Chapter 36 – Markos
The steady, repetitive beep pierced through the enveloping darkness, a rhythmic sound that seemed to reach out and anchor me to reality.
I latched onto it, letting its constant presence ground my conscious thought amidst the emptiness.
Slowly, awareness began to creep to the edge of my mind, like the first light of dawn breaking through a long night.
With this awareness came a sharp, undeniable pain that surged through me, igniting my senses.
It was as if my body and mind were awakening together, the pain acting as a catalyst. Alongside the pain came a burst of memory, vivid and intense, flooding back in fragments and flashes, each piece demanding recognition and acknowledgment.
The bullets. The attack. Blood everywhere on the deck of my ship, and—
Her.
With an inhuman effort, I cracked my eyelids. The blinds were shut, but daylight fought to creep through the edges. My fingers inched forward to touch the bandages. The skin on my torso was wicked hot, but I never felt this depth of cold. It saturated my body and made my bones shiver.
“You’re awake.”
I squinted at Atlas, sitting back in a chair across the room. “Where is she?”
Something flickered through his eyes. It was hard to say if it was surprise or anger. The light in here was too dim.
“You’ve had a bad forty-eight hours. The worst is over, but doc says you need to rest.”
He was avoiding the question.
Alarm bells pealed in my mind. I pushed onto my side, biting back the groan of pain. I would not show weakness. “Where the fuck is my wife?”
“If you break the stitches and spike another infection, you might not make it through,” he warned, sitting forward.
“Atlas.”
He blinked. “She escaped.”
Those words sent a rush of panic through me. But as my mind struggled, I realized this might be the best thing for her. The Twelve were not her friends right now. The spotlight was on her, and being left to their mercy would have been disastrous. I leaned back into the pillows.
Serena was defenseless.
I was unable to help her.
“She’s not your target,” I growled.
“The evidence is damning, Markos.”
“What evidence?” I spat.
Atlas swept his hand in my direction.
Frowning, I tried to understand his meaning. How did I, wounded and in bed, damn her?
“Get some rest. We have everything under control.” Atlas rose, moving toward the door.
“Wait.”
He paused but didn’t look back.
“She didn’t orchestrate the attack,” I insisted. “She’s not our enemy—but she will be. If you hurt her, I swear to all that is holy, I will burn this city to the ground and bury the bodies who touched her.”
“Markos.” Atlas clenched his fist and rounded on me. “You’re done.”
“The hell I am!” I struggled to sit, the pain in my lower abdomen screaming in protest.
“We’ll make a motion and relieve you of your duties until you can see reason.”
His threat hung between us, dark and foreboding.
“The only way I’ll quit my role as a member of this organization is if you put a bullet in my head. Are you saying you’re going to execute me, Atlas?” I demanded.
Stalking forward, Atlas pushed on my shoulder. “Look at yourself! You’re bleeding, and yet you still defend her! Clearly, you’ve lost your mind.”
“I have,” I rasped. “She’s mine. I defy heaven and hell to take her, and someone mortal like you? You can’t stop me.”
“She fucking shot you!”
I blinked. “How—?”
“I don’t know how the little bitch managed it.”
I swung.
The punch was sloppy. There was no strength behind it. Atlas didn’t budge, letting my fist collide into his side.
“How dare you accuse her,” I snarled and tried to swing my legs over the bed. I needed to stand. I needed to fight !
With a sigh, Atlas pushed me down. It was disgusting how easy it was for him to maneuver me. We were the same size. Our record in the ring was evenly matched.
“Draco!” Atlas shouted. “Get the fuck in here.”
I struggled, but the hold on me was firm. Almost gentle.
Draco rushed into the room, dropped his sandwich on the chair Atlas had vacated, and came to help. They used straps attached to the bed to hold me down. This room was designed to patch us up, and sometimes that had to be done without drugs. Now those restraints were going to keep me prisoner.
“Atlas, it wasn’t her,” I said, praying that reason won the day. “Serena didn’t shoot me. Whoever is coming for our family did. I got three of them before she shot the last.”
Flicking the last strap tight, Atlas swiveled his gaze to meet mine. “Four?”
“Yes,” I snarled. “Four assailants in balaclavas. These—” I jerked my chin to where the bandages bloomed with crimson marks “—are rifle wounds. Serena used a pistol. The one I gave her, with one last bullet. She shot her mark in the throat.”
A long sigh escaped his lungs. “There were no bodies. No blood. Just a broken dock, the mess on your boat, and a gun in her reach.”
His suspicions made sense.
I hated him for it, but I saw the scene from his point of view.
“Then someone moved the bodies before you came.”
Disdain dripped from his voice. “That had to have happened in minutes. She called, we came, she docked. There wasn’t time to move four bodies.”
“It’s possible,” I insisted.
“It’s possible,” Draco agreed, going back to his sandwich.
I slumped into the bed. “How did she escape?”
Atlas’s eyes darkened. “Men broke into your condo, subdued Iosif, and took her.”
A deep, primal roar erupted from my chest, reverberating through the confined space.
With a jolt, I shot upright, only to be abruptly restrained by the unyielding straps that held me in place.
An all-consuming fury, more intense than anything I had ever experienced, surged through me, sweeping away every trace of humanity.
In that moment, I embraced the beast within, unleashing it with the desperate hope that this untamed part of myself might somehow find a way to rescue my wife from the peril she faced.
“Iosif said they spoke Italian. That she didn’t resist them,” Atlas added. “She might not have shot you, but this damns her, Markos. Even you can see that.”
I shook my head, whipping it back and forth. “She called her family, you idiot. Those aren’t the ones assassinating us.”
Atlas narrowed his eyes. “Her family?”
“Yes,” I seethed. “She’s a mafia princess, and her brother is a fucking don.”
“Oohhh shit,” Draco breathed.
“Yeah, and now they have her, they aren’t likely to give her back.” I dropped onto the pillow.
At least she was safe. Whatever unknown enemy we faced wouldn’t hurt her.
A dark resolve spread through me. First, I would eliminate the threat to my family, then I would bring her back, the queen that she was.
Because Serena was my family. It needed to be safe here for her.
I wouldn’t lose the only one who mattered.
I never thought I would have a family of my own again, and I would be damned if I lost that now that the winds of fate blew her into my life.