THE MAFIA’S NIGHTMARE

THE MAFIA’S NIGHTMARE PROLOGUE JASMINE The night was still…..too still. Jasmine crouched on the rooftop, From up here, the world looked peaceful. But peace was a lie, and she knew it. She’d been waiting for an hour, motionless, her heartbeat steady, her breath controlled. For a sniper, patience wasn’t just a skill. It was survival. Her rifle rested easily against her shoulder, the scope focused on the restaurant’s entrance. A single pull of the trigger would end another man’s story tonight. Then he appeared. Don Pedro. The man walked out with his usual arrogance, a gold chain glinting against his chest, laughter spilling out of him like he had nothing to fear. Jasmine’s lips curled slightly. He had no idea this was his last laugh. She adjusted her aim. Her target moved slower than she remembered, older maybe, softer. But that didn’t matter. This was justice, or at least what her foster father called justice. Pedro had betrayed the family. He had chosen greed over loyalty. Now he would pay. But then she saw him. The man standing beside Pedro. Tall. Broad shoulders. A presence that seemed to swallow the night itself. Damian Moretti. Her pulse hitched before she could stop it. The name alone could silence a room. The king of the underworld, her family’s greatest enemy, the one everyone feared to cross. What was he doing here with Pedro? Jasmine’s finger froze on the trigger. Her gaze stayed locked on Damian, even though she knew she shouldn’t stare. Something about him always made her uneasy. It wasn’t fear, she wasn’t the type to fear men, but there was something else. A strange pull she didn’t understand. Even through the scope, his eyes seemed to find her. It was ridiculous. He was too far away. Yet she swore he looked straight into her hiding spot, like he felt her there. Watching. Her chest tightened. She blinked, forcing her focus back to Pedro. He was moving toward his car now, alone. This was her window. Jasmine exhaled slowly, counting under her breath. “One… two… three…” Her world narrowed to the sound of her breathing and the steady beat of her heart. Then The shot rang out. A single crack that cut through the silence. Pedro dropped instantly. Jasmine lowered her rifle, her expression unreadable. The chaos below was already rising, guards shouting, guns drawn, people running in every direction. But she didn’t flinch. “Nice shot,” she whispered to herself, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. In seconds, she began to pack up, her movements precise and quiet. The mission was done. Another name erased from the list. Another ghost to haunt her later. But before she left, something made her glance through the scope one last time. Damian was still there. He hadn’t moved. He wasn’t shouting or running like the others. He was just… watching. His cold eyes fixed exactly where she was. Her breath caught. No. It couldn’t be. Jasmine quickly turned away, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. The pounding in her chest wouldn’t stop this time. She disappeared into the darkness, her boots silent against the rooftop, leaving behind only the echo of the gunshot and the haunting thought that maybe, just maybe Damian Moretti had seen her. CHAPTER ONE DAMIAN The night felt clean. Sharp. Victorious. Damian Moretti leaned back in the driver’s seat, the taste of satisfaction resting on his tongue. Everything had gone exactly as planned. Don Pedro’s newly built syndicate was now his. The plan had been simple……plant a thought and let greed do the rest. Pedro wanted his own empire, but he didn’t want to challenge Massimo directly. So Damian fed him the idea, watched it grow like poison in his veins, and waited for the fall. It came faster than he expected. Massimo sent his assassin, the infamous Phantom, to clean up the mess. Pedro never saw it coming. One bullet, one breath, and it was over. Before the body was even cold, Damian stepped forward and claimed what was left. Power was never abandoned; it was taken. He smiled faintly as he approached his gate, headlights sweeping across the iron walls of his mansion. Another night. Another victory. Then he heard it. A sound. Soft at first, but real. A rustle behind the tall hedges. His instincts sharpened instantly. “Open the gate,” he said into the comms. “Someone’s trailing me.” “Yes, boss.” The gate began to slide open, but Damian didn’t move. He reached for his gun, the weight of it steady in his palm. He had men, dozens of them, but he’d always trusted his own reflexes more. “Sir” Alphonso’s voice came through. “Go inside,” Damian cut him off. “I’ll handle it.” He started forward slowly, boots crunching against the gravel. The night was quiet, except for the faint sound of struggle down the road. Then came a rush of movement. A girl burst out of the shadows. She ran straight toward him, barefoot, breathless, wild-eyed. Before he could react, she crashed into his chest and clung to his shirt, hiding behind him. Three men followed close behind, stopping dead the moment they saw him. “Boss,” one of them said, breath catching. They lowered their heads immediately. “We didn’t mean to intrude. She belongs to Don Massimo. We were just bringing her back.” Massimo. The name tasted bitter. Damian glanced at the girl. She was trembling, clutching him tighter like she knew this was her only chance to live. Her eyes met his….pleading, terrified, but fierce beneath it all. He could’ve stepped aside. Let them take her. That was how the world worked. You didn’t interfere with another man’s business. Especially not Massimo’s. But then she whispered something. Or maybe it was just the sound of her breath, shaky and desperate. Either way, it made him pause. Her face tilted up slightly, moonlight spilling across her skin. She was bruised, exhausted, but beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten unexpectedly. There was something familiar in her eyes, something he hadn’t seen in years. She reminded him of someone he once loved. Someone he lost. Damian’s jaw flexed. He could hear the men waiting for his command, the girl’s quiet sobs against his shirt, the cold wind biting through the silence. “Boss?” one of the men asked carefully. He didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward, pulling the girl gently behind him. His eyes turned dark, cold, dangerous. “Tell Massimo,” he said quietly, “she’s under my protection now.” The men froze. “But, sir” “Do I need to repeat myself?” They backed away instantly, muttering apologies as they disappeared into the night. When the silence returned, Damian turned to the girl. She was still clutching him, shaking from head to toe. He didn’t move for a long moment. He didn’t understand why he’d just risked a war over a stranger. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her go. Not tonight.