Chapter 1: Strangers in the dark

The black-haired man moved with calculated precision, his every step purposeful, his dark eyes scanning the chaos with lethal efficiency. Luca Moretti wasn't just another enforcer in the underworld—he was its prince, the heir to one of the most feared crime families in the city. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that seemed out of place amid the gunfire, he exuded a quiet authority that commanded respect. People obeyed him. Feared him. And when he gave an order, it was carried out without question.

But tonight, amidst the shadows of the docks, he wasn't just a leader.

He was a hunter.

And he had just caught sight of something—or rather, someone—he hadn't expected.

Across the chaos, a figure moved like a phantom, weaving through the fight with an unsettling grace.

The green-eyed woman was fast, dangerously precise, her black hair whipping behind her as she maneuvered through gunfire like she belonged in the storm. Isabella Rossi. She wasn't just another enemy. She was one of the most feared enforcers in the Rossi family.

Her face was sharp yet deceptively soft, an oval-shaped mask of deadly beauty. But behind that beauty was something far more dangerous—a woman who had survived too much to be taken down easily.

And now, for the first time, Luca and Isabella had found themselves in the same fight. Neither knew the other's identity.

But both recognized one thing:

The person standing in their way was no ordinary opponent.

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The city never slept.

Under the glow of neon signs and flickering streetlights, Luca Moretti moved through the back alleys of downtown Ravena, his steps quick but calculated. The distant hum of sirens mixed with the ever-present noise of the underworld—gunfire in the distance, the low murmur of illegal deals, the sound of power shifting hands.

He adjusted the grip on his pistol, the cool metal a familiar weight in his hand. This was supposed to be a simple job. A silent exchange at the docks.

But in the mafia world, nothing stayed simple for long.

From his hidden vantage point, he spotted the target—a group of armed men unloading crates from an unmarked van. Weapons shipment.

But something was off.

His contact was supposed to be here. Instead, the men seemed uneasy, their hands twitching over their guns. Waiting.

For what?

Then—a single shot rang out.

Chaos erupted.

Isabella Rossi pressed herself against the cold steel of a shipping container, her breath steady despite the firefight breaking out around her.

Her gloved fingers adjusted the suppressor on her pistol. This wasn't her first ambush. And it wouldn't be her last.

Her intel had been correct—Moretti's men were here.

The Rossi family had waited months for this opportunity. A shipment like this meant power, leverage. She had to ensure it didn't reach their enemies.

From her position, she watched as one figure moved differently from the rest—calm, controlled, precise.

A professional.

She narrowed her eyes. 'Who the hell is that?'

A shadow in the chaos, moving through gunfire like a ghost.

He wasn't one of the usual Moretti thugs.

He was something else.

And that made him dangerous.

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Luca spotted movement. Fast, efficient.

Not one of the armed men.

Someone else was here.

A rival gang? A hired killer?

No time for questions.

Luca moved—his instincts taking over as he fired, forcing the shadow to retreat behind cover.

But before he could reposition, a bullet grazed past his shoulder.

"Shit."

His grip tightened on his gun. Whoever they were, they had skill.

No wasted movement. No hesitation.

A worthy opponent.

From the other side, Isabella smirked.

'You're good. But not good enough.'

She moved fast, cutting through the fight like a blade, her boots silent against the wet pavement.

She fired—a warning shot, meant to throw him off.

Instead, he dodged.

Too fast.

Their eyes met across the chaos—brief, unreadable.

Neither knowing who the other was.

Both sensing this was only the beginning.

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The gunfire had slowed, but the tension was razor-sharp.

Luca shifted his grip on his pistol, keeping his eyes on the shadowed figure moving like a ghost between the shipping containers.

Whoever they were, they weren't just another street thug.

They had training. Precision. A level of skill that told him they were dangerous.

Isabella, hidden behind cover, studied him just as carefully.

The way he moved—effortless, deadly, controlled—sent a chill down her spine.

"Who the hell is this person?"

Neither of them knew but both of them refused to back down.

And that was how the real fight began.

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Isabella struck first.

A single gunshot, aimed at Luca's leg—a calculated move, meant to disable, not kill.

But Luca moved like lightning, twisting out of the way.

"Too fast."

He fired back, but Isabella had already disappeared into the shadows.

A moment of silence.

Then—she was on him.

She burst from the side, using the environment to her advantage, leaping onto a metal crate and kicking off, her knee aimed straight for his ribs.

Luca barely had time to react before her full weight slammed into him.

He staggered but didn't fall.

Instead, he used the momentum—grabbing her wrist mid-air and twisting her body, flipping her over his shoulder.

She hit the ground, rolling instantly back to her feet.

Their eyes locked.

Their breathing was heavy, muscles coiled like predators sizing each other up.

Neither willing to give an inch.

And neither realizing just who they were fighting.

Before either of them could make their next move, the sound of approaching sirens shattered the silence.

Both of them cursed internally.

The police had been tipped off.

Staying here meant getting caught—something neither of them could afford.

Luca lunged first, aiming to knock her back—just enough to buy himself an opening to escape.

Isabella, anticipating his move, countered with a sharp elbow to his ribs, forcing him to stumble back.

She took the chance—grabbing his wrist and slashing her knife across the back of his hand.

Just enough to leave a mark.

Just enough to say "I won this round."

Luca gritted his teeth, but before he could strike back—

She was gone.

Disappearing into the night like a phantom.

He looked down at the shallow cut on his hand, blood seeping slowly from the wound. He smirked.

"Whoever you are… I'll find you again."

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Luca returned to his family's hideout, stepping into the dimly lit, smoke-filled room where his father—Ricardo Moretti—sat at the head of a long table. The air was thick with tension. His father's dark gaze landed on him instantly. "The deal went bad?"

Luca exhaled, tossing his bloodied gloves onto the table. "Someone interfered."

One of the older men grunted. "The Rossi family?" Luca's eyes darkened. "Most likely."

Ricardo leaned forward. "Then we end them."

His father's words were always simple, final.

"Eliminate the problem. No loose ends."

Luca didn't flinch. He knew this was coming.

"The target is their enforcer," Ricardo continued. "She's been getting in our way for months. She dies first."

A name was passed down the table.

Luca reached for the file without hesitation.

But when he opened it—

His world stopped.

His pulse froze.

Isabella Rossi.

The woman he had once loved.

The woman he had never truly let go of.

And now?

He was ordered to kill her.

Looking at the back of his bandaged hand, he realized.

Isabella.

Of all people, it had to be her.

For a brief moment, the pain in his wound faded, replaced by something sharper—the sting of fate's cruel joke.