Chains and Vows
The world blurred when the smoke cleared. The nanny woke in a dark, damp room, her wrists bound, her head throbbing from the struggle. The air reeked of gasoline and iron.
A shadow leaned forward from the corner.
"Finally awake, princess."
Her blood ran cold. The man's scarred face twisted into a smile. "You thought you could hide as a nanny? You carry your father's blood. And blood can never escape its debt."
She shook her head, fighting tears. "I'm not her anymore. I'm not part of that life."
His laugh was cruel. "You don't get to choose. You'll return to us willingly—or we'll carve your name into the streets until you do."
She clenched her fists, terror mixing with fury. For the first time, she wished she had learned how to fight like the boss's men. But deep down, she clung to one truth—he would come for her.
---
Meanwhile, in the mansion, chaos reigned. The boss stood in the study, blood still dripping from his bandaged arm, his men surrounding him. His daughter was safe, tucked away in a secure room, but his eyes burned with something darker than rage.
"She's gone," one of the guards said softly.
The boss slammed his fist against the desk, shattering glass. "No. She's mine. And I will burn this city to the ground before I let them keep her."
His men exchanged wary glances. They had seen him ruthless before, but this—this was personal.
He leaned forward over the map of the city, pointing to the territories controlled by his enemies. "Block every road. Lock down every port. I want every rat dragged from their holes until we find her. If they want war, I'll give them war."
For a moment, his mask slipped, and pain flickered in his eyes. Not just as a Mafia boss—but as a man who had finally found something worth losing.
---
Back in the dark room, the nanny whispered to herself, trembling but fierce:
"He'll come. He has to."
And somewhere across the city, the boss whispered into the night, his vow echoing like a curse:
"I'm coming for you."