OBSESSION OF THE FALLEN

The house was too quiet. A stillness hung in the air, the kind that settled deep in your bones and made you feel like the world had stopped, if only for a moment. The kind of quiet you couldn't escape, no matter how hard you tried.

Lena Russo stood at the window of her father's study, staring out at the sprawling grounds of the estate. The rain was coming down in sheets, the heavy droplets running down the glass in thick streams, blurring the distant city lights. She barely noticed it anymore-the rain, the darkness, the mansion itself. It all felt like a prison now, each corner of the grandiose estate a reminder of the world her father had built, a world she had always resented but couldn't escape.

Her father was dead.

The words felt unreal, even as they reverberated in her mind like an ominous drumbeat. She had been numb ever since she received the call. She'd heard about the gunshots, the bloodshed, the way power had shifted in an instant. But none of it had prepared her for the finality of his death. She hadn't been close to him, not in years, but he had been her father. And now, nothing could bring him back.

A knock on the door broke the silence, pulling Lena from her thoughts. She didn't need to look to know who it was. Marcus, her father's right-hand man, the only person left in the world who knew how to navigate the chaos her father's death had unleashed.

The door opened slowly, and Marcus stepped in, his face impassive as always. He was tall, with the kind of quiet strength that came from years of surviving in a world where weakness was a death sentence. He didn't speak immediately, but his gaze flickered to the chair behind the desk-the chair that had belonged to her father. Now, it was empty.

"He's gone," Lena said, her voice soft but unwavering. It was the first time she'd said it out loud. She almost couldn't believe the words were hers.

Marcus nodded, his eyes betraying nothing. "Yes, Miss Russo. The Morettis are already making their move. The family has come to claim what's theirs."

Lena's heart stilled. The Morettis. Of all the names she had feared, it was his that haunted her dreams. Xavier Moretti-the man she had been warned about her entire life. Cold, ruthless, and driven by an unshakable desire for power. The very thought of him sent a shiver down her spine.

"They want control," Marcus continued, his voice low, as if the walls themselves might be listening. "And with your father's death, they're moving quickly to take over. You're the last piece of the puzzle."

Lena turned away from the window, her back to him. "I don't want any part of this. I don't want anything to do with the mafia. It's not my life."

Marcus sighed, the sound heavy with something like regret. "You don't have a choice, Miss Russo. Not anymore. The empire is fractured, and there's only one man who can take control of it all now."

She didn't need him to say the name. She knew exactly who Marcus was talking about. Xavier Moretti.

"You don't understand," she whispered, her voice cracking for the first time. "I didn't choose this. I don't belong here. I never did."

But Marcus was already moving toward the door. "You might not have chosen it, but it's yours now. Whether you accept it or not."

Lena clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. It wasn't fair. She had spent her entire life running from the darkness her father had built around her, and now, just when she thought she was free, the shadows had come for her once more.

Before Marcus left, he turned back, his eyes softer now. "There's one more thing, Miss Russo. Xavier... he'll come for you. He always does. And when he does, you won't be able to run anymore."

The door closed behind him, and Lena stood there in the silence, her heart racing, her mind reeling. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to somehow make it all go away. But no matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she tried to escape, one thing was certain:

Xavier Moretti would never let her go.