Aanya had always believed her life was untouchable. The perfect daughter of the city's second-largest mafia family, she knew the rules, she followed them, and she thrived within the walls of power her father had built. But life, she was about to learn, had a cruel sense of timing.
That night, the city was unusually quiet. The moon hung low, casting pale light on the streets she walked alone. A chill ran down her spine, though she couldn't tell if it was the wind—or something else.
Then came the gunshots.
Panic. Screams. Her father's face, twisted in terror, flashed before her eyes. Chaos erupted. Men fell, cars exploded, and the world she had known—her family, her security, her entire life—crumbled in a heartbeat.
And in that instant, she ran. Her legs carried her through dark alleys and narrow streets until she collided with him—a man drenched in blood, eyes colder than ice. Strong, dangerous, impossible to read.
"You shouldn't have seen that," he said, voice low and lethal.
And Aanya knew, even before the night ended, that nothing would ever be the same again.