The mafia's love story : ) Part 2 : The unseen shadow

The unseen shadow (Ep.3)

Elena’s hands trembled as she clutched the papers. "What do we do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luca didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that whoever was sending these letters was watching them, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He needed to find out who it was, and fast, before they made their move.

The following weeks were a blur of unease and suspicion. Luca quietly made inquiries through old contacts—those who owed him favors, those who still had one foot in the underworld. He kept his searches discreet, knowing that any misstep could lead his enemies directly to them. He also became more vigilant, watching Elena’s every move, ensuring she was never alone. But the letters kept coming, and the threat grew more menacing with each one.

One night, as Luca sat in the darkness of their home, going through old files and contacts, he felt it—that familiar feeling of being watched. He stood, his muscles tensing, as he moved towards the window. Outside, under the streetlamp, stood a figure cloaked in shadow. They didn’t move, didn’t attempt to approach. They simply watched.

Luca’s instincts screamed at him to go after the figure, to end this once and for all, but something held him back. Whoever was watching them wanted him to make a mistake. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was a game.And Luca wasn’t going to play by their rules.

Instead, he turned away, pulling the curtains shut. He needed a new plan, something unexpected.

The next morning, Luca told Elena to pack their bags. "We’re leaving tonight," he said, his voice steady but firm. She didn’t argue; she knew better than to question him when it came to their safety. They packed light, preparing to disappear once again, this time even deeper into the shadows.

But Luca had one more stop to make before they left. There was one last person he hadn’t reached out to—an old ally, someone who owed Luca their life but had since fallen off the grid. Luca didn’t like asking for help, but desperate times called for desperate measures.