laced with sugar, the perfect mix of vulnerability and confidence. "You still love me, right? You wouldn't hurt poor old me now, would you?"

Leon's hand grips my arm, tight but not painful, pulling me back. "Mariella. What the fuck are you doing?" His voice is low, rough with concern and anger. I turn my head slowly, meeting his gaze with a look that I know will make him hesitate.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, voice steady, a challenge in my eyes. For a split second, he looks like he's about to protest, but then he sees something in me. Something calculating, something dangerous, and after a beat, he nods, though the worry never fully leaves his face.

He lets go of my arm, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole time.

I turn back to Niko, who is still sitting there, his expression confused but intrigued. He watches me as I take another step forward, my heels clicking against the casino floor, the only sound louder than my pulse.

"Sweetie," Niko says, a dark gleam in his eyes. "I've always loved you. You just never knew it." His voice is syrupy sweet, but there's an edge to it—he's playing the game, just like I am.

I take another slow step, deliberately close now, my heart racing in my chest. I lower my gaze and drop my knives on the floor with a soft clatter. I watch his eyes follow the movement, the tension in his men ramping up.

"Then please, baby," I whisper softly, my voice barely above a breath, "Don't hurt me."

There's a pause, just a fraction of a second, but it feels like a lifetime. Niko eyes me carefully, his face unreadable. "Now, why would I do that?" he asks, voice dripping with curiosity, but I see the hesitation in his eyes.

This is it.

I reach out slowly, almost delicately, and I take his face in my hands. He doesn't pull away. His eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, everything else disappears. My pulse is deafening in my ears, but I keep my face calm, composed. I trail my fingers gently over his skin, looking at him like he's the only thing that matters in the room.

"Because Niko," I say, voice barely a whisper, "I've always loved you."

And in that moment, it's like everything shifts. He leans in, his breath mingling with mine, but his hands—his fucking hands—move to my lower back and grip my ass roughly. My skin burns under his touch, and every muscle in my body screams to act, to move, to make him pay.

But I wait. I wait for the moment. I need him distracted. I need him close.

I stare into his eyes, waiting for the trigger, feeling it all come to a head. Just a few more seconds.

Please.

And then, like a miracle from above, the doors of the casino burst open with a deafening crash. A hail of gunfire explodes through the room, chaos erupting everywhere. Niko stumbles back, his eyes wide in shock, and for a moment, I'm free.

I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, a small prayer escaping my lips, "Thank you, Lord." The sound of gunfire drowns out everything else, and for the first time since I stepped into this hellhole, I feel alive. I turn to Leon, who's already moving, his gun raised, his eyes fierce with the promise of destruction.

I turn back to Niko, whose men scramble, trying to regain control. It's chaos. But it's the kind of chaos I know how to survive. And in the middle of it all, I smile to myself.

We might just get out of this alive.

The moment the first shot rings out, I don't hesitate. I snatch my knives from the floor, my fingers curling around the familiar weight of the blades, and I lunge at Niko. He sees me coming, and for the first time, his smirk fades. He barely has time to block my first strike as I slash toward his throat, forcing him to take a step back.

But Niko is fast. Too fast.

He dodges my second strike with ease and counters with a brutal punch to my ribs. The impact sends shockwaves through my body, but I grit my teeth, using the momentum to spin and slice at him again. This time, my blade grazes his cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding line.

His expression darkens.

"You little bitch," he snarls, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. And then he moves.

Faster than I expect, he kicks my knife out of my left hand, and before I can react, he grabs my wrist and twists it violently, making me drop the other. I grunt in pain, trying to break free, but he's already got me where he wants me.

His fist crashes into my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I stumble back, coughing, but he doesn't let up. He grabs me by the hair and yanks me forward, slamming my back against one of the poker tables. Chips and cards scatter everywhere as I struggle against his grip.

"You put up a good fight, Mariella," he says, his grip firm as he forces me down. "But I've got the upper hand."

Before I can react, he sweeps my legs out from under me, sending me crashing onto the floor. The impact rattles through me, but I don't get a second to recover—he's already on top of me.

His hands wrap around my throat, cutting off my air.

I claw at his arms, thrashing beneath him, but he's too strong. My vision starts to blur at the edges as his fingers tighten, crushing my windpipe.

And then he leans down, his breath hot against my ear, his voice dripping with venom.

"My father sends his regards," he whispers. "And said your mother was a tight fuck."

My entire body goes rigid. My eyes widen in shock, confusion flooding my mind as his words sink in.

"What?" I rasp, my voice barely audible.

He grins, enjoying the torment in my expression.

"Ask Leon," he hisses, his grip tightening. "He knows everything."

Leon?

The world tilts as I try to process his words, my lungs burning, my strength fading. My vision is tunneling, my heartbeat slowing—

And then suddenly, the weight is ripped off me.

Leon slams into Niko with the force of a freight train, tackling him to the ground.

I gasp for air, my body convulsing as I cough violently, oxygen flooding back into my lungs. My throat aches, my head spinning, but I force myself to focus.

Leon is on top of Niko, his fists coming down like sledgehammers. He's lost in a rage I've never seen before, his knuckles coated in blood as he beats the life out of him.

But I don't have time to process it.

Two of Niko's men rush toward me.

I grab my knife from the ground and pivot, dodging the first man's attack. He swings at me with a baton, but I duck under it, driving my blade into his side. He lets out a strangled cry before collapsing.

The second man lunges at me with a knife of his own, but I twist, grabbing his wrist and forcing the blade into his own throat. Blood splatters across my dress, but I don't hesitate—I kick his body away and turn, scanning the room.

That's when I see it.

Niko, bloodied and barely conscious, reaching into his jacket.

Leon doesn't see it. He's still lost in his fury, pummeling Niko's face into an unrecognizable mess.

But I see it.

Niko pulls a grenade from his pocket.

My breath catches in my throat.

"Leon!" I scream.

Niko yanks the pin out and hurls the grenade—straight at me.

Time slows.

The metal device spins through the air, a silent promise of death.

Leon moves before I do.

He lunges at me, his arms wrapping around me as he tackles me to the floor.

The explosion rips through the room.

The shockwave slams into us, the heat scorching my skin. My ears ring, the sound deafening. For a moment, there's nothing but white-hot pain and the sensation of falling.

And then—darkness.

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WHAT?? bro niko come on dude

Hello?? Are they alive??

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡