The city had a different rhythm at night.
Lights blinked like distant stars trapped in concrete, street lamps cutting jagged rectangles across the sidewalks.The air smelled faintly of smoke and rain, and every sound—footsteps, tires on asphalt, the distant bark of a dog—seemed to announce her presence.
Lila's bag felt heavier than usual as she stepped out into the evening.Each step toward the meeting point made her pulse tighten,each shadow stretching across the alley like a hand reaching for her.
Roman had said she would start lessons....she didn't know what to expect,but she did know one thing:in his world,nothing was optional.
She reached the corner he had specified,and as if he had been waiting for her,he appeared.Roman DeLuca was already there,leaning casually against the sleek black hood of his car.His suit seemed darker under the dim streetlight, and his gaze slid over her like a sharpened blade.
You're on time,he said,his voice smooth,measured,but with a weight that made her chest tighten.
"I…I try,Lila replied,her voice betraying the nervous tremor she tried to hide...Try?" he asked, arching a brow...you don't try,you follow instructions,understood?"
Yes,she said immediately,her throat felt tight,yes, sir,she wanted to add,but she forced herself to stay calm.
He straightened, stepping closer. "Good....Tonight, you observe,you notice details. Your first lesson isn't about fear or fighting—it's about perception....awareness.
He handed her a small notebook,its cover black as midnight,the paper inside was thick,smooth. She flipped it open instinctively.
Take notes, he said"Every detail matters."
Lila nodded,feeling the weight of the notebook in her hands,it felt heavier than its size.Maybe that's the point,she thought.Every word,every observation could be a lifeline—or a death sentence.
They moved together through the streets, the city buzzing with life,oblivious to the silent tension between them.Roman's pace was unhurried,but every movement felt deliberate.His eyes scanned corners,alleyways,the shadows stretching along the brick walls.Every so often,he glanced at her, measuring,assessing,like he could read her as easily as she could read her notebook.
Why are we walking?she asked,trying to sound casual,though her stomach tightened.
To see,he said simply....To understand the city before it understands you."
They passed a narrow street where a group of teenagers loitered,laughter spilling too loudly into the night, careless and unguarded.Roman's gaze flicked toward them,lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary.It was subtle—barely a movement—but it changed everything. The laughter faltered,cutting off mid-sound. Heads turn,the boys shifted on their feet, suddenly uncertain,their bravado dissolving into unease as if they'd sensed something they couldn't name.Lila's pulse spiked as she watched it happen.Roman hadn't said a word,he hadn't even slowed his pace.And yet,somehow,he had been noticed,he notices everything.
She followed his gaze instinctively,noting every detail,the way one boy's hand twitched near his pocket,the subtle shift of the others' weight,tiny signs she would have missed before.
Roman's voice broke her concentration "Write it down,every sign,every movement,forget nothing.
She scribbled quickly, trying to match the pace of her thoughts,every detail Roman pointed out felt like a secret code to a world she didn't fully understand yet.
They turned another corner,and the street narrowed,trash bins leaned against the walls, shadows pooled in the recesses.A single street lamp flickered Lila's heart raced. The alley looked ordinary—but she knew better now. Ordinary streets hid extraordinary danger.
Roman stopped. He leaned against the wall, hands crossed in front of him. His gaze swept the alley, then locked on hers. "See that?"
Lila looked. At first, nothing seemed unusual. Then she noticed it: a pair of eyes, glinting in the dark, barely visible behind a dumpster. They weren't friendly.
"A potential threat," he said. "Most people walk past and never see it. That's how they die."
She nodded, stomach twisting. Roman wasn't exaggerating.
"Now," he continued, "watch carefully."
The figure shifted, almost imperceptibly. Lila's pen flew across the page as she recorded every detail. She realized the man wasn't moving toward them yet. He was testing. Watching. Calculating.
Roman glanced at her, and for the first time, a shadow of something like approval crossed his face. "Good. You see it. That's the first step. Awareness is your first weapon."
Lila felt a strange mixture of pride and fear. Awareness alone wasn't enough—but it was a start.
The man behind the dumpster stepped back, melting into the shadows. Lila didn't breathe until he was gone.
"Lesson two," Roman said, straightening and motioning for her to follow. "Trust no one completely. Never assume safety."
They moved deeper into the alleyways. The city felt alive in a new way—each corner, each shadow, each sound carried meaning. Lila realized her heart didn't calm even for a second. But she also noticed something else: she could track it. She could see patterns forming. She could anticipate movement.
Roman watched her as she wrote, his eyes sharp, unreadable. She sensed approval again—tiny, almost imperceptible—but it was there.
He's testing me. And I'm passing. Maybe.
By the time they returned to the car, the city's neon lights reflected off its hood, painting Roman's face in fractured colors. Lila felt drained but alert, her pen still clutched in her notebook. Every step had been a lesson, every shadow a teacher, every heartbeat a test.
Roman slid into the driver's seat without a word. Lila followed. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. The lessons were done for tonight—but their weight would follow her, like a shadow she couldn't shake.
"Tomorrow, we go further," Roman said finally. "You'll encounter more than shadows. You'll encounter decisions. And every choice counts."
Lila swallowed hard, gripping the notebook like a lifeline. I can do this, she thought. I have to.
The car pulled away, and the city stretched around them like a living puzzle. Lila realized that survival wasn't just about noticing danger—it was about understanding it, predicting it, becoming part of it without losing herself entirely.
She didn't know if she could. But she knew she had to try.