Elias sits in the high-backed leather chair of his private office, high above Milan. The city hums below—a network of greed, ambition, secrets, and blood. His empire.
The room is dim, save for the faint blue glow from monitors and the sharp glint of the whisky in his glass. On the desk lie classified shipment records, money laundering trails, and encrypted communications—his kind of bedtime stories.
Power moves in silence, and he is fluent in it.
"Did the arms dealing with the Irish mafia go smoothly?" he asks, his voice cool, even.
Kai doesn't flinch. "Yes, Capo. Goods delivered. Payment received in full. No loose ends."
Elias nods once. "And the alcohol shipment to Asia?"
"Landed last night. Discreet distribution already in progress. We've secured the port for future use."
A flicker of satisfaction crosses Elias's face.
Every clean deal, every untraceable transaction—it fuels him.
The control. The efficiency. The obedience.
It's like oil on fire. He enjoys it—the unspoken reverence, the precision, the fear.
Power wasn't given to him; he built it, learned to wield it like a blade. It made him arrogant, composed, and untouchable. And he liked it that way.
Yet lately… something splinters that quiet dominance.
He exhales, slowly swirling the amber in his glass. His mind should be consumed by expansion strategies and territorial borders.
Instead… it drifts.
To almond-shaped eyes.
To a girl in wide-legged jeans and a pink hoodie.
To silence that didn't command power—but radiated peace.
She didn't demand attention. She simply existed.
And somehow, that made her unforgettable.
She didn't dress to provoke, didn't seek eyes on her.
And yet—his eyes kept finding her.
"She walks like she belongs only to herself… like the world doesn't get to touch her unless she allows it."
He scoffs at himself, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. Kai looks up from his tablet but says nothing.
"You're losing focus," Elias mutters under his breath. "Over a girl who didn't even look at you twice."
But she did look at him. Just once. Just long enough for something sharp and warm to stir in him.
He had stared at her like a fool. She had lowered her eyes, not out of fear, but something else. Something that made his arrogance feel juvenile.
"Anything else?" Elias asks suddenly.
Kai tilts his head, studying him with the subtle curiosity only a best friend dares. "You've been… distracted, lately."
Elias gives him a deadpan look. "Noted."
"You want me to say it?" Kai grins. "Because I will."
"Say what?"
"That a girl who reads books in libraries and won't even let a man brush past her got under the skin of the great Elias Sinclair?"
Elias doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.
"Peace," he thinks. "She carries peace like it's sewn into her bones. And I…"
"…I've forgotten what that feels like."
For the first time, the taste of power doesn't feel enough.
Not compared to the way her presence had slowed the world for a moment.
"What do you do with a light you can't touch?"
"Do you walk away?"
"Or does a man who lives in shadows learn to crave sunlight?"
The room falls into stillness, like it's holding its breath.
Elias leans back in his chair, the empire spread before him.
Yet, somewhere deep inside, a whisper remains.
Her.