Niccolo sat in the large, elegantly decorated living room, the kind of place that still made him feel slightly out of place even though it wasn't his first time there. The room had high ceilings, velvet curtains, and crystal chandeliers that glittered even in daylight. Ariana sat close beside him on the long leather couch, her hand folded neatly over her lap. Across from them, the Mayor and his wife sat side by side, watching Niccolo with heavy gazes that carried more weight than words.The silence stretched uncomfortably until Ariana’s father finally cleared his throat. His voice was deep, commanding, the kind that made people instinctively sit straighter.“Niccolo,” he said, “I assume you’ve seen the articles spreading online.”Niccolo gave a small nod. “Yes, sir. I’ve seen them.”The Mayor leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then I’ll ask you directly. What do you intend to do about it?”Niccolo blinked, caught off guard by the question. His brows furrowed. “

Niccolo couldn’t get any sleep that night. He tossed and turned on his bed, the sheets growing damp with sweat as his mind spiraled between two heavy burdens: the mayor’s enticing offer and the voice’s chilling demand. One was a path of opportunity, a chance at power and perhaps security. The other was a road paved in shadows and blood.His thoughts pulled him back and forth. He pictured the mayor’s face across the mahogany table, the weight in his voice when he promised Niccolo two wishes, any wishes at all. What kind of man had that sort of influence? More importantly, what kind of future could Niccolo carve for himself if he dared to accept?But every time he tried to follow that fantasy, the voice returned to claw him back down into reality. The task. The impossible, suffocating task. He was supposed to spend a whole month in a stranger’s mansion, playing the role of a servant, quietly earning trust… only to betray it with poison. The thought churned in his stomach like spoiled fo

Niccolo didn’t understand what Selene meant. Her warnings kept echoing in his head, but he didn’t have time to press her for details. A voice rang out from downstairs, summoning them both. Selene’s eyes hardened for a moment, then softened into a weary smile. She only whispered, “Just ….be careful.” When they descended the long winding staircase, the man was waiting in the grand hall. His facial feature looked stiff, almost like he had been making the same expression all his life. Niccolo noticed he was decorated with gold— rings worn on all ten of his stubby fingers, a large chain around his neck and a golden wristwatch. His gaze fell on Niccolo and he eyed him as if he was a prized catch rather than a guest. “I am Roberto Di Mario,” he declared with the kind of authority that suggested he expected the world to recognize the name. “This mansion is my home. As you might have noticed, I am not married and neither do I have children, so I surround myself with those who serve me. It kee

The women’s words stuck in the dim corners of Niccolo’s mind long after they left his room. The candle on the dresser had burned low, the flame bending in the draft that seeped through the cracks of the window shutters, but his thoughts were far too sharp and restless for him to care about the dark.He leaned against the cold wall, replaying every sentence they had uttered.Nic Morrandi.The name scraped against his nerves like a blade on stone. When Mary spoke it aloud, something inside him had shifted violently. It wasn’t just shock, it was concern. He had asked the women if they knew who this person was, and their responses had only deepened the mystery.Selene, calm but cautious, had said: “One of the older staff might know. All I know is… he used to live with Roberto a long time ago.”Mary had narrowed her eyes at Niccolo, suspicion flickering beneath the weight of her fear. “Why are you so interested in him? What does that name mean to you?”Niccolo had hesitated before answeri

Niccolo sat on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped together, the dim light from the single lamp in the corner stretching his shadow long against the wall. Teddy, Selene, and Mary sat opposite him, the air in the room heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. The walls seemed to close in on them, the silence only interrupted by the faint ticking of the old clock in the hallway. It was Teddy who finally broke the stillness, his gruff voice low, almost conspiratorial. “You must never, and I mean ever, let Roberto find out what your real name is,” Teddy said, his weathered face tightening with concern. “If he suspects, even for a second, he’ll kill you. Without hesitation.” Niccolo nodded slowly. He had already imagined it a hundred times. The man was ruthless; that much he had seen for himself. Still, hearing it from Teddy, who had been at Roberto’s side for decades, made the danger feel more immediate. “I know,” Niccolo murmured, his eyes lowering to the floor. “But I couldn’t k