ep 2
Far from the soft sunlit mornings of Delhi, on the outskirts of northern Italy, a colossal estate lay cloaked in silence and shadow — the kind of silence that felt intentional, cultivated. Massive iron gates guarded its perimeter, their sharp-edged elegance more a warning than a welcome. Thick stone walls, cold and ancient, framed the estate like a fortress. Inside, the air was crisp with control — heavy with discipline.
Sunlight never dared to stay long. It peeked through the sprawling iron balconies and double-glazed windows, only to retreat as if it, too, felt the chill that lingered not just in temperature but in spirit.
This wasn’t a home.
It was a command center, built not for comfort, but for power.
Inside, everything moved with precision — like clockwork. A quiet rhythm. Mechanical. Timed. Clean. There were no flowers, no scattered shoes, no echoes of laughter. Just silence, and the muted hum of deadly efficiency.
In the underground training wing — far from the tastefully decorated halls above — Leonardo De Luca was already deep into his morning routine.
Bare-chested, clad in black gym trousers, his muscles strained with every calculated movement. His fists wrapped in tape, the punching bag swinging wildly from the assault. Every hit was clean. Controlled. Not rage—discipline. There was no music, just the rhythm of breath, the crack of leather, and the faint whir of climate control.
Each jab, cross, and hook was a meditation — the only time he felt present.
Across from him, dressed in sleek, fitted athletic wear and lifting weights with methodical grace, stood Valentina De Luca — his mirror image in female form. Sharp. Silent. Deadly.
Her ponytail swayed with each motion, not a single strand out of place. She didn’t grunt, didn’t complain — just moved like a well-oiled machine.
She was training to stay untouchable.
They were two sides of the same sword — forged in fire, blood, and emotional sterility.
They didn’t speak much during workouts. They didn’t need to.
But this morning, she broke the silence.
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
Jet’s ready. We leave in two hours. (without looking at him)
Leonardo De Luca/ML
Security? (punching the bag, voice flat)
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
Full coverage. Two internal, two external. Local contractors vetted. Emergency exit plans in place. Zero leaks. (calmly)
Leonardo finally stopped, breathing steadily. He grabbed the towel, wiped his face, and picked up the shake.
Leonardo De Luca/ML
Good. I don’t want surprises. Especially not now.
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
The firm—‘Sharma & Co.’—clean record. I did my digging too. Profitable. No criminal links. Mostly domestic projects, but their design execution is sharp. Almost sterile. Like us.
Leonardo De Luca/ML
India's a growing market. Real estate is bleeding cash flow. Architecture is a front that gives us roots. Controlled roots. And this firm has reach. If this expansion works, we gain direct entrance to Southeast Asia. (drinks, then mutters)
He looked at her then, eyes narrowed.
Leonardo De Luca/ML
I don’t want even one mistake.
Valentina smirked faintly.
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
When have I made one?
The room they dressed in wasn’t just a walk-in closet — it looked like a showroom for power.
Leonardo buttoned his tailored black shirt, tucked it into matching slacks, and his Rolex glinted under the sharp lights. Valentina chose a deep charcoal-grey pantsuit with a high-collared silk shirt — simple, yet assertive. Her lipstick: blood-red. Her earrings: tiny daggers.
They didn’t dress to impress.
They dressed to intimidate.
The cabin was sleek, muted in tones of steel grey and soft ivory. Classical music played faintly. Files sat between them on a mahogany table — architectural designs, legal contracts, projections.
But for once, they weren't talking.
Valentina sipped her espresso. Leonardo tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest.
Something unspoken floated in the space.
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
You feel it too?” (quietly, not looking at him)
Leonardo didn’t answer immediately. He glanced out the window.
The clouds stretched endlessly — white, distant, unbothered.
Leonardo De Luca/ML
There’s… a shift coming. (finally)
Valentina De Luca/ ML sister
Business?
Leonardo De Luca/ML
No. Something else. Can’t name it.
Valentina didn’t probe. She respected silence. Especially his.
But her expression flickered — just once — before she returned to the file in her lap.
Neither of them knew what was coming.
That this was the day Leonardo would meet someone who would unsettle his foundations — not with a weapon, but with warmth.
And Valentina would face someone who wouldn’t kneel to her — but wouldn’t fight her either.
Someone who’d reflect back everything she didn’t know she was missing.
As the plane descended into Delhi, the city lights painted gold across the windows.
They stepped out onto the tarmac like shadows from a different world — poised, elegant, dangerous.
A black bulletproof SUV awaited them.
The warm wind of India hit their faces — unfamiliar, softer, less cruel than the Russian cold.
It smelled of spice and soil.
Of something alive.
Leonardo adjusted his cufflinks.
Valentina put on her sunglasses.
Neither of them noticed — or understood — that they were walking into a world where power wouldn’t be enough.
Not this time.
Because this time, humanity would be their battlefield.
And neither of them was ready.
Author
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Author
I want to let you know that I'm new to this field. I would greatly appreciate it if you could inform me of any mistakes I may have made. I will surely correct it!
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