Skylark Soars High

My boyfriend, Jules Gray, was the most ruthless young Don of his family, while I was the best mercenary who had once struck fear into the hearts of the underworld. He said he liked gentle women, so I laid down my weapons for love.

We were at war. To settle it, he broke my hand and sent me to the Grays' rival family as a 'sacrifice'.

"Skylar Shaw, it's your honor to die for the Gray family."

Three years later, I returned as the Donna, took over his territory, and blew up his arms ships. When he knelt before me, begging for mercy out of our past ties, I grabbed his neck with my mechanical right hand and fired the gun without hesitation. "Survival rule number one—the loser dies!"

I was chopping onions in the kitchen. The pungent smell made my eyes sting, but the knife in my hand landed firmly on the chopping board, making rhythmic thuds.

It had been three years since I last held a bloodied knife. Since being with Jules Gray, the young Don who ruled Las Vuntos, I had restrained myself. I replaced my tactical vest with a silk nightgown. I became just a housewife who made stews in this heavily guarded manor.

In the study upstairs, faint arguing could be heard, mixed with the dull thuds of heavy objects hitting the floor.

I scooped the onions into the pot. The flames licking the bottom of the pot made a sizzling sound.

The stew was ready, so I scooped a bowl of it and walked upstairs.

At the end of the corridor, the study door was slightly ajar, and a strong smell of cigar wafted out from the crack.

"Jules! Don Gray! You can't just ignore me!"

In the video call, Gianna Gray was crying heart-wrenchingly, "Samuel Robinson captured me! I just accidentally bumped into their goods. Save me, Jules!"

I stopped at the door, my fingers on the tray clenching slightly.

Gianna was Jules' younger sister as well as the Gray family's most favored and least capable member. She was always causing trouble for the family.

I had never heard her sound so panicked before. It seemed she was in serious trouble this time.

Inside the study, Jules sat behind the massive black walnut desk, a freshly rolled Cuban cigar between his fingers. As the smoke swirled, his deeply defined, almost otherworldly handsome face was faintly visible.

He said nothing, only twirling the ruby ​​ring on his thumb. It was a symbol of his power as the Don.

The crying on the other end of the phone grew louder, and Gianna's voice trembled. Even through the screen, one could imagine her fear. "Jules! Samuel said he's going to chop me up and feed me to the fish... What should I do? I'm so scared. Jules... I'm scared..."

Jules' voice was hoarse, with a metallic chill. "Samuel, release Gianna and name your price."

On the screen, Gianna was kneeling on the ground, while Samuel casually placed a dagger against her neck. "Gray, do you remember how my son died? I'll let you choose. Give me 300 million dollars or Skylar Shaw. Otherwise... your sister..."

He lewdly tugged at Gianna's hair, leaning closer to her with an entranced look. "Is mine."

Hearing that, Gianna's terrified eyes instantly lit up with a desperate glint of hope. She screamed at the camera, "Jules! Did you hear that? Every debt has its debtor. Skylar should pay for this! Give him Skylar. Send her here and I can live!"

The screen abruptly went black, leaving only Gianna's heart-wrenching cry of, "Jules!"

My breath caught in my throat as I stood outside the door, a chill creeping up my spine.

Jules did not call back. He took a drag of his cigar, slowly exhaling a smoke ring. His eyes were calm.

"Skylar," he murmured, his voice as soft as a sigh.

Raymond Murray looked at Jules and could not help but say, "Don Gray, Ms. Shaw has been with you for three years. If she hadn't killed Samuel's son, the Gray family wouldn't be standing firm in this position now. Are you really going to abandon your lover for Ms. Gray?"

"Lover?" Jules chuckled coldly. "Raymond, Gianna is of the Gray family's bloodline. In this family, blood ties are above all else. Raymond, are you getting old? Have you forgotten the rules?"

He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. His back was to Gianna and Raymond as he looked out at the dark, rainy night. "She's the Gray family's knife. A dull knife can be sharpened and replaced, but I only have one sister."

"But..." Raymond wanted to say something more.

"No buts." Jules stubbed out his cigar in the crystal ashtray. Sparks flew as if extinguishing my three-year-long dream.

"Samuel wants his dignity back and revenge. If I give him Skylar, the two families will cease fire and Gianna's life will be saved. It's a good deal."

I stood there, my blood running cold bit by bit.

This was the man I had loved for three years. I thought I was his salvation, but it turned out I was just his asset.

A few seconds later, I took a deep breath, put on my usual gentle smile, and pushed open the study door. "Jules, the stew is ready."

Jules turned around, the gloom on his face instantly vanishing and replaced by an impeccably gentle look. He walked over, took the tray from my hands, placed it on the table, and then put his arm around my waist.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" His fingers traced the back of my neck, where an old scar lay; it was from years ago when I took a bullet for him.

"I heard the noise and was worried it'd give you a headache." I looked into his eyes, trying to find even a trace of guilt in them, but there was none. His eyes were clear and affectionate; his acting skills were award-worthy.

"It's nothing. I solved it." Jules picked up the bowl of stew and took a sip. "Skylar, your cooking is getting better and better."

He put down the bowl and took my right hand.

My fingers were long and strong, with thin calluses on the web between the thumb and index fingers from years of holding a gun, but they had been softened and smoothed by hand cream in the last three years.

He placed a kiss on the back of my hand. "Wear that black backless dress tonight."

Jules spoke softly, his tone filled with undeniable affection. "I'm taking you to meet some friends."

I looked at him. "Okay."

I heard myself say, "Whatever you say, Don Gray."

...

Half an hour later, I locked the bathroom door, turned on the tap, and let the sound of running water fill the space.

I pulled out a mini communicator, no bigger than a coin, from a hidden compartment in the inconspicuous jewelry box. This was my last resort.