The afternoon sun hadn’t yet warmed the streets of Florence, but Aria could already feel the weight of the day pressing down on her chest.

Sunlight streamed softly through the large windows of the exclusive hospital room. Aria lay motionless on a bed far too luxurious for someone like her. The sheets were snow-white, and the room was quiet. A drip line was connected to her arm, slowly delivering cold fluid. This wasn't a regular hospital room; the peaceful silence and immaculate appearance suggested it was a VIP suite, far beyond anything she'd ever seen.

Her head was pounding, and a wave of memory of what happened in the morning crashed over her and then the picture of her mother's lifeless face displayed on his phone. The abrupt, disorienting plunge into unconsciousness. Now she found herself in this strange, silent room, with the faint smell of disinfectant mingling with the delicate fragrance of lilies.

But what had happened? How had her mother died? She questioned, warm tears rolling down her face.

She had been Aria’s whole world. A kind, hardworking woman who raised her daughter with patience and books instead of toys, with dreams of a life beyond the shadows of the rich families she worked for.

But Maria's life ended violently. She died protecting someone Aria didn't even know—Dominic Moretti. The name was familiar to Aria, though only whispered. People talked about him like he was a legend: influential, menacing, beyond reach. Aria never suspected her mother worked for someone like that, or that she would sacrifice herself for him.

The hospital doors slid open behind her, and Aria flinched at the sudden sound of polished shoes hitting the pavement.

She turned.

And there he was.

Tall, immaculately dressed in a black suit with a dark overcoat thrown over his shoulders like a second skin, Dominic Moretti moved with quiet authority. He looked nothing like the monsters Aria had imagined. He was captivating, almost overwhelmingly attractive, with defined features and a sharp, calculating gaze that revealed nothing of his thoughts.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something terrifying about how calm he was He seemed like a man so familiar with danger that he was beyond being startled by anything.

“Miss Aria?” he asked, his voice low but clear.

Aria nodded slowly, not trusting her voice.

“I’m Dominic Moretti. Your mother worked for me for over fifteen years. She…” He paused, his jaw tightening. “She died protecting me. And before she passed, she made me promise to look after you.”

Aria's heart ached. Her throat burned, but she refused to cry in front of him.

“I didn’t ask for protection,” she said, forcing the words out. “I don’t need charity.”

“It’s not charity,” he replied without missing a beat. “It’s a promise.”

She shook her head. “I’m old enough to take care of myself,” she stated, her voice firm. “I’m fine alone and besides my mother wouldn't want me living in some mansion full of criminals.”

For the first time, something flickered in Dominic’s expression. Was it amusement? Sadness? She couldn’t tell.

“You think you have a choice?” he said, not unkindly. “Your mother took a bullet for me. That act draws attention. The attackers, the Vescari, they will investigate her, track down her family. Once they find out about you, they will definitely come for you.”

Her stomach sank.

"I didn't want this," she whispered.

"Nobody does," he replied, his voice now soft. "But if you want to live, you come with me. Now."

Aria’s body went cold. She wasn’t stupid. She knew enough to recognize a threat when she heard one—subtle, but absolute.

Before she could say anything, a phone rang, breaking the quiet of the room. Dominic pulled out a black phone. He looked at it quickly, and something – maybe worry – flashed across his face.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice curt. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked out of the ward, the door clicking softly shut behind him, leaving Aria alone once more.

Aria's eyes were fixed on the shut door. His words kept replaying in her head: "You're already a target." Her ordinary life, once filled with studies and peaceful moments, had become something completely different, tangled up with family history and risky commitments. The world she knew was no more, replaced by rumors of criminal organizations and the harsh truth of her mother's passing. She didn't trust Dominic Moretti, couldn't trust someone whose life revolved around violence. Yet, something deep down told her to pay attention, to try and figure out exactly what she was getting involved in.

Her gaze fell to the IV drip in her hand. She pulled the needle out quickly, feeling a little pain she ignored. She swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet meeting the cool, tiled floor. Moving with a quietness she didn’t know she possessed, she crept towards the door, pressing her ear to the cold wood.

Aria could now clearly hear Dominic's deep, rough voice. He wasn't shouting, but the strength behind his words was unmistakable. "...Yes, Viktor. What did you discover...?” He paused. "...Excellent. Are they restrained?" Another pause followed, the silence on his end thick with tension.

Then, Dominic's voice lowered, becoming harsh and filled with a frightening anger. Each word landed like a physical blow. "Lock them up in the dungeon. Torture them. Make sure you keep them alive till I come."

Aria stiffened, paralyzed with fear. Her blood ran cold. Dungeon. Torture. Keep them alive till I come. The words painted a horrifying picture in her mind, a glimpse into the true, terrifying nature of the man who now held her life in his hands.

Just then, the door was abruptly pushed open. Dominic stood in the doorway, his hand still on the handle, his gaze flicking from the phone to her. Aria, who was still pressed against the door, lurched forward, her head colliding sharply with his chest. They both looked surprised and utterly shocked.