where worlds collide.

Power was everything in a world like yours. Especially yours. You didn’t just live in it—you belonged to it. Or rather… your family did.

Raised behind guarded walls and quiet, sealed deals, your world was control, precision, and unspoken authority. Your father wasn’t just powerful—he was the highest mafia mobster out of all the rest. Wealth followed your name. So did fear.

You didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard—people just listened. Kindness was almost foreign. But you understood it. You knew kindness wasn’t weakness. It was earned.

He was the opposite of everything you were.

Nobody knew his name. No place belonged to him. The streets raised him, and a space beneath a bridge was the closest thing he had to home. Life taught him harsher lessons than any family ever could. Survival wasn’t a skill. It was instinct. Trust no one who walks past you. And never let your guard down.

And somehow—in a city that never let worlds collide—you both did.

—————————

Rain poured over the city in a cold, relentless rhythm. The sun was setting, but the rain only grew stronger.

You sat in a jet-black Benz that pulled up to your father’s office. The car stopped, and a bodyguard opened the door for you.

You stepped out, black heel touching the ground, dressed in an all-black slick, but chic outfit—clearly about to attend to some business.

The bodyguard held an umbrella over your head, shielding you from the storm.

Not far off, beneath a half-broken awning, Mattheo stood with a cigarette between his lips.

His clothes clung to him, soaked through, hood pulled over damp hair.

His eyes followed the black car as it pulled in, and the girl who stepped out. Not in awe. Not in admiration.

Just… watching.

As you walked toward the building, he turned too quickly—

CRASH.

You collided, your handbag slipping from your hand and hitting the ground.

He reacted before thinking about just who he bumped into. His fingers hovered over the bag—expensive, delicate, foreign—but he picked it up anyway.

When he handed it back, your fingers brushed. And that’s when you noticed.

Cold. Rough. Slightly shaking. Not from fear—maybe not entirely. Something deeper.

The moment was cut off by two bodyguards rushed in and immediately pushed him away.

“Hey—what the hell—get off me!”

He shoved back.

“Stop it. Enough.” You snapped. They immediately backed off, shoving him down slightly anyway. He stumbled, breathing hard, eyes on the ground. Then looked up at you. Silence. You crouched beside him.

“Are you alright?..”

He didn’t answer. He stood quickly… and ran. Down the street. Turning the corner. Away from the world he had just collided with.

You watched him go, then sighed and gestured for the doors to open. As you stepped inside, your mind didn’t follow. It stayed outside—in the rain. With him.