In the heart of Milan, power was everything. Alessandro Morellii had it in spades.
He walked through the grand halls of the Moretti estate, each step echoing like a drumbeat of authority. Servants and guards instinctively bowed or averted their eyes—the heir of the Morelli Empire was not a man to be trifled with.
Outside, the city's cold wind bit sharply, carrying whispers of fear and danger. That's when he saw her.
A young woman stumbled into the courtyard, shivering, clutching her thin coat like it could shield her from the world. Her wide eyes darted around as if the shadows themselves were after her. Fear radiated off her in waves.
Alessandro's gaze narrowed. "What are you doing here?" His voice was calm but carried the weight of command—soft enough to intrigue, sharp enough to warn.
"I… I'm Elena… Elena Rossi," she whispered, barely audible.
A rival gang had cornered her. She was weak, defenseless, terrified—and utterly out of her depth. Yet something about her fragility sparked his attention.
"Why are you here, Elena?" Alessandro asked, stepping closer. The courtyard seemed to shrink around them.
She trembled, unable to meet his eyes. "I… I didn't know where else to go… please…"
Alessandro studied her carefully. In her fear, he saw something most people didn't—the instinct to survive, however faint. A spark of life, barely flickering, but there.
His lips curved slightly, almost imperceptibly. "You're coming with me. Now."
She hesitated, but the authority in his gaze left no room for refusal. As they walked into the grand estate together, the air seemed to hum with unspoken possibilities.
Alessandro knew this much: she would be under his protection now.
And something deep inside him whispered that this fragile girl… would change everything.