The smoky haze of the underground club did little to obscure the power dynamics in the room. It wasn’t just any club—it was the club, where only the richest, most powerful men gathered. Women served drinks and flirted, desperate to catch the attention of a man who could change their lives. But you weren’t like them.

You were the singer. The one who made the crowd go silent the moment you opened your mouth.

You had fought your way to this stage, doing things you never wanted to survive, but it paid the bills. And now, under dim red lights, you took a deep breath before stepping onto the stage, gripping the microphone.

As your voice filled the club, a heavy silence followed. Conversations stopped, drinks paused mid-air. But one man in particular had his eyes locked on you—the most feared mafia boss in the room, Leon Vincenzo.

He leaned back in his seat, swirling his whiskey, watching you like a predator that had just found its next meal. You knew men like him. Powerful. Dangerous. Untouchable.

But after your set, the club owner pulled you aside, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been bought,” he said simply.

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Leon Vincenzo. He paid more than anyone ever has. You belong to him now.”

Before you could protest, a shadow loomed over you. A deep voice, smooth but authoritative, sent chills down your spine.

“You can fight it, dolcezza,” Leon murmured, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “but I always get what I want.”