Chapter 1
The world had always been quieter for Seraphina.
Not broken—just different.
Inside the small café where she worked part-time, the chatter of customers blended into a blur she couldn’t hear. What she did notice were the things other people missed: the twitch of a nervous hand, the way someone’s eyes darted too quickly to the door, the little cracks in the mask people wore every day.
She sat at the back table during her break, sketchbook open, pencil moving. Drawing was her language, the only one that flowed without hesitation. Today, she wasn’t sketching flowers or the customers who lingered over coffee. Today, her eyes had caught something else—a group of men in expensive suits outside, stepping out of a sleek black car.
They moved like shadows, precise, deliberate. One of them stood apart: tall, sharp in a tailored coat, dark eyes scanning the street like he owned it. Even without sound, Seraphina could feel the weight of his presence. He was danger wrapped in elegance.
Her pencil traced his outline almost before she realized it.
But then those dark eyes turned—straight at her.
Seraphina froze, heart hammering in her chest. He had noticed.
The man didn’t look away. He tilted his head slightly, as if curious, before one of his men leaned in to whisper something. The moment broke, but not the chill running down her spine.
She shut her sketchbook too quickly, shoving it into her bag. Whoever he was, she didn’t want to remember his face on paper.
What Seraphina didn’t know was that Lorenzo Romano, the most feared mafia boss in the city, never forgot a face.
And now—he would never forget her's.
