The city never slept, not under Luca Romano's shadow. He was the kind of man people whispered about in alleys and boardrooms alike—the ruthless mafia heir who ruled with cold precision. An Alpha in every sense, his presence alone was enough to make lesser men tremble and unmated Omegas instinctively lower their gaze.
Wendy, however, was nothing like the glittering women who surrounded men like him. She lived a quiet life, tucked away in her small flower shop, where the air was always filled with the soft fragrance of roses and lilacs. Her world was gentle, untouched by violence, far removed from the darkness that followed Luca wherever he went. Someone like her was never meant to cross paths with someone like him.
That night, rain fell steadily over the city, painting the streets in reflections of dim yellow lights. Wendy had just closed her shop and stepped outside, pulling her coat closer as the cool air brushed against her skin. She was about to head home when she felt it—a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Heavy. Dominant. Unavoidable.
Her breath hitched.
An Alpha.
Before she could even process it fully, she looked up—and froze.
Luca Romano stood right in front of her.
Not a rumor. Not a distant figure spoken about in fear.
Real. Solid. Watching her.
Her fingers tightened around her bag as her heart began to race uncontrollably. This was the man she had heard about in hushed tones, the one no one dared to cross. And yet, here he was, his sharp gaze fixed entirely on her as if nothing else in the world existed.
Her scent betrayed her first, turning soft and honey-sweet, drifting nervously into the air. The moment it reached him, something in Luca's expression shifted—subtle, but dangerous.
Wendy instinctively stepped to the side, intending to walk past him without a word. She didn't want trouble. She didn't want anything to do with him.
But she didn't get the chance.
Footsteps echoed from the shadows.
Slow. Measured. Closing in.
Wendy's body stiffened as she glanced toward the end of the street, where several figures began to emerge. There was something wrong about them—their presence heavy, suffocating, filled with clear hostility.
Fear curled in her chest.
Before she could react, Luca moved.
He stepped in front of her in one smooth motion, his hand gripping her arm just enough to pull her slightly behind him. The action was quick, instinctive—protective.
"Stay close," he said quietly, his voice no longer teasing, no longer amused.
Wendy's breath trembled. "What's happening…?"
Luca didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the approaching men, cold and calculating, as if he had already measured the outcome.
"Trouble," he said at last.
The word sent a chill down her spine.
The men stepped into the dim light, their intentions now unmistakable. They weren't here by chance. They weren't here for anything random.
They were here for him.
Wendy's pulse pounded in her ears as panic began to rise. This was the kind of situation she had always avoided—the kind that belonged to Luca's world, not hers. Violence. Blood. Death.
And yet, she was standing right in the middle of it.
No—worse.
She was standing behind him.
Protected by him.
As if she mattered.
Luca leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur meant only for her. "When I tell you to run… you run. Don't stop. Don't look back."
Wendy swallowed hard, her fingers instinctively clutching the back of his coat. She didn't argue. She couldn't.
Because deep down, she understood.
This moment—
This night—
Was the beginning of something she wouldn't be able to escape.