The First Name
The city still bled from the night before. Word spread fast—Lucian Moretti had returned to his old ways, leaving trails of bodies and silence behind him. The Devil had marked his prey.
Marco entered the safehouse at dawn, his jacket spattered with blood and smoke. His face was grim as he handed Lucian a small, folded sheet of paper.
"We got one alive," Marco said. "He lasted two hours under your… methods. Then he broke."
Lucian unfolded the paper. The name written there made his eyes narrow, fury sharpening his expression.
Dante Marino.
Not just a man. A family. Old blood. Respectable on the surface—politicians, bankers, even allies to certain Mafia circles. But behind the polished suits and charity fronts, they were known for their cruelty.
And worse, Lucian knew they had ties to the Nightshade betrayal.
"Marino," he repeated, his voice low and deadly. "They've been hiding in plain sight."
He crumpled the paper in his fist. "Find me every Marino breathing. I don't care if they're in Rome, Paris, or hell itself. I want their blood on my hands."
---
Meanwhile upstairs…
Elena sat on the floor beside Isabella's bed, helping her braid her doll's hair. The child giggled softly, but soon her bright eyes lifted, curious and troubled.
"Mama… why do we keep moving?" Isabella asked. "Why can't we stay in one house like the other kids? Why do men always chase us?"
The question pierced Elena's chest like a blade. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She reached out, brushing Isabella's hair back tenderly.
"Because some people are not kind," she said carefully, her voice trembling. "They want to hurt us. But we're strong, and we're together. And as long as we have each other, nothing can break us."
Isabella frowned. "But… what if they take you away?"
Elena's throat closed. She pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her so tightly it almost hurt.
"They'll never take me," Elena whispered fiercely, tears stinging her eyes. "Because I'll fight for you, always. And so will Lucian. You're safe, my love. Always safe."
---
That night…
Lucian returned, his shirt torn, knuckles raw with blood. He found Elena rocking Isabella to sleep, her face pale but calm. When their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them—her silent fear, his silent vow.
He leaned close, his lips brushing her ear. "I have a name. And when I'm done, the Marinos will wish they were never born."
Elena shivered, torn between relief and dread. She knew the storm had only just begun.
And somewhere far away, in a mansion gilded with wealth, Dante Marino lifted a glass of wine, already hearing whispers of the Devil hunting his family. A cold smile curved his lips.
"Let him come," Dante murmured. "The Nightshade curse always comes with a price."