Leon Moretti sat alone in the shadows of his office, the faint hum of the city's night life filtering through the cracked window behind him. The room was sparse—dark wooden furniture, a desk cluttered with papers and old whiskey bottles, a single dim lamp casting long shadows across the peeling wallpaper. It was here that he had made many decisions, some that shaped his empire, others that shattered lives.
Tonight, the weight on his shoulders felt heavier than ever.
His informant—Marco, a wiry man with a nervous twitch and eyes that never quite met his—stood awkwardly near the doorway. The air between them was thick with tension. Marco had delivered countless pieces of valuable information before, but nothing like this.
"Boss," Marco's voice was barely above a whisper, trembling slightly. "There's something you need to hear… about Ayla."
Leon's hand tightened around the armrest. His breath hitched. "Go on."
Marco swallowed hard, as if swallowing a lump of guilt. "I've confirmed it through multiple sources. Ayla… she's Viper's daughter."
The words hit Leon like a bullet. For a moment, the room spun. He blinked rapidly, trying to process the impossible truth.
Viper.
The name alone was enough to freeze the blood in his veins. Viper—the ruthless, cold-hearted kingpin who had been his greatest enemy for years. The man responsible for bloodshed, betrayal, and endless war across the city's underbelly.
And now, Leon's love, the woman who had stolen his heart and haunted his every thought, was tied by blood to his mortal enemy.
His chest tightened, a sharp ache blooming behind his ribs. How could this be? How had he not seen this coming?
"Are you certain?" His voice was rough, laced with disbelief and pain. "No mistakes?"
Marco nodded, eyes darting nervously. "I checked, double-checked. The truth is undeniable."
Leon's mind raced, memories flashing before his eyes—Ayla's laughter, the softness in her gaze, the fierce independence she carried. Had it all been a lie? Had she been playing him?
"No," he whispered to himself, shaking his head. "She wouldn't do that."
But then the darker thoughts crept in—could Ayla be an informant? A spy planted by Viper to get close to him? To dismantle his empire from the inside?
His fingers dug into the armrest, knuckles whitening. The doubt was poison, eating away at his trust.
Leon stood abruptly, pacing the room. His mind churned with anger and heartbreak. The lines between love and hate blurred into a tangled mess.
He stopped and stared out the window at the city skyline, neon lights flickering like distant stars. What did this revelation mean for their future? Could he protect Ayla from the dangerous legacy she carried? Or was she doomed to be a pawn in the war between their families?
His phone buzzed on the desk, but he ignored it, lost in his thoughts.
Finally, he turned back to Marco. "I want everything on this. Who else knows? Has Viper's crew moved? Are they planning something?"
Marco nodded quickly. "I'll get it for you."
Leon's voice softened, though the steel remained. "And no one outside this room can know. Not yet."
As Marco left, Leon sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. The bitter truth burned like acid in his gut. But beneath the pain, a fierce resolve kindled.
He would find a way to protect Ayla. Even if the whole world was against them.