CHAPTER 1 — The Night She Was Taken
The storm did not arrive quietly.
It tore across the night like a warning.
Thunder cracked open the sky, spilling violent streaks of lightning over the city below. Rain followed—heavy, relentless—drenching the streets, flooding the gutters, washing away footprints that would never be traced.
But there were some sins no storm could erase.
At the far edge of the city stood an estate wrapped in shadows and power.
The De Santis estate.
A fortress disguised as luxury.
Tall iron gates stood like silent guards, their sharp edges glistening under the rain. Beyond them stretched a long, winding driveway, lined with trimmed hedges and statues that watched like ghosts from another era.
Inside, everything was calm.
Too calm.
The kind of silence that only existed before violence.
Luca De Santis stood at the center of it.
He didn't pace.
Didn't fidget.
Didn't speak.
He simply stood.
Still.
Watching the rain fall through the massive glass windows of his study, his reflection staring back at him—cold, sharp, unreadable.
Power radiated from him effortlessly.
Not loud. Not forced.
Just there.
Like a shadow that never left.
Behind him, the door opened quietly.
"Everything is in position."
Enzo.
Luca didn't turn.
"How many?" he asked.
"More than usual," Enzo replied carefully. "Marcus isn't holding back tonight."
At the name, something shifted.
Not on Luca's face.
But in the air.
Marcus Voss.
The only man who had ever come close to matching him.
The only man who had ever made him feel—
No.
Luca cut the thought off before it could form.
Feelings were weaknesses.
And he had buried those a long time ago.
"Let him come," Luca said finally.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
Enzo stepped further into the room, watching him closely.
"There's something else."
That made Luca turn.
Slowly.
"What?"
"Marcus has a child."
Silence fell like a blade.
The storm outside seemed to pause.
Even the thunder held its breath.
Luca's eyes darkened slightly.
"How old?"
"A few weeks. Maybe less."
For a moment—
There was nothing.
No reaction.
No anger.
No surprise.
Then Luca walked past Enzo toward the bar, pouring himself a drink with steady hands.
Crystal clinked softly.
Ice cracked.
The sound echoed louder than it should have.
"A child…" Luca repeated, almost to himself.
Memories flickered.
Unwanted.
Uninvited.
Dangerous.
A woman's laughter.
Soft hands.
Warm eyes.
Gone.
His grip tightened around the glass.
And just like that—
The moment was over.
"Then he has something to lose," Luca said coldly.
Enzo watched him carefully.
"You're thinking of using it."
Luca turned.
And this time—
There was no hesitation in his eyes.
"No."
A pause.
Then—
"I'm thinking of sending a message."
Enzo didn't need to ask what kind.
He already knew.
Across the City
The Voss estate stood in sharp contrast.
Less refined.
More guarded.
Like a place built for war rather than wealth.
Inside, Marcus Voss stood near a window, the storm reflecting in his dark eyes.
In his arms—
A baby.
Wrapped in white.
Small.
Fragile.
Unaware of the world she had been born into.
Her cries were soft.
But persistent.
Marcus looked down at her.
For a brief moment…
Something human flickered in his expression.
Something almost… gentle.
"She has her mother's eyes," a voice said behind him.
Marcus didn't turn.
"I know."
Footsteps approached.
"Scouts confirmed movement. De Santis men are closing in."
That was enough to break the moment.
The softness vanished.
Replaced by steel.
"Get the perimeter ready," Marcus said.
"And double the guards."
"And the child?"
Marcus hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then he handed the baby to a maid.
"Take her to the west wing," he said. "No one goes in or out without my order."
The maid nodded quickly, clutching the child tightly.
"Yes, sir."
As she hurried away, the baby cried louder.
Echoing through the halls.
Marcus watched her go.
His jaw tightening.
"They won't touch her," he said quietly.
But whether he was convincing his men…
Or himself—
Even he didn't know.
The Attack Begins
It started with a single gunshot.
Sharp.
Loud.
Final.
Then—
Chaos.
Glass shattered.
Men shouted.
Bullets tore through walls, furniture, flesh.
The estate erupted into violence, the storm outside now a distant echo compared to the war within.
The maid ran.
Heart pounding.
Breath uneven.
The baby clutched tightly against her chest.
"Shhh… please…" she whispered desperately.
But fear doesn't listen.
And neither does fate.
She turned a corner—
And stopped.
A man stood there.
Tall.
Dressed in black.
Gun raised.
One of Luca's soldiers.
"No…" she whispered, backing away.
"Please… she's just a baby…"
The man didn't respond.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't care.
"Give her to me."
Tears streamed down the maid's face.
She shook her head.
"Please…"
A single step forward.
The sound of the gun clicking.
And just like that—
Hope died.
The baby was taken.
Her cries fading as she was carried away into darkness.
Too Late
Marcus reached the hallway seconds later.
Too late.
The maid collapsed at his feet, sobbing.
"They took her… they took her…"
Marcus froze.
For a moment—
He couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Then slowly…
Very slowly…
He looked down at the empty space where his child should have been.
Something inside him broke.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Silently.
Completely.
"Luca…" he whispered.
The name wasn't just a name anymore.
It was a promise.
Back at the De Santis Estate
The doors opened.
A man stepped inside, holding a small bundle.
The baby had stopped crying.
Exhaustion had taken over.
Luca turned.
His gaze landing on the child.
For the first time that night—
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then he stepped closer.
"Mission complete," the man said.
Luca reached out, pulling the blanket back slightly.
And saw her face.
Small.
Delicate.
Innocent.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Something unfamiliar.
Gone as quickly as it came.
"What now?" Enzo asked.
Luca straightened.
His expression hardening once more.
"Send a message," he said.
"Make sure Marcus knows."
His voice dropped.
Cold.
Final.
"That I took what matters most."