Cover - 'Qissa E Khayali' on Instagram
Sinscared Series #1
A forbidden love.
A betrayal lurking in the shadows.
And a world built on blood, deception, and vengeance.
Serafina Moretti, the fierce underboss of the Italian mafia, has never let love...
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Early twilight painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, creating a paradoxical cover for this dark land.
The cold October breeze signaled the approach of autumn. I had always harbored a soft spot for autumn. I loved its paradoxical nature—it was chill, yet it brought warmth and comfort.
Loved ones drew closer, seeking solace in each other's company.
But for me, autumn meant longing for something more—a yearning for the freedom that always seemed just out of reach.
While I had material wealth, it was the freedom of choice that the less fortunate seemed to possess.
It was the power to shape one's destiny, to make decisions without societal or familial constraints.
But in my world, fate was predetermined. Individual rights held little value.
As the product of a fateful marriage, I was a pawn in a power game played by two influential families.
My life belonged to those who sought to control and manipulate it. I was merely a commodity to be traded, married off, or discarded at will.
Within the Mafia world, there were two paths for girls—the Warriors and the Wives. The Warriors were trained to fight from an early age, wielding knives at eight and guns by fifteen.
The Wives were groomed for grace, poise, and charm, playing with Barbie at eight and learning etiquette at fifteen. But I defied these roles.
I was a mix of both Warriors and Wives, shaped by circumstances beyond my control.
Raised without my parents' guidance, I navigated the Mafia world alone. I had a soft heart that yearned for love and compassion, but my hands were stained with the blood of those who crossed my path.
My first kill was a turning point, a memory so vivid and raw that it remained etched in my mind like a scar. I was 15, just a girl by most standards, but the rage boiling inside me was anything but juvenile.
I remember, the air was heavy with the scent of rain, and the storm clouds had gathered ominously, mirroring the storm brewing within me.
My father had always been a easy going person, a trait that often was a bad advantage for him in our dangerous world.
And hence he fell prey to betrayal. And that night, betrayal had come in the form of a trusted associate—a man who had dared to poison him.
I had watched as him as he writhed in agony, the poison coursing through his veins, and the sight had awakened something dark and primal within me.
The doctors had managed to save him, but the damage had been done.
The man responsible had to pay.
I and Michele, found him hiding in a rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town. He was a coward, trembling at the sight of us, but my heart was cold, her mind focused on one thing—revenge.
