Bound by his blood oath

Scarlett Marino always believed crime scenes told the truth.

But that night, the truth nearly killed her.

Scarlett

Rain slammed against the metal roof of the old warehouse as I pushed the door open. My badge hung cold against my neck, and the smell of gunpowder still clung to the air—fresh, sharp, deadly.

This wasn’t the crime scene I was assigned to.

Mine was two blocks over.

But the dispatcher gave me the wrong street, and by the time I realized the mistake, I was already stepping inside.

A single dim light flickered overhead, throwing shadows around the room like they were alive.

Then I saw it.

A man’s body lay collapsed on the floor, a dark pool spreading beneath him. His face was twisted in shock, as if death had snatched him mid-breath.

But that wasn’t what froze me.

A figure stood over the body—tall, broad shoulders, black coat dripping from the rain. His gun was still raised. His head slowly turned toward me.

Our eyes met.

Ice-blue.

Cold enough to stop the world.

For a second, neither of us breathed.

Then his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“You weren’t supposed to see this.”

I stumbled back, hand automatically reaching for my holster.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

He raised his gun—

and aimed it directly at my heart.

Lorenzo

She shouldn’t have been there.

Who the hell walks into a murder scene alone?

Who the hell looks the shooter in the eyes without flinching?

This woman—

brown hair soaked from the rain,

eyes sharp enough to carve through bone—

didn’t even tremble.

Most people begged for their lives.

She simply stared at me.

As if she was memorizing my face.

Dangerous.

Too dangerous.

I took a step toward her.

She mirrored me by stepping back, but her hand stayed steady on her gun. Bold. Reckless.

Or maybe she truly had no idea who she was looking at.

I lowered my voice.

“Drop the weapon.”

She shook her head. “Put yours down first.”

A huff of disbelief left my chest. “You’re giving me orders?”

“Self-defense,” she said. “You kill me, that’s two bodies. You let me walk, that’s zero problems.”

Zero problems?

She didn’t understand anything.

If the family learned that a stranger saw me kill Marco…

She’d be dead within the hour.

And so would I for letting her live.

My finger tightened on the trigger.

But then—

Sirens blared in the distance.

Her eyes widened.

Mine narrowed.

She bolted for the back exit.

I let her go only because the sirens were too close.

But I memorized the shape of her face, the fire in her eyes.

I would find her again.

People don’t walk away from me.

Not ever.

Scarlett

I ran until my lungs felt like they were ripping apart. Rain soaked through my jacket, my boots splashed through puddles, and my mind kept replaying the moment I locked eyes with him.

Who was he?

And who was the dead man on the floor?

I shoved my way into my car and slammed the door shut, gasping.

I was still shaking.

Not from fear.

From anger.

Someone had set me up.

Sent me to the wrong address.

Placed me in the path of a killer.

My phone buzzed.

It was my boss.

I answered immediately. “Captain—”

“MARINO!” he roared. “Why the hell were you at the De Luca warehouse?!”

My blood froze.

De Luca.

The name was infamous.

Crime. Blood. Power.

If the dead man belonged to them…

“I—I didn’t know—”

“Get out of there NOW! Do not go home! Do not speak to anyone! You hear me?”

“I hear—”

BOOM.

My apartment exploded.

The blast shook the car, flames shooting up into the sky. Glass shattered. The shockwave hit me like a punch.

I screamed.

That was my home.

My life.

Everything I owned—

Gone in seconds.

Someone wanted me erased.

I dropped the phone. My hands trembled uncontrollably now.

I was not supposed to survive tonight.

Lorenzo

My coat still smelled like gunfire.

But as I stepped inside the black SUV waiting for me, my phone buzzed.

“Boss?” my right-hand man, Matteo, said. “There’s news.”

“What?”

“The girl. The one who saw you.”

He paused. “Someone just blew up her apartment.”

My jaw clenched.

Too fast.

Too calculated.

Too… clean.

It wasn’t us.

And if it wasn’t us—

Someone else wanted her dead.

“Find her,” I growled. “Alive.”

Matteo hesitated. “Lorenzo… why? Shouldn’t we let the problem handle itself?”

I turned to the window, watching flames from the explosion climb the sky in the distance.

“No.”

My voice dropped to ice.

“She saw me. She’s mine to deal with.”

But that wasn’t the whole truth.

She looked at me like she knew something.

Or like she would matter somehow.

A dangerous feeling began to rise in my chest.

I crushed it instantly.

This woman was a witness.

A threat.

A loose end.

Nothing more.

Scarlett

I drove with no destination, no plan, no safety net. My badge? Worthless now. My identity? Compromised. The mafia? Already hunting me.

I pulled into an abandoned lot, killed the engine, and buried my face in my hands.

I needed to think.

Suddenly—

A tap on my window.

My heart stopped.

I slowly looked up.

Blue eyes.

Cold.

Sharp.

Unmistakable.

He was standing right outside the car, rain sliding down his face like he was carved out of stone.

I scrambled for my gun—

but he slammed his palm on the glass.

“Don’t.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

I unlocked the door out of pure panic.

He opened it and slid into the passenger seat, dripping water onto the floor.

We stared at each other in the dark.

He leaned back, studying my face.

“You’re lucky,” he said.

“Lucky?” I choked out. “Someone just blew up my home!”

He tilted his head. “I know.”

“YOU did it!”

His eyes narrowed—offended.

“If I wanted you dead,” he said quietly, “you wouldn’t have lived long enough to accuse me.”

My stomach twisted.

He was right.

And that truth scared me more than anything.

I whispered, “Why are you here?”

He reached into his coat.

I flinched.

But he only pulled out a folded piece of paper and dropped it in my lap.

My name was printed on it.

My photo.

My badge.

A red X slashed across my face.

“Someone wants you gone,” he said. “And they’re using my family’s name to do it.”

I stared at him.

“Why warn me?” I whispered.

He finally looked away, jaw tight.

“Because the man who died tonight…”

His voice sharpened.

“Was my brother.”

My chest tightened.

“And someone wants it to look like you killed him.”

I shook my head frantically. “I never even met your brother—”

“That’s not the point.”

He leaned closer, his presence overwhelming.

His breath brushed my cheek.

“You are now the only living witness to his murder. And I intend to find out if you’re the reason he’s dead.”

He paused.

“And until I get my answers, Scarlett Marino—”

he said my name like a threat, like a vow,

“—you belong to me.”