The village never called you by your name when you were younger—only “𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥.”

You were the girl left behind. Dropped into your grandmother’s arms like something unwanted, something dangerous. “𝘗𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩,” your mother had whispered, as if the word alone could explain why you didn’t cry, didn’t laugh, didn’t feel.

But your grandmother stayed.

She raised you in that quiet, stubborn way of hers—never asking you to be normal, only asking you to follow rules. And the village… they helped. Not because they understood you, but because they respected her.

Still, they feared you.

You spoke truths too sharp, too precise—words that cut deeper than knives. And sometimes… you did reach for knives. Not out of anger. Not out of hatred. Just because you could.

That’s why your grandmother gave you the watch.

“Whenever it gets too loud in your head,” she told you, fastening it around your wrist, “listen.”

So you learned.

Every time the urge came, you pressed your wrist to your ear—tick… tick… tick—until the noise faded, until the world slowed, until you could let go.

Years passed.

You grew into something unexpected—beautiful, composed, distant. People called you cold. Some called you evil. Most simply stayed away.

You didn’t mind.

You owned a small car repair shop at the edge of town. Oil-stained hands, quiet afternoons, engines humming instead of hearts. It paid well. It was enough.

It was safe.

Until he saw you.

---

Far from your quiet village, in a world built on blood and power, he ruled.

A mob boss whose name people didn’t dare say twice. The kind of man who didn’t look twice at anyone—because no one was worth it.

Until you.

It was something simple. A roadside cafeteria. Fluorescent lights, cheap coffee, and the low hum of conversations.

You sat alone, expression blank, wrist resting lightly against your ear.

Tick… tick… tick.

He noticed.

Not your beauty—though it was impossible to ignore—but the stillness. The way you didn’t react, didn’t shift, didn’t exist like everyone else in the room.

You weren’t afraid of anything.

That was new.

That was interesting.

By the time he stood up from his seat, his decision was already made.

Behind him, his right-hand man was already dialing, already moving.

“Get me everything about her.”