After a long, tiring day at work, Saphina finally stepped into her small, cozy apartment. The soft hum of the city outside mingled with the quiet rustle of her belongings as she dropped her bag by the door. She sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the day settle on her shoulders. Despite the exhaustion, she was determined to keep pushing. Tomorrow was another day, and she needed to be ready.
She moved to the kitchen, preparing a simple meal. As she ate, her mind drifted to the challenges she faced at work — the piles of files, the constant pressure to perform, and of course, the enigmatic man whose office was just a few doors down. Tristan. She had to remind herself not to get distracted, but it was hard. There was something about him that kept pulling her in, even though she knew she had to stay focused.
Before bed, she lay out her clothes for the next day, making sure everything was perfect. Her routine was strict because she wanted to prove herself — not just to the company, but to herself. After a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror, she whispered, "You can do this."
Moretti Mansion...
The night sky hung heavy over the sprawling estate of the Moretti family. A place of wealth, power, and dark secrets. Tristan Moretti stepped out of his black SUV, face unreadable, shoulders tense. He had just returned from a meeting with one of his underground contacts—information he gathered wasn't good. The rival mafia clans were moving fast, and he knew what that meant. Blood. Chaos. And danger.
As he entered the mansion, the scent of old wood and cigar smoke filled the halls. In the living room, his father, Lorenzo Moretti, sat in his usual chair, quiet and watchful. The retired mafia king. His sharp grey eyes followed his son as Tristan took a seat across from him.
"They're making moves," Tristan said without delay. "Romano's men are trying to reclaim lost grounds. And there's a new threat—unknown, dangerous. I don't want to wait till they knock on our door."
Lorenzo didn't flinch. "And what do you plan to do?"
"I need to take Liana and Adrian out of the country," Tristan said. "This house is not safe anymore."
Just then, Adrian, his 19-year-old younger brother, entered the room. Tall, with messy brown hair and a stubborn streak in his jaw, he'd overheard the conversation.
"You're sending us away?" Adrian asked sharply.
Tristan sighed. "For your safety."
Adrian's fists clenched. "Why do you all treat me like a child? I'm old enough to fight. I've trained for this! I can help you—"
"This is not a video game, Adrian!" Tristan snapped, rising from his seat. "This is real life. Real bullets. Real death. We don't need hot-headed boys out there trying to play hero."
"F**k off," Adrian muttered under his breath, storming out of the room.
Liana, who just walked in, looked at her elder brother with a tired sigh. "What's wrong with him?" she muttered.
Tristan didn't reply. He simply walked away from the tension, fists in his pockets, heart heavier than he let on. Lorenzo Moretti, still calm, puffed his cigar, observing his family slowly crack under the pressure.
......
The next morning, the city was already buzzing when Saphina stepped out of her apartment. She wore a neat black skirt, a soft cream blouse, and heels—not too flashy, just right for the job. She felt confident and ready to take on whatever came her way.
Until a car sped past a puddle.
A loud *splash!* followed, soaking her front with dirty, murky water.
She gasped in shock looking at her ruined clothes
"Damn,what an a**hole "arghhh!,she muttered
From a nearby shop, a young man had seen the whole thing. "Oh no, miss! Are you okay?" he called, jogging over. He looked around 24, tall and athletic, with friendly eyes and a clean smile. "That driver's a jerk. Look at you."
"I… I'm fine," she mumbled, trying not to curse more. "Just… ruined my day before it started."
He smiled. "Hold on. I run that little boutique there. I've got something clean you can change into. Free of charge. Come on."
Saphina hesitated, then followed him, she had no choice. In the shop, he handed her a fresh blouse and skirt.
"You don't have to do this," she said softly, accepting the clothes.
"I know. But I want to," he smiled. She changed into the new clothes and came back to meet the young man.
"I'm Jack, by the way."
"Saphina," she replied.
"Pretty name," he said. "It suits you."
She gave a small smile and nodded. "Thanks, Jack. Really."
"Anytime," he said, watching as she hurried off again.
I'm running late will see you after work, they said their goodbyes
But by the time she reached work, she was late. Very late.
As she entered the building, she rushed to her office only to hear the door across the hall slam open.
"Miss Hadley," Tristan's voice rang out, cold and hard.
She turned, already bracing herself.
"My office. Now."
She followed him inside, trying not to tremble. Once the door shut, he turned to her, arms crossed.