Bound by Shadows

Power was his empire.

Fear was his crown.

Love? An illusion Lucas Marlo had no use for.

At thirty-one, Lucas ruled both the underworld and the corporate world. Half Italian, half French, his blood carried elegance and brutality in equal measure. In the glossy boardrooms of Milan, he was the cold CEO of Marlo Enterprises, a trillion-dollar empire. In the shadows of Sicily, he was Il Fantasma—the Ghost—the ruthless mafia boss whose word was law and whose silence was deadlier than any bullet.

No one crossed him.

No one touched his heart.

Until she came.

Chapter One – Arrival

Kang Eiman 21 year old college student , came to italy to study .Her father had sent her to Milan with promises of safety, of education, of a brighter future. Her father had arranged everything—her university admission, her residence, even the car that waited to take her to her new life. Eiman was supposed to feel comforted by his planning, yet unease gnawed at her. He had been strangely quiet before she left, his phone calls hushed, his brow lined with tension she had never seen before.

Still, she told herself this was a new beginning. Italy was where she would discover herself, far away from the shadows of family expectations.

The black car that waited outside the airport looked more like something from a movie than a student pickup service. A sleek Mercedes, windows tinted to darkness. The driver—a tall man with graying hair and sharp eyes—opened the door without a word.

“Signorina Kang?” he asked, his accent thick with Italian vowels.

“Yes. That’s me.” She forced a smile, slipping inside. The leather seats swallowed her in silence.

The city blurred past her window as they drove. Milan was alive—fashionably dressed people hurrying across cobblestones, neon lights glittering above cafés, laughter spilling from crowded streets. She pressed her forehead to the glass, awed by it all. Yet her driver remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the road.

“Are we going to the university residence?” she finally asked.

His answer was simple. “No. You will be staying at Villa Marlo.”

Eiman frowned. “Villa… Marlo?”

The man did not elaborate.By the time they reached the villa, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in blood-orange and violet. Eiman stepped out and froze.

The estate loomed before her, carved from pale stone that glowed under the evening sky. Iron gates towered behind them, shutting her in with a metallic clang. Gardens stretched endlessly, manicured to perfection, yet shadowed by statues that seemed almost alive. Guards in black suits lingered near the entrance, their watchful eyes making her shiver.

This wasn’t a student residence. This was a fortress.

The driver retrieved her luggage and gestured toward the enormous doors. “Inside. You will be shown your room.”

Eiman hesitated, her pulse racing. “There must be a mistake. I—my father said—”

“Your father arranged this,” the driver interrupted, his voice final. “You are safe here.”

Safe. The word again. But somehow, she had never felt more trapped.

Inside, the villa was breathtaking. Marble floors stretched endlessly, chandeliers glittered like captured starlight, and heavy curtains in crimson velvet framed tall windows. The air smelled faintly of leather, wine, and something sharper—power.

A maid appeared, her face polite but unreadable. She led Eiman through winding corridors, past rooms with locked doors and whispered voices that vanished as they walked by. Eiman clutched her bag closer, her footsteps echoing.

When the maid opened the door to her room, Eiman was stunned. The chamber was larger than her entire apartment back home. A canopy bed stood in the center, dressed in ivory silk. A balcony overlooked the glowing city beyond the estate walls. It was beautiful, but in a way that felt more like a cage than a sanctuary.

“You will stay here,” the maid said, bowing slightly. “Dinner will be served at eight. Do not be late.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Eiman sank onto the bed, her heart pounding. She didn’t understand any of it—why she was here, why her father hadn’t told her about this arrangement, who truly owned this house that breathed wealth and menace in every corner.

Her phone buzzed. A message from her father.

Trust me, Eiman. Stay there. Do as they say. I’ll explain soon.

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