The rain in New York City fell like needles against the pavement, sharp and relentless. Isabella Rossi pulled her coat tighter around herself as she hurried down the dimly lit street. The bakery where she worked had closed hours ago, but the delivery for a late client had kept her longer than expected.
Her heels clicked against the wet sidewalk, echoing in the quiet night.
She hated nights like this.
Nights where the city felt like it was watching.
Nights where every shadow looked like someone waiting.
Isabella glanced over her shoulder.
Nothing.
Just the glow of streetlights reflecting off puddles.
Still, her stomach twisted with unease.
Everyone in this part of the city knew one thing—after midnight, the streets belonged to him.
Luca De Santis.
The man whose name people whispered like a prayer and a warning.
The man who controlled the city's underground world.
The mafia king.
Isabella had never seen him, but she'd heard the stories. Everyone had. Stories about the ruthless way he dealt with enemies. Stories about men disappearing overnight.
And yet… there were other stories too.
Stories about how he protected those under his rule.
Stories about how no one dared touch a woman in his territory.
Suddenly, headlights flooded the street.
A black car screeched to a stop beside her.
Before Isabella could react, the door flew open and two men stepped out.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Get in," one of them said coldly.
"I—I think you have the wrong person," she stammered.
The taller man grabbed her arm.
Pain shot through her wrist.
"You're coming with us."
Fear exploded in her chest. Isabella tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.
"Let me go!"
The man shoved her toward the car.
And then—
A second car appeared.
Black.
Sleek.
Silent.
It stopped behind them like a predator arriving at a kill.
The men froze.
The back door opened slowly.
A tall man stepped out.
Dark suit.
Broad shoulders.
Cold eyes that seemed carved from stone.
The street went silent.
Even the rain felt quieter.
One of the kidnappers swallowed hard.
"…Boss."
Isabella's breath caught.
Boss?
The man walked closer, his gaze settling on her.
Sharp.
Calculating.
Dangerous.
"You're making a mistake," he said calmly.
The man holding Isabella released her instantly.
"We didn't know she was yours," he said quickly.
Luca De Santis looked at Isabella again.
Slowly.
As if studying something rare.
"She isn't," he replied.
The men relaxed.
For exactly one second.
Then Luca's voice dropped.
"But you still touched her."
The silence that followed felt deadly.
Isabella didn't even see the signal.
But Luca's men did.
Within seconds, the kidnappers were dragged to the ground.
Their screams echoed through the empty street.
Isabella stood frozen, unable to move.
Luca turned back to her.
Rain darkened his hair, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
She shook her head weakly.
His gaze softened… just slightly.
"Good."
Then he said the last thing she expected.
"Get in the car."
Isabella blinked.
"What?"
"You're not safe walking alone tonight."
Her instincts screamed at her.
This man was dangerous.
Everyone knew that.
But somehow… she felt safer standing beside him than anywhere else in the city.
After a long moment, she stepped toward the car.
And that was the moment her life changed forever.