PROLOGUE
It was a bloodbath.
They wouldn't stop shooting.
He could feel his own blood trickling down his shirt, warm and sticky, soaking through the fabric. Where was he hit?
He couldn't remember. His senses were blurring, swallowed by gunfire and screams.
"Non lasciarli scappare! Ucciderli tutti!...
Don't let them escape! Kill them all!" someone shouted behind him, the voice harsh, commanding, echoing through the smoke.
He staggered toward a narrow path between two collapsing walls. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to move. His mind kept flashing back to his friend's face… the glassy eyes, the crimson pooling around him.
Three shots to his head!
"Dios Mio, these men are heartless."
Gunshots cracked through the air again.
The sound was deafening, a violent symphony of chaos and betrayal.
His head was spinning.
He could feel the weight of exhaustion dragging him down, darkness creeping at the edges of his vision.
But he couldn't stop. Not yet.
He pressed forward, stumbling into the night, adrenaline the only thing keeping him upright.
The gunfire grew distant. The shouting turned into whispers.
"Signore…?" a voice called…softer this time, uncertain.
He turned, just enough to see the shadow of a man approaching. Then the world tilted, his knees buckled, and everything went black.
CHAPTER ONE
Sofia's World
Certain secrets are rather left uncovered. Secrets that could disrupt your peace and make you live in fear all your life.
The sooner you learn to lock them away…deep, silent, untouchable…the longer you can pretend your world is normal.
Mine is one of those secrets.
Because with the kind of family I come from there is always a spider lurking in the shadows…spinning a web you can never truly escape.
I know what my father does…not in detail, but enough to know I don't want to be part of it. AM Crisis is my clean slate. Maybe not morally right to some, but business is business, and I call the shots.
I am Sofia Russo, CEO of AM Crisis Consulting, a law firm that cleans up the messes of the rich and powerful. Politicians. CEOs. The rich who need their scandals erased before sunrise. Some call us the refuge of the wealthy.
I like to think of it as balance — they build chaos, I contain it.
Mornings at AM Crisis Consulting started early.
By eight-thirty, the office was already humming — phones ringing, printers warming up, someone laughing too loudly near the espresso machine. But to be honest, I like it this way — the rhythm, the sound of people that needed me.
Five years. That's how long it had taken to build this life — my company, my reputation, my rules.
My phone buzzes, I pick it up to see who it is.
"Daddy!" I squeal.
"Hey Sofie, how are you? You've forgotten your old man." Dad asks, his voice accusatory.
"Dad, you know I'd never. You're all I've got." I said smiling.
He chuckles softly. "I was wondering if we could talk – just something small about the company. Nothing serious. I know I promised not to pry anymore, but a little suggestion won't hurt."
Now, here's the thing about my father. He never called during work hours unless there was a problem and nothing he ever says is small.
"What's going on dad?" I asked with curiosity. "And please don't say you've found me another financial advisor. I still haven't recovered from the last one."
Don Giovanni Russo laughed. "Mio tesoro, this one is different," he said in that thick Italian accent that always, somehow, managed to calm me.
Unlike other dons, Giovanni loved his daughter deeply and treated her no less than a son. He would never let any harm come to her as long as he breathed. His beloved wife, Francesca, had died giving birth to Sofia, and from that day, he'd sworn to protect her — even from his own world.
There was trouble brewing among the other mafia families, and he knew they'd come after Sofia to get to him. But he wouldn't tell her that. She didn't know about his ties to the Mafia, and he intended to keep it that way.
He continued, his tone soft but insistent. "I just thought I'd lend a hand. I ran into an old acquaintance — an ex-military man doing private consultancy now. Smart, reliable. Someone who can help you with risk management or… whatever you fancy."
"Risk management?" I echoed, spinning my pen between my fingers. "Dad, AM Crisis already has a full security team. I don't need—"
"You don't need, I know," he cut in gently. "But it wouldn't hurt to have another pair of eyes. This man knows how to keep things running quietly. Think of him as… an extra precaution."
"You know I'm doing fine," I said softly. "I've been doing fine for years."
"Of course you have," he said, and I could almost hear his smile. "I'm proud of you, mio tesoro. I just want you safe, that's all."
There was a pause — long enough for me to realize the conversation was over before I could argue further.
"He'll drop by your office tomorrow," my father added. "Just to introduce himself. Give him a chance, hmm?"
I sighed, sinking back into my chair. An ex-military man doing consultancy work. I could already see the type — disciplined, quiet, probably allergic to small talk and allergic to me.
"Sure, Dad. Send him over," I said finally. "But no promises."
"Fair enough," he said, amusement lacing his voice. "He's good, you'll see."
The line clicked, and the office noise rushed back in — the hum of printers, footsteps against marble, the faint hiss of espresso.
I stared at the phone for a moment longer than I should have. My father's calls always left a shadow behind, like smoke that clung to everything it touched.
A knock at the door pulled me back.
"Come in," I said.
It was Danielle, my assistant — efficient and sharp. She held a tablet and two coffee cups. "Morning, boss. You've got a nine-thirty with Mr. Hargrove from Atlantic PR. And a reminder — the investors' luncheon is at two."
I groaned softly. "Cancel the luncheon. Tell them I'm saving the world from a scandal and need divine focus."
She smirked. "They won't like that."
"They never do."
Clara set down the coffee. "Oh — and a message came through your father's line. Said someone named Mr. Kane will be stopping by tomorrow?"
I froze. "Kane?"
"Yeah. He didn't say what it was about. Should I clear your morning schedule?"
"No," I said quickly. "Just… slot him in after ten a.m. That'll be fine."
"Got it." She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "You okay? You look… tense."
I gave her a small smile. "I'm fine my dear."
When she left, I sank into my chair again, staring at the skyline.
Mr. Kane.
"Who was this man? I guess I'll find out tomorrow."