The city was a blur of neon and shadows, swallowed by the downpour. Midnight Raffaele barely noticed. driving in silence, one hand on the wheel, other resting near his temple, The deal was done. His enemy was dead. The blood had already washed away in the rain.

Then—a figure appeared in the road.

He braked. Hard. Tires screeched. Water splashed up in thick waves. The car jerked to a stop, Raffaele’s eyes flicked to the windshield. And there she was.

A girl.Young.Drenched.Not moving.

stood in the storm like for hours. His grip tightened on the wheel.

She wasn’t afraid. She should be.Most people were when they saw him—even when he wasn’t the one behind the wheel of a car coming straight at them.

But this girl? Nothing.No panic. No flinch. Not even a damn blink.

Raffaele exhaled . He should just drive forward. She would move, or she wouldn’t. Either way, not his problem.Instead, he rolled down the window just enough for his voice to slip through the rain.

“Move.”

She didn’t.His patience was thin.His fingers tapped once against the wheel. The rain pounded against the roof of the car, streaked down the windshield in thick rivulets.

Still, she stood there.He let out a slow breath. Then, he opened the door.

Cold air hit him immediately, soaking through his suit in seconds. He ignored it. He had stood in worse storms.The girl didn’t react to him stepping out. Didn’t step back. She just watched.

Up close, she looked even smaller. Thin and… worn. Like she had been standing in the rain.Raffaele pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a slow drag. The orange ember burned bright against the darkness.

"You looking to die tonight, little ghost?"

She didn’t answer. Raffaele exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching her through the haze.

"If you are, you're doing a shit job of it."

She blinked, rain dripping from her lashes. no fear. Still nothing. He could leave her there. He should. She wasn’t his problem.And yet… His hand moved before his mind could tell it not to. The passenger door opened with a quiet click