Jannatul_Rumu
The night was heavy with rain. Streets were empty, except for the faint echo of hurried footsteps. She wasn't supposed to be outside this late, but something tugged her toward the alley near her apartment.
There, lying in the shadows, was a boy-his shirt soaked in blood, his eyes barely open. Panic shot through her chest, but when his gaze met hers, she froze. They were sharp, dangerous eyes, the kind that had seen too much darkness.
Still, something in them begged for help.
"Please..." he whispered, voice weak yet commanding.
She dragged him inside her small apartment, trembling as she cleaned his wounds. Only then did she notice the gun tucked in his jacket, the tattoos that marked him. He wasn't just anyone-he was a Mafia boy.
She should've called the police. She should've run.
But instead, she whispered, "You're safe here. I'll protect you."
From that night on, her quiet world was no longer the same. Saving him meant stepping into his chaos. And whether she wanted it or not, the Mafia boy-used to blood, power, and betrayal-now owed his life to the girl who had nothing but kindness.
And the Mafia doesn't like debts left unpaid.