Chapter 1 The Night Everything Died
Rain hammered against the windows like bullets from the sky.
Elena Rossi tightened her coat as she hurried down the empty street, her heels splashing through puddles while cold wind whipped her dark curls across her face. The city looked different at night—darker, crueller. Neon lights flickered above bars and casinos while distant sirens echoed through the streets.
Her shift at the restaurant had ended two hours late again.
Exhaustion dragged heavily through her body, but all she could think about was home.
About her father.
About the overdue bills stacked on the kitchen table.
About the strange men who had come asking questions last week.
A knot tightened in her stomach.
Something felt wrong.
As Elena reached her small family house, she froze.
The front door was open.
Her heartbeat stopped.
Slowly, carefully, she stepped inside.
The house was destroyed.
Broken glass covered the floor. Chairs were overturned. Picture frames lay shattered against the wall. Her mother’s favourite vase had been smashed into pieces.
And then she heard it.
Crying.
“Please… please, I can explain…”
Her father.
Elena rushed toward the living room and stopped so suddenly her breath caught in her throat.
Men dressed in black suits stood around the room like shadows. Armed. Silent. Dangerous.
And in the centre of them sat a man.
Calm.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
He lounged in their old chair like he owned the world, one hand resting against the armrest while the other held a glass of whiskey.
Dark eyes lifted slowly toward her.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Elena knew exactly who he was before anyone spoke his name.
Dante Marino.
The Devil of New York.
The man whispered in fear.
The mafia king nobody dared cross.
Her father was on his knees in front of him, bruised and trembling.
“Elena…” her father choked out weakly.
She rushed toward him, but one of Dante’s men blocked her path instantly.
“Move,” she snapped.
The bodyguard didn’t even blink.
Dante studied her quietly, his expression unreadable.
For several long seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dante finally set down his glass.
“You’re prettier than I expected.”
Elena’s stomach twisted.
The calmness in his voice terrified her more than shouting ever could.
“What do you want from us?” she demanded.
Her voice shook despite her effort to sound brave.
Dante leaned back slightly.
“Your father owes me five million dollars.”
Elena looked down at her father in horror.
“What?”
Tears streamed down his face.
“I tried to fix it,” he whispered brokenly. “I thought I could win it back…”
Gambling.
The realisation hit her like a slap.
Again.
Her father had promised he stopped months ago.
Dante’s cold gaze returned to Elena.
“Unfortunately,” he said smoothly, “I dislike being robbed.”
“We don’t have that kind of money,” Elena said immediately.
“I know.”
Thunder cracked outside.
Dante slowly stood to his feet.
Tall.
Powerful.
Deadly.
The air itself seemed to shift around him.
Elena hated the fact that fear crawled under her skin as he drew closer.
He stopped directly in front of her.
Close enough for her to smell the expensive cologne and sense the danger.
His eyes moved slowly over her face.
Not lustfully.
Calculatingly.
Like a man making a decision.
“Which leaves us with another solution,” he murmured.
Elena swallowed hard.
“What solution?”
Dante looked at her father first.
Then back at her.
And smiled slightly.
It was the kind of smile that belonged to devils.
“You marry me.”
Silence.
Elena stared at him.
Certainly, she heard wrong.
“What?”
Her father began sobbing harder.
“No—please—”
“You don’t get to negotiate anymore,” Dante said coldly without looking at him.
Elena’s chest rose rapidly with panic.
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
“You can’t force me to marry you.”
Dante stepped even closer.
“So refuse.”
The room went deadly quiet.
One of the guards pulled out a gun.
Her father cried out in terror.
Elena’s blood turned to ice.
“Stop!”
Dante never looked away from her.
“Marry me,” he said calmly, “or watch your father die tonight.”
Her breathing shattered.
This couldn’t be real.
This had to be a nightmare.
But the gun was real.
The fear in her father’s eyes was real.
And Dante Marino…
was terrifyingly real.
Elena looked into the eyes of the most dangerous man in the city and realised something horrifying.
He wasn’t bluffing.
Dante tilted his head slightly.
“You have twenty-four hours to decide, Elena.”
Then he leaned down near her ear.
His voice dropped low and deadly.
“But understand this carefully…”
A shiver ran through her body.
“If you run,” he whispered, “I’ll still find you.”
He pulled away slowly.
Then Dante adjusted his suit jacket and walked toward the door while his men followed behind him like obedient wolves.
Before leaving, he glanced back once.
That cold gaze locked onto hers.
Possessive.
I'm interested.
Dangerously calm.
And then he was gone.
The front door slammed shut.
Elena stood frozen in the destroyed living room while rain thundered outside.
Her father collapsed crying at her feet.
But Elena barely heard him.
Because only one thought echoed through her mind now.
The Devil wanted her.
And somehow…
Her life had just ended
