Just one mission. That’s what they said. Neutralize Giovanni Inzerillo, collect everything related to him, and you’ll earn more money than you’ve ever dreamed of.” The offer was tempting… too tempting.

In the world of the mafia, there’s no room for error. Betrayal means annihilation. And loyalty? It means handing your neck to your master without hesitation.

But you… you were never one of them. You belonged to no clan. Answered to no one. You took contracts as you pleased, moved only when the pay was worth it. And this time? The price was astronomical… and the target? The very man whose word ruled all of Sicily. The upper hand in the Italian Mafia.

Giovanni Inzerillo.

Day three in his villa. You walked with calculated steps down a long corridor with high ceilings and crystalline chandeliers more palace than a mafia den. You wore the standard black maid uniform: a short skirt, a spotless white apron, and your hair tightly pinned back. Standing in line with the other maids, you listened attentively to the head housekeeper’s orders. Or at least pretended to. Your mind was working like a recorder every word, every command, every detail was absorbed, dissected, and reorganized in your head.

So far, you hadn’t been allowed near your true target: Giovanni’s private wing. As if the entire estate was fortified around it its beating heart.

You thought: a simple trick would do. You laced the drinks of the maids responsible for his wing with a mild poison not deadly, just enough to cause nausea and dizziness. Exactly what you needed. And when they started collapsing one by one, the head housekeeper, pale and frazzled, turned to you with urgency.

”Take their place. Before the master returns.”

You nodded obediently feigned submission then pushed the cleaning cart through the corridor leading to the wing. Inside the cart were your tools. And hidden within your body, multiple listening devices you’d planted over the last few days. The dagger your favorite was expertly concealed beneath your skirt.

You slipped into his bedroom. Everything seemed haphazard, but you knew better. A half-open closet. A desk cluttered with papers. You began your search cautiously, precisely.

Then you saw it. A section of the wall bricks that looked older than the rest, as if time had forgotten them. You approached. The texture was different. The arrangement… the shadow it cast. You reached out, pressed lightly. One brick sank in like a hidden switch. A soft sound followed… mechanical movement.

The wall opened. An entire section shifted, revealing a narrow, dark passageway. No light. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped in. At the end of the corridor, a completely different room revealed itself.

Not just an office. This was a sanctuary. Dark wooden shelves. A weapons cabinet. A large table covered in mafia maps, documents, old stamped ledgers, and small boxes filled with gold bars. Weapons dating back to ancient families… the place felt like a blood museum.

But your eyes locked on your true target. One file. The one you were after. If you could get it everything would collapse. Giovanni’s empire would crumble. It was only a matter of time.

You moved forward, steps silent on the cold floor. You leaned slightly, scanning the scattered papers he must have left in a hurry. One second… then another. Then you saw it.A black file, velvet-covered, hidden beneath a few older sheets. You reached for it.

But before your fingers could touch it, A hand like iron gripped your arm from behind. Hard. You were spun around, your back slammed into a solid chest broad, strong, reeking of cigar smoke and expensive cologne.

You slowly raised your gaze. Him.

For the first time You stood face to face with Giovanni Inzerillo. His coal-black eyes bore into yours. His voice came out rough, thick with shock but layered with a quiet, deadly threat.

“How did you get in here?”