The gunshot was deafening. The body slumped forward, lifeless.
The woman flinched, her breath hitching, but she didn't scream. She just stared at the corpse, then at Adrian.
And then, she did something unexpected.
She laughed.
It was soft, breathless—like she wasn't sure whether to be horrified or amused.
Lorenzo raised a brow. "What the fuck?"
Adrian's smirk returned, but his gaze was sharper now, more intrigued.
She met his eyes, her lips still curled in something between a smirk and a dare. "You just killed the only person who knew why I was here."
Silence.
Lorenzo tensed. "Boss… I don't like this."
Adrian, however, seemed completely at ease. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with an almost lazy grace.
"Then I suppose we'll have to keep her alive until she tells us."
He exhaled slowly, watching her through the smoke. "Congratulations, sweetheart. Looks like you just became my new problem."
__
The DiMario gang was once one of the three most ruthless organizations in Kristen City. But with its annihilation, the city's fragile balance trembled. Adrian Deluca's empire was growing at an alarming pace, his influence stretching like wildfire through the underworld. His name, once whispered in the dark, was now spoken with both reverence and fear.
With the fall of DiMario, the remaining organizations saw the shift—a force too great to ignore, a storm brewing on the horizon.
---
Morning sunlight streamed through the small apartment, casting a golden hue over Lily's modest breakfast—a plate of toast and a cup of warm milk. As she scrolled through the news on her phone, a particular headline caught her eye. Though the affairs of the underworld rarely made it to the surface, whispers always found their way through the cracks. Another powerful organization had vanished overnight, swallowed by the shadows.
A glance at the time—7:30 AM. Routine called.
Clearing the table with practiced ease, she washed the dishes and tidied up before stepping out into the crisp morning air. The city hummed around her, a blend of life and the unseen dangers lurking beneath its polished surface.
At the bus stop, the familiar hiss of the brakes announced its arrival. The doors creaked open, and a warm voice greeted her.
"Good morning, Lily," said Drake, the bus attendant, his usual grin in place.
"Morning, Drake," she replied, her polite smile carrying a hint of familiarity. Like clockwork, another day began.
The hospital bustled with the usual chaos—emergency calls, hushed voices, the rhythmic beeping of machines. Lily moved through the halls with practiced ease, her crisp uniform giving her an air of quiet confidence. She wasn't just another nurse—her natural talent for handling patients had already earned her attention.
She checked on Mrs. Ellison first, the elderly woman who had been admitted last week for pneumonia. The old woman's frail fingers squeezed hers in greeting, her eyes filled with warmth.
"You're an angel, dear," Mrs. Ellison murmured, her voice weak yet full of gratitude.
Lily smiled, adjusting the IV drip. "Just doing my job, Mrs. Ellison."
"Better than most," the woman chuckled.
A snicker sounded behind Lily.
"You're the talk of the hospital, you know?" came a teasing voice.
Lily turned to see her best friend, Hailey. Nosey, energetic, and always in the middle of every piece of gossip in the hospital.
Hailey crossed her arms, eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, spill. Have you heard about the new patient coming in? Rumor has it, he's crazy rich and stupidly good-looking."
Lily rolled her eyes. "And what does that have to do with me?"
"Uh, everything? You work in this hospital!"
Before Lily could respond, a commotion at the front desk stole their attention.
The hospital doors swung open, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. Conversations hushed, heads turned, and tension rippled through the air like an unspoken warning.
Nikolai Sorrento didn't need an introduction—his name alone carried enough weight to part crowds. Flanked by his right-hand man, Lucas, he moved with effortless arrogance, his expensive dark coat brushing against the polished floors as they strode in.
The receptionist barely had time to react before the head nurse rushed forward, her face pale with forced composure. "Mr. Sorrento, this way, please."
No ID. No questions. No paperwork. VIP treatment wasn't a privilege here—it was an expectation.
A few doctors exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to protest as the hospital staff instinctively stepped aside. The VIP elevator, typically reserved for the wealthiest and most powerful, welcomed his arrival.
Lily, caught in the flurry of movement, barely managed to register what was happening before her best friend, Hailey, nudged her.
"That's Nikolai Sorrento," Hailey whispered, eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "The Black Vultures' golden boy. You know, the Black Vultures."
As if Lily needed the reminder. Her grip tightened on the clipboard.
Nikolai moved past them without sparing a glance, but Lucas, ever the watchful second-in-command, swept his gaze across the room like he was taking note of every face, every reaction.
Just before stepping into the elevator, Lucas leaned in toward Nikolai, voice low but distinct in the eerie silence. "We need to be careful. The streets are talking—Adrian Deluca's making moves. DiMario's gone, and if he keeps going at this rate, the balance we've held for years is going to be shattered."
Nikolai let out a sharp breath, his hand briefly pressing against his injured side. His smirk, however, remained intact. "Let him try," he murmured, stepping into the elevator. His gaze lifted slightly, and for a fleeting second, it landed on Lily.
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes before the elevator doors slid shut.
Lily exhaled, only then realizing she had been holding her breath.
She had no idea why, but something about that man—about the way he spoke, the way he carried himself—sent a cold shiver down her spine.
He was ushered to the VIP ward without so much as a question.
Lily had seen high-profile patients before. But none had ever made the air feel this heavy.
It was only minutes after the elevator doors closed behind him that Dr. Hathaway, the hospital's director, approached her.
"Miss Lily." His tone was crisp, unreadable.