The ballroom of the Rossi estate glowed beneath rows of golden chandeliers, their light reflecting softly off polished marble floors and towering windows that overlooked the gardens. Music drifted through the room from a small orchestra near the far wall, blending with the quiet murmur of conversations between Milan's wealthiest and most influential families.
Elegant dresses shimmered as women moved across the floor, and men in perfectly tailored suits laughed politely over glasses of expensive champagne. To anyone looking from the outside, the evening would have seemed flawless—a perfect gathering of high society.
Elena Rossi thought it was suffocating.
She stood near one of the tall marble pillars at the edge of the ballroom, loosely holding a glass of champagne she had barely touched. The delicate bubbles had long since faded, but she kept the glass in her hand anyway. It gave her an excuse not to speak to anyone.
Her eyes drifted across the room toward her father.
Giovanni Rossi stood surrounded by several businessmen, his deep voice carrying faintly through the crowd as he spoke with confident ease. Elena had grown up watching him command rooms like this one. Deals were made here, alliances quietly formed, reputations carefully maintained behind polite smiles.
These parties were never truly about celebration.
They were about power.
And Elena was expected to play her role in them.
"Elena."
She glanced to her side as Sofia stepped beside her, a knowing smile already forming on her lips.
"You look like someone forced you to attend a funeral," Sofia said quietly.
Elena let out a slow breath. "At least funerals end sooner."
Sofia laughed softly and leaned against the pillar beside her. "Your father spent weeks organizing this party. If he hears you say that, he'll disown you."
"That would actually solve several of my problems."
Sofia studied her face for a moment before shaking her head with amusement.
"You know half the men in this room have been staring at you all night."
Elena followed Sofia's gaze briefly before looking away again.
"I think they're staring because they're bored," she replied. "Just like I am."
The truth was that Elena had grown accustomed to attention long ago. With her dark hair, striking green eyes, and the effortless elegance expected from someone raised in Milan's elite circles, people noticed her wherever she went.
But admiration from strangers meant very little to her.
She had spent her entire life surrounded by wealth and expectations, and the older she grew, the more it felt like living inside a beautifully decorated cage.
Her gaze slowly drifted toward the tall glass doors that led out to the gardens.
Beyond them, the night looked calm and quiet, a sharp contrast to the noise of the ballroom.
"I need air," Elena said suddenly.
Sofia smiled knowingly. "Escaping again?"
"Escaping," Elena corrected, already moving toward the doors.
No one tried to stop her.
Most of the guests were too busy with their own conversations to notice when she slipped outside.
The moment the doors closed behind her, the sounds of the party faded almost completely. Cool night air brushed against her skin, carrying the faint scent of roses from the gardens.
Elena inhaled deeply, feeling some of the tension in her shoulders ease.
The Rossi estate gardens stretched far beyond the house, carefully designed with winding stone paths, fountains, and rows of tall cypress trees that cast long shadows under the moonlight.
She began walking slowly along one of the paths, her heels tapping lightly against the stone.
This was the only place on the estate that felt peaceful.
Out here, away from the watchful eyes of her father's guests, she could pretend for a few minutes that her life actually belonged to her.
She followed the path farther than usual, drifting toward the darker side of the garden where the lights from the house barely reached.
That was when she heard voices.
They were male voices, speaking in low, tense tones somewhere near the outer wall of the estate.
Elena stopped walking.
Her first instinct was to turn around and head back to the safety of the party, but something about the sound of those voices made her hesitate.
Curiosity slowly got the better of her.
She stepped off the path and moved carefully through the shadows, stopping just before the line of hedges that separated the garden from the side gate leading out to the street.
Through the leaves, she could see them.
Three men stood near the gate.
Two of them were holding another man between them. His suit was wrinkled and stained with blood, and he struggled weakly against their grip as panic filled his voice.
"Please," the man begged. "We can fix this. I'll give you anything you want."
A fourth man stood a few feet away from them.
Even from a distance, Elena could tell he was the one in control.
He was tall, dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, and his posture carried a calm authority that made the others seem almost insignificant beside him.
Moonlight briefly caught his face as he stepped forward.
Elena felt a strange chill run through her.
He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features and dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead. But there was something in his expression—something cold and unreadable—that made it clear he was not a man who showed mercy easily.
The terrified man on his knees continued pleading.
"I swear I didn't mean to betray you. It was a mistake."
The man in the black suit regarded him quietly for a moment before speaking.
His voice was calm and controlled.
"You didn't make a mistake," he said. "You made a decision."
Before Elena fully realized what was happening, the man raised a gun.
The sound of the shot shattered the silence of the garden.
The pleading man collapsed instantly onto the ground.
Elena's breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, the world around her seemed to freeze.
Then the man with the gun slowly turned his head.
His gaze moved through the darkness with unsettling precision before settling directly on the place where Elena stood hidden behind the hedge.
Their eyes met.
A sudden wave of panic rushed through her as she realized the terrible truth.
He had seen her.
One of the other men noticed as well.
"Boss," he said sharply, turning toward the hedge. "Someone's there."
The tall man continued watching Elena with a steady, calculating gaze that made her heart pound against her ribs.
Then he spoke quietly.
"Bring her to me."