Chapter 1: The Wrong Turn
I shouldn't have been there.
I kept telling myself that as my back pressed against the cold wall of the alley. The air felt heavy, as if danger hung from every breath I took.
Just one wrong turn.
A shortcut I thought was safe.
But I was wrong.
I heard the voices first—low, serious, with no room for jokes. I stopped walking, gripping my bag tighter. I wanted to turn back, but it was already too late.
A gunshot.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. My eyes widened as I peeked through the darkness. A man fell to the ground. Blood. Real blood.
It was all real.
"Someone saw."
My entire body went cold when I heard that voice—deep, calm, and filled with authority. He wasn't shouting, which made it even more terrifying.
Slowly, he turned.
And that's when our eyes met.
I was frozen in place. He was tall, dressed in black, holding a gun as if it were an extension of his body. But that wasn't the most frightening part.
It was his eyes.
No emotion. No mercy. As if he was used to blood and death.
"Come here," he ordered.
My mind stopped working. My feet moved on their own, trembling as I slowly stepped closer. I felt tears building, but I refused to cry. I didn't want to look weak.
"Name," he demanded.
"Elara… Elara Cruz," I answered softly.
He looked me over from head to toe, as if measuring my worth—or how easily I could be erased.
"You saw too much," he said.
That was all. No shouting. No explanation. But it was enough to make my world collapse.
"Please," I whispered. "I won't say anything. To anyone."
He stayed silent for a moment. The only sound was the footsteps of his men. A younger-looking man approached him and whispered something.
"Boss, it's risky to let her go."
Boss.
That was the first time I heard that title used for him.
He looked back at me. "I won't kill you," he said, as if it were a simple decision. "But you can't leave either."
My knees weakened. "What… what do you mean?"
"Come with me," he ordered. "From now on, you're under my rule."
That's when I learned his name.
Alessandro Moretti.
A mafia boss.
The most feared man in the city.
They took me to a huge house—no, a mansion. Tall gates, guards on every corner. It felt like I had stepped into a world I never imagined could exist.
"No one leaves without my permission," he said as we walked down the long hallway. "You'll be guarded at all times."
"I'm like a prisoner," I said before I could stop myself.
He stopped and looked at me. Not angry. Not calm either. Just a look I couldn't read.
"A living prisoner," he replied. "Better than being dead."
He left me in a room—large, luxurious, but cold. When the door closed, that was when I finally let the tears fall.
I don't know how long I'll stay here.
I don't know what he plans to do with me.
But one thing is clear—
In the world ruled by Alessandro Moretti,
I have no power.
And my life has been thrown into danger.