The Mafia Forbidden Possession.

The next morning, Haley woke up to the sound of gunfire.

Her breath caught in her throat as she shot upright in bed, her heart pounding like a war drum.

Not again.

Another round of rapid shots shattered the morning silence, followed by the distant roar of engines.

She barely had time to process before a loud BOOM shook the house, rattling the windows.

Haley jumped out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold marble. She reached for the silk robe hanging off the chair, tying it tightly around her waist as she rushed to the window.

The view from the bedroom overlooked the courtyard. Armed men—Brute’s men—were scattered around, weapons drawn, moving fast. Smoke curled in the air from the front gates. A black SUV had crashed through the barriers, its windshield cracked from gunfire.

Haley’s stomach twisted.

A raid?

Who would be stupid enough to attack Brute in his own home?

The bedroom door slammed open, and Brute strode in, shirtless, gun in one hand, phone in the other.

“Stay here.” His voice was sharp, clipped.

She stepped forward. “What the hell is going on?”

“Business.” He holstered his gun and grabbed a black shirt from the closet, yanking it on. “Lock the door. Don’t come out until I say.”

Haley scowled. “You can’t just—”

Brute was already walking out.

“I said stay here, Haley.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Haley stood there, breathing hard, her fists clenched. Stay here? Like hell.

She ran to the nightstand, grabbed the small knife she kept hidden, and slipped it into her robe pocket before heading toward the hallway.

The house was in chaos. Men rushed through the corridors, barking orders into earpieces.

Haley moved quickly, pressing herself against the wall as two of Brute’s guards stormed past. She had spent years in this house—she knew the blind spots, the places where security was light.

Her bare feet were silent against the cool marble as she slipped downstairs.

The front doors had been left wide open, letting in the cool morning air. She crept toward them, peering outside.

The courtyard was a battlefield.

Bodies on the ground. Blood smeared across the pavement.

Brute stood in the center of it all, barking orders to his men. His emerald eyes were dark, his presence commanding. Even outnumbered, he looked completely in control.

Then Haley saw him.

A man stood near the wrecked SUV, gun in hand, dressed in all black. A stranger.

But there was something about him. Something that made her breath catch.

Their eyes met.

For a split second, the world stopped.

Then—chaos.

Brute turned his head, following her gaze. His expression shifted.

The stranger moved fast. Too fast. Before Brute’s men could react, he had already raised his gun—

BANG.

A guard dropped.

BANG. BANG.

Another man went down.

Haley’s pulse skyrocketed. The man was fighting his way through the courtyard like a ghost, dodging bullets, taking down Brute’s men with terrifying precision.

Brute cursed, pulling his own gun and aiming—

“No!” Haley yelled, lunging forward without thinking.

Brute’s shot missed.

The stranger turned, his gaze locking onto hers again.

Then, before anyone could stop him—

He ran straight toward her.

Haley’s breath stuck in her throat as the stranger ran straight toward her.

She wanted to move, to run, but her feet felt glued to the ground.

Brute’s men were shouting, guns firing, but the stranger was too fast. Too precise. He weaved through the bullets like a ghost, his movements were swift and deadly.

Then—he was right in front of her.

Haley barely had time to gasp before a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, struggling against his grip.

The stranger’s other hand came up—a gun pressed against her temple.

Everything froze.

Brute’s men stopped firing.

Brute himself went rigid, his emerald-green eyes burning with fury. His hand clenched around his gun, but he didn’t fire.

“Put it down.” The stranger’s voice was deep, commanding. “Unless you want her dead.”

Brute’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from the man’s chest. “Oh, I know exactly who I’m messing with, Brute.”

Haley’s pulse pounded.

Who the hell was this man? And why did he sound like he had a personal vendetta?

Brute took a slow step forward, gun still raised. “You won’t kill her.”

The stranger’s grip on Haley tightened. She could feel the hard press of muscle against her back, the steady rhythm of his breath.

“Try me.”

Silence.

Brute’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t shoot.

The stranger took advantage of the moment. With one swift motion, he started dragging Haley backward toward the SUV.

“Brute!” she screamed, kicking against her captor’s hold.

Brute took another step forward, rage radiating off him in waves. “If you take her, I’ll hunt you down and skin you alive.”

The stranger just smirked. “I’m counting on it.”

Then—the world tilted.

Before Haley could react, the man threw her inside the SUV.

She landed hard on the leather seat, her breath knocked out of her lungs.

The door slammed shut and the engine roared to life.

Outside, Brute shouted something, but gunfire exploded again, drowning out his words.

The SUV sped off, tires screeching.

Haley gasped, struggling to sit up, her hands flying to the door handle.

Locked.

She turned, ready to fight—And found herself staring into cold, gray eyes.

The stranger sat across from her, legs spread, gun resting casually in his lap.

His expression was unreadable.

“You’re coming with me.” he declared.