Meeting him.
1767 Words
“Thank goodness his guards were not around. You could have gotten yourself killed. You never listen to me, Sapphire. I told you to always inform me before you embark on a mission.”
Uncle Diego’s voice was tight with anger.
We were in the training room, and the cold tension in the air was almost suffocating. His face was set in a hard frown, the lines on his forehead more pronounced than usual.
I had gone to Italy without telling him.
The moment my source informed me that Romero was returning to Italy and that there would be an attack on the road, I had followed them.
I did not think so. I simply moved.
“I wanted to save him from those assassins,” I said, pressing a pack of ice against my injured arm.
Diego snatched the ice from my hand with a frustrated sigh and began wrapping my arm carefully with a clean bandage.
“I honestly do not understand you,” he said, his voice low and angry. “On one hand, you hate him and want to make him suffer, and on the other hand, you are risking your life to protect him.”
“That’s the point, Uncle,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I do not want him dead. Death would be too easy for him. I want him to suffer, but only by my hands. I want to be the one who gives him every ounce of pain.”
Diego paused, his fingers tightening around the bandage.
“But in the process, you are hurting yourself too. Every step you take toward him drags you back into your past. You need to heal—”
“No, Uncle.”
I cut him off sharply. “I need to feel.”
My voice came out darker than I intended.
“What I need is the satisfaction of hurting him. This is who I am now. This is the monster he made. He created this version of me, so why shouldn’t I show him exactly what he turned me into?”
I stood up slowly, flexing my injured arm.
“I’ll be leaving for Italy tomorrow. He’s back in town now. It’s time I get to work.”
Diego’s expression softened, but the anger in his eyes remained.
“I resent that family too,” he said quietly. “You know I do. But the reason I am trying to stop you is because this journey will destroy you. You are not only fighting an enemy, Sapphire. You are fighting the man you once loved.”
I looked away for a moment.
“I’ll be fine, Uncle,” I said coldly. “Romero is no longer the man I worshipped. He is now the man I will break.”
I gestured toward the door.
“Go get some rest.”
Diego only nodded and made his way upstairs.
I knew his silence carried years of pain.
The Cartels killed his wife.
The only reason he had not gone after Romero himself was because I asked him not to.
But Romero was not my only target.
The Cartel family was filled with names that deserved blood. Too many to count. And they would all go down. One after the other.
I lowered myself onto the floor, the cold tiles pressing against my skin, and let my mind drift back to the events of the night.
~~Some hours ago~~
Just as I had been told, gunshots erupted in the forest.
Romero’s car had been stranded on the road, trapped between broken branches and darkness.
His guards had rushed off to call for help, assuming he had escaped.
Unknown to them, he was being held at gunpoint.
I had already killed nine men that evening.
The tenth stood with his back turned to me, his gun aimed at Romero’s head.
Without hesitation, I moved behind him.
One swift s***h. His head dropped before his body did.
Blood splattered across the wet ground.
Romero’s eyes met mine.
The moment I looked at him, the rage inside me surged like wildfire.
This was the man who had taken everything from me.
The man who had turned me into this dark, ruthless version of myself.
He already had wounds on him, but I did not care.
In one swift motion, I drove my blade across his arm. A deep cut.
Blood poured instantly, staining his shirt and dripping onto the forest floor.
He winced and staggered back.
Some of his blood splashed onto my black outfit.
I was grateful for the mask because it made looking at him easier. I turned to leave, but then his voice stopped me.
“Who are you?”
His voice was weak, strained with pain.
I turned slowly, fury burning in my chest.
Then I smirked beneath my mask.
“The monster you made.”
I left him with those words.
I ran until my legs ached, until the bridge ahead came into view.
I had just stepped onto it when a hand grabbed me from behind. It was one of the men who had attacked him. Still alive.
“Who are you?” he growled.
I rolled my eyes and drove my foot into his stomach.
He doubled over and rolled to the side, but quickly regained his footing. His sword gleamed in the darkness.
I had a gun, but no. Let’s play.
He lunged at me, but I dodged and aimed for his neck. He was faster than I expected.
His blade sliced across my shoulder, and pain shot through me. I stumbled back.
Enough.
In one swift motion, I slashed across his neck, drawing a deep line of blood.
Before he could recover, I drove my sword straight into his stomach.
His eyes widened.
Then I shoved him off the bridge.
His body vanished into the darkness below.
Breathing hard, I limped toward my car, which I had parked far away from the road. I drove back home. Or at least to the place I now called home.
My real home had been stolen from me long ago.
~~~Now~~~
Romero’s POV
“How is it possible that we were attacked? How could all of you be so careless?” My voice thundered through the room.
I was confined to bed rest because of these fools. I scanned the room, fury simmering beneath my skin.
My arm throbbed beneath the bandage.
I had no choice.
It needed time to heal.
Twelve men stood before me in silence, rigid as statues, their heads bowed low.
No one dared speak.
They knew the consequences.
I was not done.
I had been attacked on my way back to Italy, and not one of them saw it coming.
I do not pay men for nothing.
I was nearly killed, and all they could do was run for help.
No weapons and no preparation.
How do twelve trained guards embark on a journey without weapons in the car?
Outside, rain began to fall and thunder rolled across the sky.
The room was dimly lit, the grey walls casting long shadows beneath the flickering lights.
The curtains swayed as cool wind swept in through the slightly open window.
I stood from the bed and faced them fully.
“I gave you one simple task,” I said, my voice cold. “Drive me back to Italy. Is twelve men not enough for a two-kilometre journey?”
“We’re deeply sorry, sir,” one of them said nervously. “We did a background check, but we found nothing. The assassins just appeared—”
“Enough!”
The room fell silent.
“Excuses are merely another form of incompetence. You will all be punished accordingly.”
My gaze sharpened.
“Who was that woman in the ninja outfit?”
I turned to Rio.
His lashes flickered nervously as he glanced at the others.
When no one answered, he looked back at me.
“We do not know, sir. We searched the area but found nothing. All the assassins had been killed, and we even found a body beneath the bridge.”
“Shut up.”
My jaw clenched.
“How does a woman escape all of you in the middle of the night alone?”
My voice rose.
“Get out. All of you.”
They hurried out with their heads lowered in shame.
Good.
I exhaled slowly.
Who was she?
Her eyes…
They felt familiar and she saved me.
Then she wounded me.
The monster you made.
What did she mean?
I sat back down on the bed, my thoughts circling around the mystery woman.
“Romero!”
Sophia’s voice cut through the silence as she barged into my room.
I looked up.
Her apple-shaped face was framed by blonde hair tied into a neat bun, and her grey eyes were filled with false concern.
She wore a silk nightgown that shimmered under the dim light.
“What are you doing here?” I asked coldly. “And what did I tell you about barging into my room?”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said softly as she sat beside me on the bed. “I was worried about your arm.”
She was my supposed wife.
I never married her.
My sister, Rwanda, brought her here.
I never paid much attention to her.
She clung to me like an insect.
“Keep your worries to yourself,” I said flatly. “And kindly leave my room. I am not in the mood for your drama.”
I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.
“I am your wife, Captain…”
My eyes snapped open.
“I never married you. Hell, I have never even touched you. The only reason you are still here is because your father was a respected friend of my late father.”
I pointed toward the door.
“Now leave.”
Her face fell.
“But everyone calls me your wife. I’ve told people—”
“Get out, Sophia!”
My voice echoed through the room.
“Do not make me repeat myself.”
Thankfully, she rushed out.
Silence returned.
My eyes wandered across the gold furniture and the luxury that filled my room.
Yet something felt… missing.
A strange emptiness.
I knew I had once been married.
But I had no real memories of her.
She had been insignificant.
But that girl tonight…
The one with the red hair.
Her actions left me confused.
How does someone save a man’s life and then wound him in the same breath?
- Writer
