Chapter One: Before the Bullet Fell
Chapter One: Before the Bullet Fell
The Mediterranean breeze swept across the rooftop terrace of the Santoro Hotel, carrying the scent of saltwater and expensive cigars.
Romeo Falcone leaned against the glass railing, one hand tucked into the pocket of his tailored black suit. At twenty-eight, he had already become a name whispered with both fear and admiration in the underground world his family ruled.
Beneath them, the private beach glowed beneath the golden afternoon sun. Guests laughed as waves crashed against the shore.
Behind Romeo, a group of powerful men discussed shipments and alliances over crystal glasses filled with whiskey.
Including his father.
“You’re not listening.”
Romeo glanced over his shoulder.
Falcone Santoro stood beside the observation telescope installed near the edge of the rooftop, his expression caught between amusement and disappointment.
“You’ve been staring at that beach for ten minutes.”
Romeo smirked. “Maybe I’m considering retirement.”
The older man snorted.
“You?” He adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “The day you retire is the day hell freezes over.”
The men around them laughed.
Falcone rested a hand on Romeo’s shoulder.
“You know, one day, all of this will be yours.”
Romeo followed his father’s gaze.
The city.
The empire.
The blood-stained throne.
He had spent his entire life preparing for it.
“You’ve taught me enough,” Romeo replied.
His father shook his head.
“No. I’ve only taught you how to survive.”
He moved toward the telescope.
“But when you start handling the family business on your own…” A knowing smile touched his lips. “You’ll understand that power attracts many things.”
Romeo arched an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
Falcone stepped aside and gestured toward the telescope.
“Woman.”
Romeo rolled his eyes.
“Please.”
“Look for yourself.”
With a sigh, Romeo adjusted the telescope and peered through the lens.
Children chased each other near the shoreline.
A couple argued over a beach chair.
A group of friends posed for photographs.
Then—
His breath caught.
She stood near the water’s edge, barefoot, holding her sandals in one hand.
The wind lifted strands of her dark hair as laughter spilled from her lips.
She wasn’t trying to be noticed.
And yet…
Romeo couldn’t look away.
The sunlight danced across her skin as she turned toward her friends.
Beautiful.
Free.
Real.
Something tightened in his chest.
“What?” his father asked.
Romeo didn’t answer.
The girl looked up suddenly, shielding her eyes from the sun.
For one impossible second…
It felt like she was staring directly at him.
Then—
A deafening crack split the air.
Warm liquid splattered across Romeo’s face.
The telescope slipped from his grasp.
His father’s body jerked violently.
Time stopped.
Falcone Santoro collapsed to the ground.
Blood pooled beneath his head.
“Dad—”
Another shot rang out.
Pain exploded through Romeo’s chest.
His knees hit the marble floor.
Shouts erupted around him.
Guards reached for weapons.
Glass shattered.
Someone screamed.
Romeo pressed trembling fingers against his chest.
Blood.
Too much blood.
His vision blurred.
No.
No.
He turned weakly toward the beach below.
Toward the girl.
Toward the last beautiful thing he had seen before the world shattered.
Darkness crept into the edges of his vision.
He heard distant voices.
“Protect Mr. Falcone!”
“Call the ambulance!”
“Find the shooter!”
Romeo barely registered them.
Instead…
He remembered her laughter.
The way the sunlight had framed her silhouette.
The softness in her eyes.
Who was she?
His father’s lifeless hand rested inches away from his own.
Romeo tried to reach for it.
His fingers wouldn’t move.
The world faded.
And as darkness swallowed him whole…
the image of the girl on the beach remained.
Unchanging.
Waiting.
As if she had followed him into the abyss.
