MAFIA QUEEN

CHAPTER 1- THE NIGHT IT STARTED

The rain started early that evening, first as a light drizzle and then turning into a rough storm that swallowed the city. Wind pushed against buildings, trees bent, and every road was crowded with cars trying to escape the downpour. Headlights cut through the darkness, horns echoed in frustration, and people kept glancing at their clocks as if time itself had slowed down.

Kian, a man in his mid-thirties, sat alone in his black car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while the wipers fought against the heavy rain. He had been sitting in traffic for almost forty minutes. The road was blocked because of the weather, and everyone was either angry, tired, or stressed.

He wasn’t any different.

He leaned back in his seat and sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had finished a long meeting earlier and only wanted to get home, eat something warm, and rest. His phone buzzed with messages and emails, but he ignored them. His mind was too full already.

As he waited, he noticed the sound of something unusual. It didn’t blend with the noise of rain or cars. It was faint at first—too soft to recognize—until it grew louder and clearer.

A cry.

A baby’s cry.

Kian frowned and looked around. The sound came from ahead, somewhere past the traffic line. He lowered his window slightly, letting in cold air and rain. The cry repeated, sharper this time, almost desperate.

He muttered to himself, “What the hell…?”

Without thinking too much, he switched on his hazard lights, opened his door, and stepped out into the storm. Rain immediately soaked his clothes and hair. People in nearby cars watched him but didn’t move. Most of them pretended not to hear anything or didn’t want to get involved.

Kian walked toward the direction of the cry. The rain made it hard to see anything, but he kept going. The sound got louder as he moved forward, and then he suddenly stopped.

A car had crashed into a metal barrier on the side of the road. Its front was smashed, the windows broken, and steam leaked from under the hood. It looked recent—maybe minutes old.

He looked around for emergency vehicles, but there were none. No ambulance. No police. Just cars stuck in traffic and people who were too scared or too lazy to step out.

The baby cried again.

Kian rushed forward and peered inside the damaged car. The front seats were occupied by a man and a woman—probably the baby’s parents—who were unconscious but breathing. Blood trickled from the man’s forehead, and the woman had her arm twisted at an odd angle, but they were alive.

Then he looked behind them and saw the baby strapped into a car seat, soaked and trembling.

He tried opening the back door. It was stuck. He tried again, harder. Nothing. He took a deep breath and used his elbow to hit the glass. The rain made his arm slippery but he kept trying until the glass cracked. With one more hit, it finally broke.

The baby’s cries grew louder at the sudden noise, but Kian didn’t hesitate. He reached inside carefully, unlocked the seatbelt clips, and lifted the baby out. She was tiny, wrapped in a half-wet pink blanket, her cheeks red from crying.

He held her close to his chest to protect her from the rain. She kept crying, but softer now, like she was tired.

He looked at the parents one more time. They weren’t in immediate danger, but they needed help soon. He could carry the baby, but he couldn’t carry two unconscious adults at the same time.

He turned and hurried back toward his car.

People watched him through their windows as if he was doing something strange or suspicious. Some stared at the crying baby, but no one stepped out. No one offered help.

He opened the passenger door and placed the baby on the seat, supporting her with the blanket so she wouldn’t roll. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed the emergency number.

When the operator answered, he spoke clearly despite the rain hitting his face.

“There’s been a car accident on the highway near Exit 7. Two adults inside. Unconscious. They’re breathing but injured.”

He didn’t mention the baby.

“Please send an ambulance immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the operator said. “Help is on the way.”

Kian hung up and took one more look at the baby. She had calmed a little, her small chest rising and falling quickly.

“You’re lucky,” he muttered under his breath. “If I didn’t hear you, no one else would have looked.”

He got into the driver’s seat and closed the door. The warmth of the car made the baby’s breathing steady, and she stared at him with big, confused eyes.

He sighed heavily, pushing his wet hair back. His clothes were dripping onto the seat, but he didn’t care.

The traffic ahead was still blocked. No one had moved an inch since he left his car.

He started the engine and slowly turned the car around using the small space available.

As he drove away, he kept glancing at the baby every few seconds. Something about this situation bothered him—not the accident itself, but the timing.

He knew these people.

Well… not closely. But he knew the father.

The man owed him money—a lot of money. Money from a failed business partnership, money he was supposed to pay back by the end of the month. Instead, he avoided calls, lied about payments, and pretended everything was fine.

Kian tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wasn’t the type of man who forgot debts. He didn’t forgive easily either.

He looked at the baby again.

Her little fingers gripped the edge of the blanket, and she blinked slowly, almost ready to fall asleep.

Kian shook his head slightly and whispered, “Of all nights… why this one?”

The storm seemed to respond by hitting the roof harder.

After a minute of silence, the baby let out a soft sound—a small, tired whimper.

Kian sighed again. He wasn’t heartless. He didn’t dislike children. But this situation was far from simple. Far from normal.

He pulled up to a red light, even though barely anyone was on the road. He turned to the baby, fully facing her.

He spoke to her directly, his voice low and serious.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said. “I’m not the kind of man who leaves a child in a wreck and pretends I didn’t see anything.”

The baby blinked, making a tiny hiccuping sound.

“But listen to me well,” he continued. “Your father owes me. He owes me a lot. Money he pretended not to have. Money he tried to run away from. Money he thought he could forget about.”

He leaned closer slightly, lowering his voice as if she understood everything.

“You will grow up. You will live under my roof. And year by year, you will pay his debts. Not with money—but by being useful to me. By learning what I teach you. By doing what I say. Because someone has to take responsibility.”

He leaned back and started driving again.

The baby didn’t understand any of his words, of course. She only watched him with big eyes, her expression blank and soft.

Kian knew she didn’t know anything now. But she would grow, and one day she would understand the life she had been brought into. A life shaped by a storm, an accident, and a debt that wasn’t hers—but would become hers.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing the city clean while hiding everything in darkness.

Inside the car, the man and the small baby drove into the night, beginning a story neither of them expected.

A story she would never escape from easily.

A story that started with a promise.

A cold one.

A permanent one.

And for her… it was only the beginning.