Chapter 1: Born in Blood

The first lesson Dante Romano learned was that trust was a weakness. In the world he was born into, power was built on deception, loyalty was a currency, and love was a myth. His father, Lorenzo Romano, had ensured that his only son understood the brutality of their existence from a young age. There were no fairytales for boys like him. Only blood, betrayal, and the constant weight of his family’s name.

At ten, he watched his first execution.

At fifteen, he held a gun and pulled the trigger.

By twenty-two, he had earned the respect of killers twice his age, his reputation carved into the bones of those who dared to cross the Romano name.

Now, at twenty-five, Dante was untouchable. Feared. Respected. A man who held the city in the palm of his hand. But despite his control, there was one name that threatened everything—the Morettis.

The Romanos and the Morettis had been at war for decades. Blood had been spilled, families torn apart, and revenge fueled their every move. Each side had suffered immeasurable loss, and neither was willing to forgive.

Across the city, Aria Moretti sat on the rooftop of an abandoned building, her dark eyes scanning the streets below. Unlike Dante, she had not been born with power, but rather forged into it. The Moretti family did not raise their children with love; they sharpened them like weapons, and Aria had been their deadliest creation.

Her earliest memories were of pain. Training that pushed her to the brink, punishments that left scars both visible and invisible. Her father, Antonio Moretti, had stripped her of innocence, molded her into an assassin, and unleashed her into the world with one purpose—eliminate threats before they eliminated her family.

She had learned to kill before she had learned to love.

She had learned to hate the Romano name before she had even met Dante.

Fate, however, had a cruel sense of humor.

Dante stood in his father’s office, his jaw clenched as Lorenzo spoke. “The Morettis have been making moves. Antonio is pushing for something bigger, and I won’t have that bastard challenging our power.”

Dante said nothing, waiting for the real order behind his father’s words.

Lorenzo’s gaze sharpened. “We need to send a message.”

The message was always the same—blood.

Dante’s fingers curled into a fist. “Who’s the target?”

Lorenzo smirked, lighting a cigar. “Not just any soldier. This time, we hit where it hurts. We’re taking out their ghost.”

Dante’s brows furrowed. “Their ghost?”

“The girl.” Lorenzo exhaled smoke, his voice laced with amusement. “Aria Moretti.”

For the first time in years, Dante hesitated.

He had heard the whispers. The stories of the shadow who never missed her mark. The girl trained to kill without hesitation, a phantom in the night. Some believed she wasn’t real. Those who had survived her wrath claimed she was more demon than human. But Dante knew the truth—she was Antonio Moretti’s secret weapon, the blade he wielded in the darkness.

And now, she was Dante’s next target.

Across the city, Aria received her own orders.

Antonio Moretti stood before her, his expression unreadable. “The Romanos think they own this city,” he said, his voice calm but laced with venom. “They forget who we are.”

Aria remained still, waiting.

Antonio met her gaze. “Kill Dante Romano.”

The words should have been simple. Another name on her list, another life to take. But something inside her hesitated.

Dante Romano. The name she had heard since childhood. The enemy she had never met. A man feared by many, but never by her.

She had spent years hunting those who opposed her family. This should have been no different.

But somehow, it was.

She had studied him from afar, gathering intelligence, preparing for this moment. Dante was no ordinary target. He was ruthless, intelligent, and calculated. He had outlived threats that would have taken down lesser men. Killing him would not be easy. But it had to be done.

As she left her father’s office, Aria allowed herself a single breath of hesitation before steeling herself. There was no room for doubt in her world. A single misstep, a moment of weakness, and she would not live to see another sunrise.

Dante, meanwhile, sat in his car, staring out at the city lights. His father’s words echoed in his mind. Kill the girl. Send a message. He had never backed down from an order, never questioned the necessity of violence. But something about this mission felt different.

A deep, instinctual voice whispered in his mind—This is a mistake.

Shaking the thought away, he focused on the plan. If Aria Moretti was as deadly as the rumors claimed, he would need to be careful. There could be no mistakes, no hesitation. The moment they came face to face, one of them would not walk away alive.

Neither of them knew that their fates were about to collide. That the moment they met, everything they had been taught would begin to unravel. That the war they had been born into would no longer be as simple as enemy against enemy.

That love and hate were two sides of the same coin, and they were about to be caught in the middle of a storm neither of them could control.

In a world ruled by blood, betrayal, and vengeance, their story was only Neither of them knew that their fates were about to collide. That the moment they came face to face, everything they had been taught would begin to unravel. That the war they had been born into would no longer be as simple as enemy against enemy.

That love and hate were two sides of the same coin, and they were about to be caught in the middle of a storm neither of them could control.

In a world ruled by blood, betrayal, and vengeance, their story was only just beginning.

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to be continued............

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