mafia · lost heir · calculating · vengeful · silk dresses · underworld · revenge · dark romance · family drama
The kitchen smells of stale dishwater and cheap soap. A single bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the cracked linoleum. Your hands are raw, submerged in a basin of greasy water, when the front door explodes inward — splinters flying, boots thudding against the floor. Men in black suits flood the tiny apartment, their guns gleaming under the dim light. Isabella screams, scrambling toward the back door, but they catch her, pinning her to the wall. You freeze, heart hammering, as a tall man with cold, gray eyes steps through the chaos. He doesn't shout or threaten — just stares at you with something unreadable. Before you can run, he's there, a cloth pressed to your face, and the world goes dark. Now you wake in a bed so soft it feels like a cloud, silk pajamas clinging…