The first hint of dawn, pale and hesitant, crept over Moretti’s Castle. Inside Dominic’s private quarters, the silence was heavier than usual, broken only by the distant hum of the castle’s systems and the faint, rhythmic ticking of an ornate clock. He stood by the tall, arched window, a glass of amber liquid untouched in his hand. The night had been a violent mess of shooting and betrayal, ending with Maria’s final, heartbreaking sacrifice. Her words, her whispered request to protect Aria, echoed in his mind, a solemn vow carved into his very soul.

He had promised. And Dominic Moretti never broke a promise, especially one made in blood.

The brutal reality of his life crashed down on him. Maria had died protecting him from a bullet. The Vescari, a family known for their vengeful and merciless nature, now knew she had shielded him. It wouldn’t take them long to connect Maria to her daughter, Aria. She was a loose end, a potential target, a vulnerability they would exploit without hesitation. Leaving her in Milan, exposed and unaware, was not an option. He had to bring her to the castle, under his absolute protection, immediately. The threat was already out there; it was only a matter of time before it reached her too.

He finished his drink, the familiar sting of the alcohol offering a small comfort against the cold dread in his stomach. He had never met Aria before. He only knew Maria had a daughter, a fact Maria had kept fiercely private, shielding her from his dark world. Now, that separation was over.

Dominic walked over to Maria’s room. On her bedside table, tucked behind a Bible, was a faded photograph. It showed Maria, smiling widely, with her arm around a younger woman who had a warm, sincere smile and gentle, radiant eyes. Aria.

He picked it up, his thumb tracing the edges of the photo. He then picked up Maria's phone, which was lying next to the Bible, and scrolled through her gallery. He found countless pictures and selfies Aria had sent her mother, each a glimpse of a bright, innocent life. She was beautiful, even in the slightly blurred image and naive. Her sparkling eyes, her gentle features—she was light. And he was darkness. How would someone of light survive in his world, let alone in his house? The idea created a jarring conflict within his usually disciplined thoughts. He wasn't a caretaker. He was a leader, a murderer, a man who issued commands, not comfort.

He had sent Viktor to track down Rico and the remnants of Santino’s team, leaving Dominic to collect Aria himself.

On the drive to Milan, the Maserati humming smoothly as it devoured the distance, Dominic gazed at the photo in his hand. This woman in the picture, Maria’s pride and joy, was clearly all that Maria had described: reserved, gentle, peaceful, and intelligent. He could see the slender, elegant shape of her body, the hint of a nice figure beneath her simple clothes even in the faded photo. She seemed too innocent, too pure.

She’s light, he thought again, the contrast striking. And I am darkness. Two complete opposites.

Dominic Lugard reminded himself that this was simply a job. He had made a vow. His task was to rescue her from harm, bring her to the safety of his walls, and ensure her survival. Nothing more, nothing less. She would stay out of his business, and he would stay out of hers. There wouldn't be any complications. He, Dominic Lugard, did not involve himself in sentimental attachments. Yet, a strange coil of tension tightened in his chest. Maria had been more than a housekeeper; she was like a mother figure to him, a confidante, and a steady presence amidst the chaos of his life. She had taken care of him since he was a baby, knew everything about his past, and understood the miseries that shaped his coldness. He valued her more than anyone else, and trusted her with secrets he kept from everyone else. For Maria, he had to do this. He owed it to her.

The sleek black Maserati, accompanied by two equally menacing dark gray SUVs, smoothly passed through the decorative metal gates of the University of Milan. The low rumble of their engines, like a quiet, threatening growl, disrupted the calm atmosphere of the main yard. Students, relaxing on the lawn with books and drinks, stopped what they were doing. The sound of voices disappeared. Murmurs spread through the crowd like a wave of nervousness. Campus guards, caught off guard, glanced between the expensive, unfamiliar vehicles and each other, unsure if they should go forward or move away from the obvious, unsettling authority they exuded.

Dominic emerged from the front car with his dark, imposing figure in a in a custom-made dark gray suit. Part of his face was hidden by a dark, simple nose mask, but it wasn't enough to conceal his intense gaze and undeniable power that radiated from him. He didn’t look around, but the area seemed to clear for him anyway. Even the pigeons, normally bold, backed away cautiously, sensing the potential danger in his presence.

"Who... is that?" the student whispered, eyes wide with surprise.

"He looks like a celebrity," another student whispered, completely engrossed.

"No," someone else said quietly, a slight tremble in their voice. "Celebrities don't move like that. He's a ruler or someone dangerous."

Dominic's gaze, sharp and assessing, moved smoothly across the crowd, searching. He held a picture of Maria's Aria in his head. Based on the pictures he saw on Maria’s phone, Aria had bright eyes, soft brown, rimmed with steady resolve, eyes that could offer comfort.

He spotted her almost immediately.

Aria Catalano exhaled softly, stretching her slender arms above her head as she stepped out of the Anatomy Wing. The air still smelled faintly of formalin and sterilized instruments from her last practical, but the fresh Milan breeze was a welcome relief. Her dark hair was braided loosely down her back, and her backpack held her notebook, filled with neat sketches from the day's lab work. She had just performed exceptionally well on the anatomy practical, earning a rare sign of satisfaction from her strict professor for her precise dissection skills.

At twenty-two, Aria was one of the top students in her department, a dedicated student known for tutoring struggling peers and rescuing stray cats from the campus grounds. She enjoyed listening to violin music, preferred a small circle of friends. Her life was organized, reliable, and centered on the quiet pursuit of learning, a sharp contrast to her attractive appearance, which she rarely paid attention to. She rarely thought about her graceful figure, as her mind was always on her studies.

She was halfway across the central quad, heading towards her dorm, when the atmosphere around her suddenly shifted. The usual murmur of student conversation faded. People stopped and looked. A wave of nervous silence spread across the open space, drawing her attention.

Her eyes, filled with curiosity and confusion, traced the direction of their gazes. And then she noticed him. Not knowing who he was specifically. She felt his intense, unsettling stare, the unusual, strong presence that made her feel instinctively uneasy.

He approached her directly, his quiet intensity making the other students, still reeling from whatever had just happened, almost move aside. He carried himself with an easy confidence, like he was in complete control, even though he clearly didn't belong in this quiet, scholarly environment. A strange coldness seemed to emanate from him, despite the warm sunshine.

He studied Aria's face, trying to figure out the best way to tell her. He was a man of few words, naturally straightforward. He didn't know how to sugarcoat tragedy.

Aria’s brow furrowed. She took a step back, confusion clouding her beautiful features. She was a gentle and reserved person, an introvert who preferred her own company to that of strangers. But this man, with his imposing figure, was making her uncomfortable. His actions felt like an unwelcome intrusion, a disruption of her peaceful day.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice soft but holding a firmness that was unusual for someone she didn't know.

Dominic’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes cold and hard. He lowered his voice, the rough sound easily heard over the noise of the quad. “I am Dominic Lugard. Your mother was my housekeeper. She is… dead.”

Aria stared at him, a nervous, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. "Dead?" she repeated, the word sounding strange coming from her. "What are you talking about? My mother calls me every day. She’s fine. This… this isn’t funny." She said, her gentle face hardening with a flash of anger. “Seriously, this prank is way out of line. Who are you to come here and tell me such ridiculous lies? Is this some kind of game to you?" Her usually composed personality struggled against a sudden wave of fury, holding back the urge to slap the arrogant expression off his attractive face.

Dominic's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath his skin. He wasn't used to being challenged so directly, particularly not by someone so seemingly inexperienced. He was a man who commanded fear, whose words were law. But he couldn't forget Maria's final request, the solemn promise he had made. He needed to stay calm. He had to be understanding, even with this frustratingly naive young woman. He needed to demonstrate something to her.

Slowly, Dominic reached into his inner jacket pocket. He took out his phone and showed her a photo. It was Maria. She was lying on a cold marble floor, eyes closed, with a calm smile on her face. There was a dark bloodstain spreading across her plain yellow dress. She was dead.

He held out the phone to Aria, the photo clear and impossible to ignore. The picture made the truth impossible to deny.

Aria stared intently at the screen. Her face went pale as she gasped for air. The busy lab, the bright lights, the distant student conversations – all blurred into a background hum. Her world, which had only just begun to recover from the initial shock, now completely collapsed. The image on the screen was a brutal, undeniable truth.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the phone, but her arm fell limp. The hallway spun around her, and her vision became blurred.

Dominic moved quickly, his arms catching her just before her slender body hit the polished concrete floor.