❝Nothing breaks like a heart.❞

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HARRY STOOD UP, slowly but threateningly, like a cheetah before it strikes. Anna held up her hand, stopping him. "Hands behind your head where I can see them. You try anything funny with me and I will not hesitate before breaking your nose."

He put his hands up but continued his slow pace towards her, as if he did not care what she could do to him. "Harry, stop. You either answer my question the good way or we can do this the medieval time way. Your call."

Anna turned swiftly and locked the door before Harry could say anything. He looked down at his soiled shoes, his hands still above his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering why everything had gone so terribly wrong. He wanted to apologise to her for every single thing he'd done.

Instead, all that would come out of him was, "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to find out. I asked Mark not to tell-"

"Find out never or not now?" Anna demanded, her every word like a whiplash on Harry's chest.

"Never," he whispered quietly. If Anna wasn't so close already, she'd be barely able to hear him.

"So, you would just go on lying to me about all this. About you, this mission, the crew, your father, everything. Was anything you said in these past few months even truthful?"

Harry's eyes swung up to meet hers in a direct challenge. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the 'hi Bermuda', 'oh I love you', 'I'll always be here for you', was a whole charade, wasn't it? Tell me, Florian," she spat, "wasn't it?"

Harry sneered. "Don't you dare call me Florian."

"And why shouldn't I? Aren't you him? Aren't you a fucking terrorist? You are the heir to the Manhattan mafia and you are telling me that you aren't proud of that? You, Florian, are a thief with nothing more than cheap tricks under your belt."

Harry brought his hands down and squared his shoulders. "Say that one more time and I'll make sure you end up in a body bag. I don't care what you think about me. But don't you dare assume that I am Florian. I left that identity behind."

"Did you really?" Anna took another step ahead. "I should have known. Florian Strebor and Harry Roberts. Strebor is Roberts backwards. And you tell me that you left that identity? Sounds to me like you are actually impressed at having been able to come up with the name."

"I swear to God, shut your fucking mouth!"

"Absolutely not, you asshole. Tell me. Why should I? After everything you've done? You are a thief, a murderer, a coward, a b-"

Before Anna could get another word out, Harry flung himself towards her and pressed his hand around her neck. He pinned her against the wall, while Anna grappled under his weight.

"Now, you will shut up or end up dead. Your call," Harry smiled devilishly. "Sit and don't talk."

Anna clenched her teeth. She did not want anything to do with him but she walked to a small settee near the window and sat down, placing her back towards Harry. If this was the only way to get answers, she'd do it. "Go on, I won't give you all day."

Harry rubbed his temples before sitting down on the edge of his mattress, cross legged. "You are right. My name is Florian Emanuel Strebor, the heir to the Manhattan mafia. My father is David Emanuel Strebor, leader of the Manhattan mafia.

My mother was an average thrill chasing American. She met my father, fell in love with his dumb Italian looks and made it her mission to be his one and only. For a long time, they were together. My father was everything she wanted.

A few years later, I was born. Of course, my father was elated. He finally had an heir to his bloody throne. He had no use for my mother anymore. He tried to get rid of her but she was a fighter; she wouldn't let him win just like that. So he abused her, endlessly.

He made my mother's life hell. He wanted her to die a little every day for defying him. And the sick part? He made me watch. That bastard made me watch while she took her last breath, Anna. I decided then that I would bring justice to those who couldn't seek it. Those like my mom.

I worked hard and in secret. Days, nights, weeks, months. I studied. I trained. I built myself up. Mark was my father's assistant's son. He knew everything about what I was doing. He supported all my decisions until I made up my mind to join the Federal Agency.

Mark thought my father would kill me if he found out but I would not listen. I went ahead and sat for the entrance exam. I cleared the fitness round, too. Soon after, my father started getting suspicious of how I kept leaving the house early and coming back late. He had me tracked.

When I came back home that night, he broke a wine bottle and threw it at me. It missed my right eye by inches. Mere inches. He couldn't kill me because I am the only legitimate heir he has. He pushed me out on the street and closed the door on my face.

Damien Cullen, your instructor, gave me a place to stay at the headquarters. I trained and lived there. A few months later, Damien told me I'd be getting my first mission. It was to eradicate Brooklyn of a ring of drug dealers. I had a two month deadline because the job was not huge.

I was well into a month of working with the dealers as a mole. One day, I heard the leaders talk about a large drug shipment coming to the docks. I stole a car and was racing towards the nearest local phone booth that I could find. I was almost there when I heard cars behind me.

The dealers were chasing me and so, I stepped on the gas. I lurched forward but then I saw a car coming in from the opposite direction. I tried to swivel out of the way but it was too late. Our cars crashed into each other with a deadly fire breaking out.

The people chasing me had run away, not wanting to be involved in local accidents. My whole arm was burnt but I got out of the wreckage. I called the police from the booth and fled. They obviously couldn't trace the call to me.

I ran back to the Agency. I confessed to everything. I just asked them to get this case off my back. I told them I would do better. They were pissed at me but decided to give me another try. But as my luck would have it, within two days, a call reached the agency with my description.

Apparently, the drug cartel had cooperated and given up my name. The Agency did not want to appear in the news. They were ready to give me up. I couldn't let that happen. I did not mean for the accident to happen, either. I ran. I ran back to my father.

Surprisingly, he agreed to help me. But only on one condition. I had to let him use my name for all future endeavours of his. Anytime a bank was robbed or a bomb went off, my name would be credited with the incident. It was a small price to pay for my freedom.

I agreed. The government sent out information to catch me but by then I had changed. I now had a new identity, shorter hair, a tattooed arm, and a small ice cream shop. I was forgettable. For two years, I stayed out of the crime scenes but my previous name was everywhere.

Then, my father died and Mark was contacted by our members that I had to pay back my father's debts. I did not have that kind of money. An ice cream shop doesn't make you a millionaire. But I had to get the money or Mark and I were as good as dead.

I orchestrated all of this to pay the creditors back. So no, I never wanted a part in this. I never wanted to be a thief, a murderer or a terrorist. It was my name but it wasn't me. I never wanted to lie to you either." Harry bent his head down again, his tears flowing freely.

Anna's heart ached to reach out to him and so she did. Wrapping her arms around him, she laid her head on his head. "I'm sorry."

"And now, that bastard is alive and wants to kill you so that our plan is not foiled and he gets part of the money I steal. You can leave if you want. I'll arrange for you to safely return back home."

Anna thought about leaving. She could just up and go and no one would be the wiser. But she had already informed Zach and Tia about the heist. They would hunt him down then even if she was not there. She couldn't let it happen. Not to Mia, Noah, Jeremy or Mark. Not to Harry.

"I'm staying and I'm helping. Shut up, I don't want you talking about it. You pay them back and you stop with the crimes, yes?"

Harry smiled through the hurt in his tormented eyes. "You know, I am like the Henry Furon to your Queen Sabiana. The European who gifted the Agapi Mou to Ostraria's queen and died of love and longing."

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