Good Girl Gone Bad

SAOIRSE.

“The choice is yours, Saoirse. Pick wisely.”

Those words clawed at me, digging into my skin like thorns, twisting deeper with every breath as I stood there in Azriel's office, my hand clunched onto the door knob, slippery under my sweaty palm.

The air was thick, suffocating, and I could feel his gaze burning into my back like a brand.

I spun around slowly, white-hot pain shooting through my fingers. Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away, forcing steel into my spine. No. I wouldn't break. Not for him. Not for any of them.

“You think you can blackmail me with my brother?” I hissed, my voice low and venomous, each word dripping with defiance. “Using a sick innocent kid to make me your puppet? You're worse than monsters. You're nothing but cowards hiding behind power.”

Azriel's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his sharp features before it melted into that infuriating smirk. He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the fabric of his suit straining just enough to remind me of the predator beneath.

“Cowards? Oh, sweetheart, cowards are far different from survivors. And you are about to learn that defiance in Castello gets you buried.”

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, my heels clicking sharply on the floor. The room felt smaller now, the walls pressing in, but I refused to back down.

“Worse? Like what? You kill me? Fine. But Aofie? He's innocent. Touch him, and I'll make sure every soul in this city knows what you really are, spineless lunatics playing god with lives that aren't yours.”

“Bold words from a girl who's shaking like a leaf.” His laugh was a dark rumble, low and mocking, vibrating through the air like thunder. “You think running your mouth will save you? Zeus doesn't take kindly to threats. And neither do I.”

I jabbed a finger at his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath, but I didn't flinch.

“Let him come. Let your precious Zeus hunt me down. I'll fight. I'll scream. I'll expose every dirty secret you hide.” I provoked even further. “You want loyalty? Earn it. Not with your own poor tricks.”

Azriel's smirk faded, his eyes darkening to something feral, dangerous. He straightened, towering over me, his presence overwhelming, like a storm cloud blocking the sun.

“You have no idea what you're unleashing, Saoirse. Zeus Trojan doesn't play games, he ends them. Walk out that door, and you're fair game. He'll find you, break you. And when he does, your brother won't be the only one paying.”

The threat hung heavy, but it only fueled the fire in my veins. I shoved past him, my shoulder brushing his arm, the contact sending an unwanted spark through me, heat and hate mingling in a toxic rush.

“Then let the wolf hunt,” I spat, yanking the door open. “I'm not his to own.”

I slammed it behind me, the echo reverberating down the empty hallway. My legs trembled as I ran, heels clacking frantically against the polished floor, past the dim lights of the club where shadows danced like ghosts.

Great. Where in the world did you get to say those bold words to him?! At this point, you're just literally digging your own grave, Saoirse!

The main room was a blur of bodies and bass, but I didn't stop, bursting through the back exit into the humid night air of Castello. Rain had started to fall, a light drizzle that soaked my skin instantly, plastering my hair to my face.

Panic clawed at my throat, but I pushed it down, forcing my mind to focus. Home first. Grab what I could, then disappear.

Aofie. I had to get to him, warn the hospital, and find a way to protect him. But how? These men owned the city, Azriel had said it himself. Every corner bent to his command. So, who am I really running from?

My apartment was blocks away, a rundown building in the heart of the slums, but I sprinted, ignoring the catcalls from drunks and the distant wail of sirens. The streets were alive with Castello's underbelly, prostitutes in skimpy outfits, dealers lurking in alleys, the air thick with smoke and desperation. I ducked into my building, heart pounding, and raced up the stairs, keys fumbling in my lock.

Inside, the space was cramped, cluttered with Aofie's drawings on the fridge and his favorite stuffed bear on the couch. I grabbed a duffel bag, shoving in clothes, cash from my hidden stash, barely enough for a bus ticket out of town, and Aofie's photo. My hands trembling with sweat as I dialed the hospital, voice breathless.

“I–Uh. Hello. This is Saoirse. Saoirse Vincenzo. I need to speak to Dr. Devinal about my brother, Aofie. It's urgent.”

The nurse on the line hesitated. “Ma'am, visiting hours are over. Is there an emergency?”

“Yes! Tell him—tell him not to let anyone near Aofie. No strangers. Please, just...protect him.” I hung up, tears streaming now, mixing with the rain on my face. I couldn't stay. They'd find me here.

I slipped out the back way, into the alley, the drizzle turning to a steady pour. Castello's streets were a maze, but I knew them, shortcuts through markets, hidden paths. If I could make it to the bus station, maybe catch a ride to the outskirts, then…what? Run forever? But Aofie. My little brother needed me.

Footsteps echoed behind me, too close, too deliberate. I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing but shadows. Paranoia? Maybe I was just paranoid. But deep in my skin, I can’t shake the feeling that there could be them.

That there could be him.

I quickened my pace, weaving through puddles, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The bus station was a mile away, neon signs flickering in the distance.

A hand clamped over my mouth from behind, strong and unyielding, yanking me into a dark alley. I screamed into the palm, muffled, thrashing wildly, my elbow connecting with a solid chest.

“Hemp!” I snarled, biting down hard on the hand, tasting blood.

“Fuck!” The voice was a growl, deep and familiar, laced with pain and amusement.

Zeus Trojan.

He spun me around, pinning me against the brick wall with one hand, his body pressing into mine, hard and hot despite the rain. His black eyes gleamed in the dim light, predatory, like a wolf cornering its prey.

My bite didn't flinch him, not a fucking bit, he just looked at it with a smirk.

“You bite like a fox, Saoirse,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

His free hand gripped my wrist, pinning it above my head, the other still covering my mouth lightly now, thumb brushing my lips.

“However, foxes cannot outsmart wolves, can they?”

I struggled, kicking at his shins, my knee grazing his thigh. “Get off me!”

He chuckled, low and dark, his body trapping mine, the heat of him seeping through my wet clothes. “Defiant little thing, aren't you? Running from Azriel's office like that, brave, but stupid. Did you really think you could hide in my city?”

I glared up at him, defiance burning in my chest. “Your city? Castello belongs to no one. Let me go, or I'll scream loud enough to bring the whole street down.”

His eyes darkened, a thrill of danger flashing in them. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing my neck, the touch electric, sending unwanted sparks through my veins.

“Scream then. Let them come.”

I bit my lip. Without saying a word I headbutted him, hard, my forehead connecting with his chin. He grunted, loosening his grip just enough for me to wrench free, shoving him back.

“Get lost, you lunatic!” I yelled, bolting down the alley.

He was on me in seconds, faster than I thought possible, tackling me to the ground in a puddle. We rolled, mud and rain soaking us, his weight pinning me down. I clawed at his face, nails raking his cheek, drawing red marks.

“You fight dirty,” he hissed, but there was admiration in his tone, his hands capturing my wrists, holding them above my head.

“Like you don't?” I panted, bucking beneath him, our bodies grinding together in the struggle.

His shirt was torn, revealing glimpses of tattooed skin, muscles flexing as he restrained me. The rain poured harder, plastering his hair to his forehead, making him look even more feral.

His hands clamped around my wrists like iron vices, pinning them above my head, I twisted, my soaked clothes and pants clinging to my thighs, the fabric tearing slightly as I kicked out, my heel grazing his shin but doing nothing to budge him. His breath came in hot bursts against my neck, whiskey-laced and heavy with the metallic tang.

“Let me go, you asshole!” I snarled, my voice raw, throat burning from the scream I'd muffled into his palm moments ago.

My knee jerked up, aiming for his groin, but he shifted, his thigh blocking the blow, the hard press of his leg grinding against mine in a way that ignited an unwelcome friction, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Zeus's eyes, dark and feral under the flickering streetlight, locked onto mine, pupils swallowing like a storm devouring the sky. His free hand shot up, fingers tangling in my wet hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat, the pull sharp enough to make my scalp sting.

“Fight all you want.”

I spat, the saliva landing on his cheek, trailing down in a slick path that mixed with the water streaming from his hair. “You're insane.”

His grip tightened in my hair, tilting my head further, and then his mouth crashed onto mine, not a kiss, but an invasion. His lips bruised against mine, demanding, parting them with ruthless force. His tongue thrust in, tasting of aged whiskey and the sharp bite of danger, swirling against mine in a possessive claim that stole my breath.

I bit down hard on his lower lip, the coppery taste of blood flooding my mouth, but instead of pulling away, he groaned deep in his throat, the sound raw and primal, his hips grinding forward, pinning me harder against the ground. The pressure built, a throbbing ache between my legs that made my thighs clench involuntarily, my body arching into him despite the rage screaming in my mind.

His free hand slid down, fingers digging into my hip, thumb pressing into the curve of my waist, the touch searing through the wet fabric. I thrashed, my wrists straining against his hold, nails scraping uselessly at his forearm, drawing thin red lines that beaded with blood.

The kiss deepened, his tongue relentless, exploring, dominating, until my lungs burned for air. When he finally tore away, his lips were swollen and glistening with our mingled blood and rain, his eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling in ragged sync with mine.

“You taste like rebellion, Saoirse,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, thumb swiping the corner of my mouth. “Addictive as fuck.”

“Addictive? You're a fucking psycho,” I gasped, my voice breaking, body still buzzing from the unwanted sparks he'd ignited. “Let me up, or I'll knee you where it hurts most.”

His laugh was a dark rumble, echoing off the alley walls, but his eyes narrowed, a predatory glint sharpening them. He released my wrists but didn't step back, his hand trailing down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fiesty, aren't we?” His fingers curled around my throat, not squeezing, but holding, a promise of control that made my pulse leap under his palm.

The rain poured harder, soaking us both, but the heat between us burned hotter, a dangerous surge of hate that left me breathless and aching.

I kneed him then, hard in the groin, and he doubled over with a curse, releasing me. I took the chance to kick him and scrambled up, slipping in the mud, and ran again, my lungs burning.

“Run, little fox. Run as far as you can.” Behind me, his voice carried on the wind. “Just remember, I hunt better than you hide.”

The bus station loomed ahead, lights blurring through the rain. I ducked inside, drenched and panting, buying a ticket to the nearest town with shaking hands. As the bus pulled out, I peered into the night, half-expecting to see him. But the streets were empty and silent. For now.

Hours later, in a cheap motel on the outskirts, I collapsed on the bed, exhaustion crashing over me. But sleep didn't come. Zeus's words echoed over and over. And deep down, a part of me wondered if I wanted to be found.

The game had begun, and as long as I’m in Castello City, no one escaped the wolf.