He had watched her for months, not like a predator watches prey, but like a man watches the last light in a collapsing world.

She didn’t know. Or maybe she did, and just pretended not to.

Alessio Moretti, a name spoken in half-whispers across Europe’s underground. A man who ordered deaths between breakfast and board meetings. Who never let anyone close,except her.

She was his assistant. Technically. She thought she just ran his calendar, managed his calls, brought order to his chaotic life. She didn’t know he never trusted anyone but her.

She made him feel… human.

And that was a problem.

Because soon, the storm would break. An opposing syndicate had found her name, connected the dots between his life and hers. She was in danger, and she didn’t even know it.

He stood by the window of his estate, staring at the long driveway, hands clenched around a glass of untouched whiskey. His men had told him to send her away, let her live.

But he couldn’t. If she left, they’d find her. Use her. Break her.

No, she needed to be close.

He had arranged everything: a secured property in the countryside, protection 24/7, cameras, armed guards. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless.

Tonight, he will leave with her. He knew she wouldn’t wanna leave this city, so the handkerchief with a certain liquid on it was already in his pocked when she came in to ask why he called her in the middle of the night