2

Jake

There’s one thing in this world I hate more than anything, and that’s violence. But no matter how hard I try to distance myself from it, it’s always been tied to me. I hate it with everything I am, but the truth is, violence is part of who I’ve become. I’ve seen the cruelty of the world, felt its darkness in my bones. And I’ve learned something: to fight against it, you have to become just as cruel. You can’t fight a war waving a white flag. To protect the weak, you need power. You need a weapon in your hand. That’s the role I’ve been forced into.

I don’t care how anyone else sees it. I don’t care if they call me a monster. What matters to me is keeping my people safe—even if that means becoming the villain in someone else’s story.

But it wasn’t always like this. There was a time, a long time ago, when I had a different life. A different path.

It all changed when I met her.

Bella.

We were just teenagers back then. She was everything I wasn’t—rich, well-fed, surrounded by warmth and love. I was a street kid, barely surviving, scavenging for whatever I could find. But Bella… she saw me. Not the filthy orphan begging for scraps. She saw me as I was—a kid, her friend. And every day, after school, she’d sneak me food, clothes, anything she could spare. Her hands would be full of things she’d taken from her house—sometimes food, sometimes jackets her parents didn’t even know were missing.

I still remember the first time she brought me a meal. I was hiding behind an old broken fence near her house, cold and starving, when I heard her soft voice.

“Jake?” Bella’s voice always carried that quiet care.

I looked up, surprised. There she was, holding a plate of food in her hands, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “I brought you something to eat.” Her smile was warm, but her eyes—those soft, caring eyes—were what stopped me in my tracks. She didn’t have to do that. But she did.

"That's... for me?" I asked, my voice shaky with hunger.

“Of course, silly,” she replied, sitting beside me. “You can’t survive on air alone.”

We ate together, her laughter mixing with the wind. It was the first time I felt like I mattered. The first time I felt truly happy.

But we didn’t just share food. We shared dreams. I’d tell her about the worlds I imagined, about the life I hoped to have someday. She’d listen—always listening, eyes wide with wonder, as if she believed every word I said. She believed in me, in a way no one else ever had.

One day, as we were playing near the creek, Bella gave me a teasing smile. “When we grow up, you can be a superhero, Jake. You’ll protect everyone, and I’ll be your sidekick, helping you save the world.”

I laughed, the sound bubbling from deep inside me. “I can’t be a superhero, Bella. I’m just me. But I will always be the one you can count on, no matter what.” Her smile softened, and she squeezed my hand.

“But do you have the power to protect me, Jake?” Bella asked, her voice small, her eyes searching mine.

I looked back at her, feeling a rush of determination. "Maybe not today, but one day, I’ll have the power to make the world kneel before me—just to keep you safe."

She pushed her finger against my chest, her gaze firm yet full of trust. “I’ll be waiting for that day, Jake. And until then, I know I can always rely on you to be my hero." I nodded, silently vowing to protect her. To be her hero, no matter what.

I didn’t know it then, but those words—her belief in me—would stay with me forever. In the darkest times, when everything seemed lost, I would hear her voice, and somehow, I’d keep going.

But hope doesn’t last forever.

One day, I found myself caught in something I couldn’t escape. The underworld. The kind of life that swallows you whole. I got pulled into things I couldn’t explain, forced to do things I’d never imagined. The thrill of survival turned into addiction, and before I knew it, I was in too deep.

The deeper I got, the more I had to push Bella away. I couldn’t risk her getting hurt. She was pure, everything good in my life, and I knew the kind of people I was mixing with didn’t care about that. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into my hell.

I started avoiding her. Lying to her. Telling her I was busy, that I didn’t have time for our games, that I had other things to focus on. It killed me every time I saw the hurt in her eyes, the confusion as she tried to understand why I was pulling away. But I couldn’t explain it—not without dragging her into my world. And I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

I remember the last time I saw her before I cut her off completely. We were sitting on the same swing set where we’d spent so many afternoons, kicking at the dirt beneath us.

“Jake,” she said softly, her voice full of worry. “Why are you avoiding me? What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. My heart pounded, but I steeled myself. “I just... I don’t need you in my life right now. You’re nothing but a distraction, and I can’t handle that.” The words suffocated me as I spoke them. I didn’t mean them. But I couldn’t take them back.

I stood up, walking away, not giving her a chance to respond. I left her there, sitting on the swing, her face filled with confusion and pain. I knew I was killing her inside, but I told myself it was for the best. I couldn’t let her be a part of the mess I was becoming.

“So, you’re running away, leaving me? Didn’t you promise to protect me and be there for me?” She called out, her voice cracking with hurt.

My heart twisted, but I kept walking. Every step felt like a knife to my chest. I wanted to turn around, to tell her everything. To tell her how much I needed her. But I couldn’t. I was too far gone. Too deep in the darkness.

“Leave,” I muttered, my voice thick with pain.

And just like that, I walked away from the one person who had never given up on me.

I convinced myself I was safe from the world’s darkness, but I was lost in my own. I couldn’t see the light she had always brought into my life. The weight of my decision hung heavily on me as I disappeared into the night, leaving her behind.

I became a mafia boss, embracing the darkness that consumed me. The memory of her eyes haunted me, a constant reminder of the love I forsook for power and control.

****

“Boss, what should we do with Elliot once we catch him?” James’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts as he glances over at me.

“Do I really need to explain it after all these years?” I answer, cutting the conversation short.

The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable. My fingers absently toy with the chain around my neck—the only thing in my life that’s remained constant. It’s a gift from Bella, years ago. She had no idea how much it meant to me, how much it symbolized the love and care she showed. It’s the only connection I have left to the person I was, the person I wanted to be.

“Boss, there’s someone in the road,” James says, pulling me back to the present.

I look up. A woman lies there, sprawled across the pavement, unmoving. My heart skips a beat. Without a word, I step out of the car, James following close behind.

We approach cautiously. Her clothes are mismatched, her face hidden behind a mess of hair. Something feels off. Like a hit-and-run, or worse.

“James, check if she’s alive,” I bark.

James crouches beside her, gently turning her onto her back. He checks her pulse, then her breathing. His expression hardens. “She’s alive… but barely.”

“No ‘buts.’ Get her in the car,” I snap, already moving closer. He nods and clears the tangled hair from her face.

When I see her face, I freeze. My heart stops. The world tilts beneath me. I feel like I’ve lost control. My legs weaken, but I fight it down. Not now. Not when it matters most.

“James, start the car,” I order, lifting her carefully into my arms. I take long, deliberate steps toward the vehicle, ignoring the ache that threatens to overwhelm me.

“No… not again,” I whisper to myself as I settle her on my lap, wrapping my coat around her fragile form. “James, drive fast. To the headquarters. Now.”

Eight years. I spent eight years keeping my distance, trying to protect her. And now… this. She’s barely holding on to life. Whoever did this to her has made a grave mistake. They will pay.

This woman is mine. And whoever hurt her is going to regret it. No one touches what’s mine.