Mafia Heir's Mistaken Obsession

PROLOGUE – Luca’s POV Manila – 2:37 AM The rain hadn't stopped for hours. Neither had the screaming. Luca Moretti stood in the middle of the warehouse, the scent of gasoline thick in the air, and blood slick on the concrete floor beneath his boots. His coat was soaked, his shirt clung to his chest. His pulse was steady. Too steady. Like even this—blood, smoke, fire—barely touched the void inside him. Not rage. Not guilt. Not satisfaction. Just silence. The man tied to the chair coughed blood again, muttering a name—Mila. Luca’s jaw twitched. “Wrong answer,” he muttered, and nodded once. A shot echoed. Another body dropped. “Burn it,” Luca said coldly, turning his back on the mess as his men moved in. He lit a cigarette as the scent of burning flesh crept through the smoke. No one screamed anymore. Mila Cruz. Gone. But her name still echoed like a curse—the woman who’d leaked their shipping routes. The one who vanished before he could make her bleed. A new lead. A student. Not Mila—but close. Same surname. Same eyes. Same defiance—captured in grainy surveillance footage. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was fate. Either way, she’d answer for Mila’s sins. He exhaled smoke as the fire behind him lit the night. If she’s related, she dies. If she’s not... I’ll still ruin her. Slowly. Just to see if she bleeds like Mila.