CHAPTER 3 : PREDATOR

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The heavy, oak door slammed behind me with a resounding thud. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, bouncing off the leather-bound books and marble statues that lined the walls. My pulse was already thrumming beneath my skin, my hands flexing and curling into fists at my sides. I hated this place. I hated the weight of it, the memories it held, and the ghosts that seemed to whisper at the back of my mind every time I stepped into it. But I didn't have the luxury of avoiding it.

"I didn't call you here to throw a tantrum," growled Marco Vitale, his voice cold and gravelly, like broken glass underfoot.

He stood behind the grand desk, his broad shoulders squared, the light from the chandelier casting harsh shadows across his sharp features. His eyes, dark and calculating, didn't stray from mine, but I didn't look away either. I couldn't. Not when I was this wound up, this close to snapping.

"You didn't call me here to talk either," I shot back, my voice low but hard enough to cut through the tension thickening the air. "So, spare me the bullshit, Marco. What the hell do you want?"

His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "You're reckless, Eryx. You think you can keep doing whatever the fuck you want and not face consequences?"

I scoffed, pacing to the side, my boots heavy on the polished floor. "Reckless? Is that what this is about? I did what I had to do."

"You killed him!" Marco's voice rose, anger flaring in his eyes now, the calm facade slipping. "Without permission. Without consulting anyone. Do you even realize what you've done?"

I stopped, my hand slamming against the desk as I leaned in, my face inches from his. "I saved your ass, Marco. He was going to betray us. You should be thanking me."

His hand shot out, grabbing the front of my jacket, pulling me closer. "You don't make those decisions, Eryx. That's not your role."

I gritted my teeth, my heart pounding louder in my ears. "Not my role? I'm the one who gets his hands dirty. I'm the one who does what no one else has the stomach for. Don't talk to me about roles when you sit behind this fucking desk and play god."

He shoved me back, but I didn't move far, didn't let him see how close I was to losing control. This wasn't just about a botched deal or a dead man. This was about power, about respect, and about lines being crossed. I crossed them because I had to. Because no one else was willing to do what needed to be done.

Marco's voice lowered again, dangerous, like the calm before a storm. "I know what you think of me, Eryx. But I'm the one keeping you alive. You step out of line again, and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place."

I stared him down, my blood boiling, but my voice was cold when I spoke. "Remind me? You don't control me, Marco. You never have, and you never will."

The silence between us stretched, taut and deadly. For a moment, it felt like the room would crack under the weight of it. Then Marco leaned back, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.

"Is that so?"

I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to knock that smug look off his face. "You don't scare me."

He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "You should be scared. You have no idea how far I'm willing to go to keep this family in line. You've been a useful asset, Eryx, but don't mistake that for invincibility."

I straightened, my jaw tight. "If you think I'm just an asset, then you've already made your first mistake."

Marco's gaze darkened, but before he could respond, I turned my back on him and headed for the door.

He wanted control. He wanted to keep me on a leash like the others, following orders, staying in line. But he didn't understand. I wasn't one of his dogs. I wasn't going to heel. I turned away and left. I wasn't going to be his dog.

Not now. Not ever.

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