Stacy's POV

The bass of the music vibrated through the floor of the packed club. I could feel it in my chest, the rhythm sinking into my bones as I leaned against the bar. People moved around me like they were swimming in a sea of flashing lights and blurred faces, but I wasn't in the mood to enjoy it. Tonight wasn't about partying or losing myself in the music. It was about survival.

And Klaus's words kept playing in my head on an endless loop.

"They're watching. Waiting."

His warning had been so casual, like he was just telling me about the weather. But the look in his eyes—dark, unreadable—had sent a chill down my spine.

I shifted, trying to spot him in the crowd. His tall, muscular frame should've been easy to find, but Klaus had a way of blending in when he wanted to. It's what made him both dangerous and infuriating.

What's his game?

"Here." Noah slid a drink in front of me, his hand brushing my arm as he leaned closer. His warm presence should've been comforting, but tonight even that felt off. Nothing felt right anymore. Not with Klaus's cryptic warnings hanging over my head and the Irish mafia figuring out who I really was.

"Thanks," I muttered, wrapping my fingers around the glass but not drinking. The ice clinked softly, a stark contrast to the chaotic noise surrounding us.

"You good?" Noah asked, tilting his head to study me. His concern was genuine, and I hated that I couldn't be honest with him. He didn't need to get tangled in this mess. Not yet.

I forced a smile, even though the knot in my stomach tightened. "Just tired, I guess. This place is a bit... overwhelming tonight."

He didn't look convinced. Noah was sharp, and he'd known me long enough to pick up on when I was faking it. But thankfully, he let it slide.

"If you wanna leave, we can," he offered, rubbing the back of his neck. "We've had our fun. I could use some quiet night anyway."

Quiet. That sounded like a dream. But as much as I wanted to escape this suffocating atmosphere, leaving wouldn't change the fact that the Irish mafia knew who I was—or at least had suspicions. And now, Klaus was involved too. The dangerous, arrogant Klaus who seemed to know too much without knowing anything at all.

"I think I'll take you up on that." I nodded, setting the glass down. "Let's get out of here."

We made our way through the crowd, Noah's hand finding the small of my back as we pushed past groups of laughing, dancing bodies. My skin tingled where he touched me, but it wasn't the electric spark I would've felt a year ago. So much had changed since then.

Lily caught sight of us before we reached the exit. Her blonde hair shone under the strobe lights as she practically skipped over, blocking our path with a knowing smirk.

"Leaving already? Party's barely started!" she teased, clearly in high spirits.

I mustered a smile. "I'm just wiped. Been a long day."

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't press the issue. Lily always knew when to push and when to back off—one of the reasons we'd been friends so long.

"Alright, but don't think you're getting out of a girls' night next week," she warned, pointing a finger at me playfully.

"I wouldn't dream of it." I pulled her into a quick hug, hoping my mask didn't slip as she squeezed me tight.

With a final glance, we slipped out the door into the cool night air. The music immediately became muffled, the bass now just a distant thrum in the background. I took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air as it filled my lungs, but the unease I felt didn't fade.

Noah walked beside me, silent for the first few blocks, his hands shoved into his pockets as we made our way to his car.

"You've been acting weird all night," he finally said, his voice low but steady. "Something's up, Stace. I know you. So why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

I stiffened, the guilt gnawing at me. He was right. I was acting weird, and I hated that I couldn't just tell him the truth. But how could I explain that I was being hunted by the Irish mafia because they'd figured out I wasn't just Stacy, the normal high school girl? I was Stacy, the Donna of the Greek mafia. The one who made the decisions, pulled the strings, and kept everything running smoothly in the shadows.

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Really. I've just been stressed with school and... other stuff."

Noah didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He was always understanding, always patient. I didn't deserve him.

"If you ever want to talk... you know I'm here, right?"

"I know," I whispered. "Thank you."

We reached his car, and the drive back to my house was filled with a heavy silence. Noah reached over occasionally to give my knee a reassuring squeeze, but it didn't stop the thoughts swirling in my head. Klaus's warning, the Irish mafia's looming threat, it all felt like too much.

When we finally pulled up in front of my house, Noah turned to me, his brow furrowed with worry. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, already reaching for the door handle. "Yeah, just... tired. I'll be fine. Promise."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go. "Alright. Get some rest, okay?"

"Night, Noah." I flashed a quick smile before slipping out of the car, my heart heavy with the weight of everything I couldn't say.

As soon as I stepped into the house, I leaned against the door, closing my eyes as the tension slowly drained from my body. But the relief was short-lived. The second I stepped into my room, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out, my stomach dropping when I saw the name on the screen.

Klaus.

Of course.

Reluctantly, I swiped the screen and opened the message.

Klaus: You're stressed. Breathe, angel.

I groaned, rolling my eyes as I collapsed onto my bed. Angel? Seriously? I should've known Klaus wouldn't leave me alone after his little stunt earlier. But what bothered me more was how he even knew I was stressed. Was he watching me?

Me: How the hell did you get my number?

The three dots appeared almost instantly, and I could practically feel the smirk through the screen.

Klaus: I have my ways.

I scowled, tossing my phone onto the bed. Of course, he had his ways. Klaus was the type to have access to anything he wanted. A dangerous combination of intelligence and arrogance wrapped in a package that was far too tempting for his own good.

I picked the phone back up, my fingers flying across the screen.

Me: You're a stalker. That's what you are.

Klaus: I prefer to think of it as keeping an eye on you. For your own good.

I scoffed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. He was maddening, always walking that fine line between infuriating and... something else. Something I refused to acknowledge.

Me: I don't need a babysitter.

Klaus: Maybe not. But you need someone to keep you alive.

My breath caught in my throat at the sudden shift in his tone. It wasn't playful or teasing anymore. It was serious. Deadly serious. And that terrified me more than I wanted to admit.

Me: What do you want, Klaus?

The dots appeared again, longer this time, before his reply finally came through.

Klaus: Meet me tomorrow. We need to talk.

I frowned, my fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Talk? What could Klaus possibly want to talk about that he hadn't already said?

Me: Why? Just say whatever you need to say.

Klaus: This isn't something I can't explain over text. Tomorrow. Noon. The café on 5th.

I groaned. I knew exactly which café he was talking about. A small, out-of-the-way place that no one went to unless they had a reason. It was the perfect spot for private conversations. Or shady dealings.

Me: Fine. But no games, Klaus.

Klaus: No games. I promise.

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding as I debated whether or not I was actually going to show up. Klaus wasn't someone you trusted lightly. Hell, I didn't trust him at all. But he was involved now, whether I liked it or not. And with the Irish mafia breathing down my neck, I couldn't afford to ignore any potential allies.

Even if that ally was Klaus.

The next morning, I was anything but calm as I approached the café on 5th. My fingers twitched, my hand hovering over my concealed weapon out of pure habit. If anything went wrong, I'd be ready. Always had to be.

As I pushed the door open, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted me. The place was quiet, just as I'd expected. Klaus sat in the far corner, his back to the wall, his sharp eyes tracking me as I walked toward him. He was dressed in dark clothes that only made him look more menacing, and yet, as always, there was something magnetic about him. Something that made it hard to tear my gaze away.

I hated that.

"Angel," he greeted me with that infuriating smirk as I sat across from him.

"Don't call me that," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Alright, Stacy," he said, leaning back in his chair. His eyes flicked over me, assessing. "You look like you didn't sleep."

I glared at him. "Gee, I wonder why."

Klaus chuckled, but there was no real humor in it. "I didn't bring you here to antagonize you."

"Then get to the point," I demanded, narrowing my eyes. "What do you want?"

For the first time since I'd met him, Klaus's expression shifted, becoming more serious. His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, something almost... vulnerable. It threw me off, and I didn't like it.

"I have information," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "About the Irish."

My blood ran cold. Of course, he did. He'd hinted at it last night, but hearing him say it aloud made the threat feel all too real.

"What do you know?" I asked, my voice hard.

Klaus leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked me dead in the eyes. "They know about you, Stacy. They know who you are."

I froze. Every muscle in my body tensed as his words sank in.

"How?" I whispered, my heart racing.

Klaus shook his head. "I don't know how they found out. But they're coming for you. And they won't stop until you're either dead or completely out of the picture."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with a million different scenarios. The Irish weren't just dangerous—they were relentless. If they knew I was the Donna of the Greek mafia, I was as good as dead.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice barely steady. "Why help me?"

Klaus's gaze softened, just for a moment, and it threw me off again. "Because you're not the only one they're after. They're targeting anyone who's connected to you. Your family. Your... friends."

I felt my stomach drop. This wasn't just about me. This was about everyone I cared about.

"And what do you get out of this?" I asked, my suspicion creeping back in. "Why are you so eager to help?"

Klaus's smirk returned, but this time, there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Let's just say I have a score to settle with the Irish.
I felt the weight of Klaus's words as they hung between us. The Irish mafia knew about me. Me. Stacy—the Donna of the Greek mafia. They were coming for me and everyone I cared about. My heart raced, but I couldn't let him see my fear. Fear was a weapon people like him could use against me.

Klaus's eyes hadn't left mine, and his steady gaze was unnerving. He was always watching, like a predator sizing up his prey. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered me. It was the fact that Klaus, of all people, had somehow figured out who I really was.

For years, I had kept my identity hidden. Nobody knew except the triplets. The Donna of the Greek mafia was just a shadow, a ghost that only a few whispered about in the underworld. And yet Klaus... he knew.

I straightened in my chair, narrowing my eyes at him. "How do you know who I am, Klaus? How did you find out?"

His smirk returned, curling up at the corners of his lips, but there was something else there too—something darker. His fingers drummed lightly on the table as he leaned back, his body relaxed, but his eyes never lost their intensity.

"I have my ways," he said smoothly, voice dripping with that infuriating arrogance.

"That's not an answer," I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. "I want to know how you figured it out. No one else knows—no one but the triplets."

Klaus's smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough. He sat up, resting his elbows on the table and leaning closer to me. His expression darkened, a storm gathering in his eyes.

"You're not as invisible as you think, angel," he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "People in this world talk. It didn't take long to connect the dots once I started digging."

I stared at him, my heart pounding. Digging? Why had Klaus been digging into me in the first place?

My voice hardened. "Why were you looking into me? What made you start poking around in my business?"

Klaus's eyes flickered with something unreadable. He paused for a moment, his fingers stilling on the table. The silence between us stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he let out a low breath, his expression softening.

"You intrigue me," he admitted, the words surprising me. "From the moment I met you, I knew there was more to you than you let on. The way you carry yourself, the way you handle situations... it didn't add up. So, I did what I do best—I started investigating."

I clenched my jaw, my mind reeling. He investigated me? The thought made my blood boil. Klaus wasn't just some casual acquaintance or even a close friend. He had deliberately dug into my life, my secrets. But what bothered me more was how he'd gotten so close without me realizing it.

"What exactly did you find out?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my heart was hammering in my chest.

Klaus leaned forward even further, his face now inches from mine. "I found out that you're not just some normal girl living an ordinary life. I found out that you're powerful. That you're in control of more than anyone realizes. The Irish know it too, Stacy. And now, so do I."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. For years, I had meticulously crafted the illusion of being just Stacy, the girl who blended in. But Klaus had seen right through it.

"What exactly do you know?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. "Tell me everything."

Klaus's POV

The truth about Stacy had come to me piece by piece, like assembling a jigsaw puzzle without knowing what the final picture looked like. When I first saw her, she seemed like any other girl—confident, a little cocky, sure. But there was something else too, something in the way she carried herself, in the way she moved through a room without drawing attention but always watching.

She reminded me of myself. Always assessing, always calculating.

I couldn't ignore that feeling, the nagging curiosity gnawing at me, telling me she wasn't just some normal girl. And when I'm curious about something—or someone—I don't let it go.

It started with small things. Little details I noticed that didn't quite add up. The subtle way her brothers deferred to her, the way she commanded respect without saying a word. It was the way she handled problems, always with the air of someone used to being in charge. I've spent enough time in this world to recognize a leader when I see one.

But it wasn't until I started digging deeper that the pieces began to fall into place.

I'd had a contact in the Greek underworld—a guy who owed me a few favors—and when I mentioned Stacy's name, he went pale. That was my first real clue that she was more than she seemed. He didn't say much—couldn't say much, really—but it was enough. The whispers I'd heard about the Donna of the Greek mafia were vague at best. No one knew her real identity, and there were more rumors than facts, but what my contact did confirm was that she was dangerous. Ruthless.

And when I started connecting the dots, it all pointed back to Stacy.

I'd been right about her all along.

I didn't confront her right away, though. I needed to know more. Needed to be sure. So I watched, waited. And the more I saw, the more convinced I became.

And now, sitting across from her in that café, I knew everything. Well, almost everything. Stacy was still an enigma, a puzzle I hadn't fully solved. But I knew enough.

Enough to help her—or use her. I hadn't decided which yet.

She was staring at me now, her arms crossed defensively, but I could see the fire in her eyes. She wasn't just scared—she was pissed. Good. Anger was better than fear. Fear made people weak. Anger, though... that made people fight.

"What exactly do you know?" she demanded, her voice sharp and cutting.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her for a moment before answering. "I know you're the Donna of the Greek mafia. I know you've kept that secret from everyone except your friends. I know the Irish are onto you, and they're not going to stop until you're dead or out of their way."

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought she might throw her coffee in my face. But instead, she just glared at me, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You had no right to dig into my life like that," she snapped, her voice low and dangerous.

I shrugged, unfazed by her anger. "Maybe not. But it's a good thing I did. Otherwise, you'd be walking into a trap blind."

She flinched at that, just barely, but I saw it. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she processed what I'd said. I wasn't wrong. The Irish mafia had figured her out, and they were coming for her. If I hadn't been digging, if I hadn't been watching, she'd be caught off guard. Vulnerable.

I wasn't about to let that happen. Not yet.

"I don't need your help," she said, her voice icy. "I can handle this on my own."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Can you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're in over your head. The Irish aren't just after you—they're after anyone who's close to you. Your brothers. Your friends. Noah."

Her eyes flashed with panic at the mention of Noah, and I knew I'd hit a nerve.

"That's right," I said softly, my voice like velvet. "They know about him too. And they won't hesitate to use him against you."

Her composure cracked, just for a moment. It was subtle, but I saw it. She cared about Noah—more than she let on. And that was a weakness. One I could exploit if I needed to.

But I wasn't here to push her too far. Not yet.

"I'm offering you a way out," I said, my voice calm, steady. "I can help you. I have resources, information. You won't be able to survive this on your own, Stacy. Not with the Irish gunning for you."

She stared at me, her eyes searching mine for something—maybe a lie, maybe a weakness. But I didn't flinch. I wasn't lying. I could help her. But she had to trust me first.

And that was the hardest part.

"I don't trust you," she said finally, her voice flat.

I smirked, leaning back again. "You don't have to trust me, angel. You just have to let me help you."

Stacy's POV

His words echoed in my mind: You don't have to trust me, you just have to let me help you. The worst part was, deep down, I knew he was right.

But that didn't make it any easier.

The Irish mafia wasn't just coming for me—they were coming for everything I held dear. My brothers, my friends, Noah. They would stop at nothing to destroy me, and now, Klaus was sitting here, offering his hand. I didn't want to take it. Everything about him screamed danger, manipulation. He wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart—Klaus didn't have one of those.

But I also couldn't deny that he had resources I didn't. Information I needed. If the Irish knew who I was, if they were targeting Noah...

My heart clenched at the thought of Noah getting caught up in this. He didn't deserve that. None of them did.

Klaus's eyes were still on me, watching, waiting for my response. There was a tension between us, thick and electric, and I could feel it crackling in the air. Every time I was near him, it was like my body was betraying me, drawn to him in ways I hated to admit.

Damn him.

"You think I'm just going to trust you after all this?" I asked, my voice tight.

"I don't think you have much of a choice," he replied smoothly, his gaze unwavering. "But you don't have to like it."

I scowled, crossing my arms again. He was right—I didn't have much of a choice. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Fine," I said after a long pause, my voice bitter. "You can help me. But don't think for a second that this means I trust you."

Klaus's smirk returned, and for a moment, it was like the tension between us shifted, becoming something else entirely. Something darker. Something hotter.

"Oh, I wouldn't expect you to trust me, angel," he said softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "But we're going to have a lot of fun figuring this out."

Klaus's POV

The silence between us was thick and tense, but it wasn't the kind of tension I usually felt when things were about to go south. No, this was different—electric, almost like it was charged with something... unspoken. There was always an edge with Stacy, a kind of challenge in the way she looked at me, like she was daring me to make the next move. And hell if I wasn't up for it.

But now that we were on the same side—at least for now—I couldn't help but feel like I needed to know more about her. The more I learned, the more she fascinated me. Stacy wasn't just some pretty girl playing at power. She had power. And she wore it like armor, hiding whatever was underneath.

Still, there were too many gaps in her story, too many pieces missing. I knew she was the Donna of the Greek mafia, but what I didn't know was how she got there. How the hell had she managed to rise to the top without anyone knowing? Even I hadn't seen it coming, and I usually saw everything.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her as she fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, her eyes darting anywhere but at me. It was rare to see her like this—guarded, vulnerable. I could push her for answers now, but part of me wanted to see how much she'd reveal on her own.

"So, tell me something," I started, my voice casual. "How does a woman like you end up as the Donna of the Greek mafia? It's not exactly a nine-to-five gig."

Her eyes flickered to mine, and I saw the flash of hesitation before she schooled her expression. She wasn't going to make this easy, and honestly, I didn't expect her to.

Stacy shifted in her seat, her posture stiffening slightly as she forced a small, almost amused smile. "It's a long story," she said, her tone light but guarded. "Let's just say I knew the right people."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a smirk. "The right people, huh? Must've been some serious connections. You don't just fall into a position like that."

She shrugged, her eyes slipping away from mine for a second. "I was close with the old Don," she said, her voice a little too smooth, a little too rehearsed. "He... trusted me. When things got messy, I stepped in."

I watched her carefully, noting the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly, the way her fingers toyed with the hem of her sleeve. She was lying. It wasn't an outright lie, more like a carefully constructed story meant to shield the truth. But I'd been in this game long enough to recognize when someone was hiding something.

Still, I didn't push her. Not yet.

"Close with the old Don, huh?" I said, my tone light, teasing even. "That's convenient."

Stacy shot me a look, her eyes narrowing. "Convenient?" she echoed, her voice sharp. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I shrugged, leaning back again, my eyes never leaving hers. "Just seems like there's more to the story than you're letting on, angel. But hey, you don't have to tell me everything. Not yet."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flashing with frustration. She didn't like that I was calling her bluff, but she wasn't going to crack, not now. Stacy was too good at this game, too used to hiding the truth behind half-smiles and vague answers. And honestly, I found it fascinating.

"Believe what you want," she said coolly, her voice firm. "I don't owe you an explanation."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "You're right. You don't. But it doesn't change the fact that you're still hiding something."

Her eyes locked onto mine, a challenge sparking in them. "And what exactly do you think I'm hiding?"

I leaned forward again, closing the distance between us. The air between us felt heavy, charged, and I could see the way her breath hitched slightly as I got closer. "That's what I intend to find out."

She didn't back down, didn't flinch. Instead, she met my gaze head-on, her eyes blazing with defiance. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the tension thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, she leaned back, breaking the stare-off with a frustrated sigh.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words. It was more like... reluctant admiration.

I grinned, satisfied. "And you love it."

She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. Instead, she stood up abruptly, crossing the room to put some distance between us. "If you're done with the interrogation, we should focus on the real problem—the Irish."

I watched her move, the graceful way she carried herself even when she was pissed off. Every inch of her screamed control, dominance. She wasn't just the Donna of the Greek mafia because she knew the right people. No, there was something deeper there, something she wasn't telling me. But I'd figure it out. Eventually.

Standing up, I followed her, keeping my tone serious this time. "You're right. We need to figure out our next move before the Irish get too close. They know who you are now, and they'll come at you full force."

She stopped, turning to face me with a steely expression. "Let them come. I'm not afraid of them."

I smirked. "Maybe not. But you should be smart about this, Stacy. They'll go after your weak points."

Her eyes flickered, and I saw that flash of vulnerability again. It was brief, but it was there. She knew what I meant. The Irish wouldn't just target her—they'd target the people she cared about. Her brothers. Noah. Everyone close to her.

"We can't take them on alone," I continued, my voice steady. "You need allies. And like it or not, I'm your best shot."

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she nodded. "Fine. We work together. But this is temporary, Klaus. The second this is over, we're done."

I smirked, stepping closer to her again, my eyes locked on hers. "We'll see about that, angel."

Her breath caught, and for a second, I thought she might say something, but instead, she just glared at me, turning on her heel and walking away. I watched her go, a small, satisfied grin tugging at my lips.

This was far from over.

Stacy's POV

The air in the room still buzzed with the intensity of our exchange. Klaus had this infuriating way of getting under my skin, of making me feel... off-balance. Vulnerable. I hated it. And yet, there was something about him—something dangerous, sure, but also magnetic. The way he looked at me, the way he knew I was lying about my past, but didn't push. It was like he was biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I hated that I couldn't tell if I was playing his game or if he was playing mine.

My mind raced as I walked away from him, trying to focus on the bigger issue at hand—the Irish. They knew who I was, and they were coming. I needed to be prepared. I needed to protect my brothers, to protect Noah. But I couldn't deny that Klaus was right about one thing: I couldn't do this alone.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, still standing where I'd left him, watching me with that infuriating smirk. He was dangerous. But right now, he was a necessary danger.

"How do you plan to deal with the Irish?" I asked, my voice steady, masking the turmoil inside me.

Klaus's smirk faded slightly, his expression turning serious. "We hit them before they hit us."

I frowned, turning to face him fully. "That's easier said than done. They've already made the first move by revealing they know who I am. They'll be expecting retaliation."

He nodded, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "True. But we won't hit them where they're expecting. We'll strike where they're weak."

"And where's that?" I asked, crossing my arms.

Klaus stepped closer, his voice dropping low, almost conspiratorial. "The Irish have a lot of enemies, and not just us. If we can find out who else they've pissed off recently, we can make this their problem, too. We create chaos, let their other enemies do the heavy lifting while we move in quietly."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed despite myself. It was a solid plan—risky, sure, but if we could pull it off, it could buy us the time we needed.

"I'll need to reach out to some of my contacts," I said, already mentally running through the list of people who owed me favors. "See what I can find."

Klaus nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. "You do that. I'll handle the rest."

There was something in his tone, something that made my skin prickle. It wasn't just the plan that had him so focused—it was me. He was still watching me, studying me, like he was waiting for me to slip up, to give him a reason to dig deeper.

But I wasn't going to let that happen. Not yet.

Not until I figured out his endgame.

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A/n:

Ok so a few POV changes, I am so so so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out I just kept loosing focus and I rewrote this chapter like 5 times before giving up and going with this so please if you have any suggestions or ideas please please pleaseeeeee tell me!

Anyway tysm for reading I love you all see you next chap!

WC: 5450