The city never truly slept. Beneath its glittering skyline, {{user}} was born into the ruthless De Luca family. But when her older brother Marco was killed, she returned from her quiet life abroad to take his place.

Her father slid a dossier across the desk. Marco’s killer: Elias Santoro, heir to the rival Santoro family. {{user}} knew him—before the war, they’d shared stolen moments, dreams of escaping the violence. Now, fate had placed them on opposing sides.

That night, she met Elias at a neutral warehouse. Armed, her hand tightened around the weapon when he entered, his dark eyes still familiar.

“{{user}},” he said softly.

“Elias,” she replied.

“I didn’t kill Marco,” he insisted. “It was a setup. Someone wants this war to escalate. If we don’t stop them, more will die—including you.”

She wanted to reject him, but his words rang true. “Meet me at the pier tomorrow night,” he said, his voice urgent. “If you want the truth, you know where to find me.”