Content Warning ⚠️
This story contains mature themes including explicit sexual content, graphic violence, and scenes of death. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Intended for 18+ audiences only.
Before the blood and betrayal, before her name meant anything in the underworld, Liach Cisco was just another girl in silk—quiet, brilliant, dangerous in ways no one at her elite university could ever guess.
She smiled in study halls. Wrote perfect essays. Held secrets behind her eyes.
No one knew she could dismantle a man in thirty seconds flat. That she'd been raised not for love or legacy—but for death.
Her father, Gabriel Cisco, head of the third Mafia family, had given her a single command.
"Kill Sinveer De Luna. The Godfather. The throne-sitter. Make the first family bleed."
And she'd tried.
On a rain-drenched rooftop in the industrial district, with a knife coated in venom and a heart full of ice, Liach had leapt at him in the dark. One slash to the ribs. Two fingers away from his throat.
She'd expected an easy target.
Instead, she found a man who moved like shadows and struck like prophecy.
He'd survived.
She escaped.
And Sinveer? He'd never seen her face—only caught the scent of her hair, the edge of her voice, the pressure of a woman unafraid to bury him.
It haunted him.
He searched for her in vain. All he had was a memory. A wound. And a vow.
"I will Find her."
"Make her mine before I break her."
But Liach vanished.
Went back to school. Finished her degree. Hide the monster behind scholarship and soft smiles.
For two years, she played the game.
Until the night of her graduation, when she stepped into a club with her friends…
…and saw him again.
Sinveer.
Alive. More dangerous than ever. And so beautiful, it made her bones ache with fury.
He didn't recognize her.
But she remembered everything.
One month later, she submitted a forged résumé. New name. New identity.
Liach Brain. Personal Assistant. Loyal. Quiet. Obedient.
Sinveer hired her.
And the countdown began again.
This time, she wouldn't miss
SINVEER DE LUNA ~~
He feels like silence just before something terrible happens — calm, powerful, and waiting. He draws your eyes without trying. There's something deadly in his stillness, like a storm that hasn't hit yet.
His face is all sharp lines and control — high cheekbones, strong jaw, and a mouth that rarely, if ever, smiles. His nose is straight and regal, a perfect centerpiece to his sculpted profile.
His eyes ,piercing, deep-set, and unreadable — eyes that look more like obsidian than any human color, as if they've seen too much and felt too little. They don't ask questions. They demand silence.
His lips, defined and firm, with a lower lip slightly fuller — the kind of mouth that looks like it's held back more words than it's spoken, and every one of them was dangerous.
His skin, pale, with an ash-like undertone, not sickly but haunting — the kind of complexion that belongs to someone who walks alone under clouds and doesn't feel the cold.
His hair, dark brown, almost black, styled back with loose, natural waves — not vainly done, just always perfect, as if the chaos of wind and rain knew better than to touch him.
He's the kind of man you feel first in your spine before you even see him. There's power coiled beneath his skin, quiet and terrifying. He is a predator disguised in elegance.
LIACH CISCO ~~
She doesn't walk — she drifts. Her very presence stills time. Looking at her feels like standing in a dream too sacred to touch — as if she were made of the night sky itself.
Are face is delicate yet defined — cheekbones carved like poetry, her features symmetrical and entrancing. She has the face of someone kissed by ancient gods.
Her eyes, sea blue — eyes so light and clear they almost glow. They seem to look beyond the room, beyond the moment — seeing everything and revealing nothing. Her gaze is velvet-soft and bottomless.
He lips, plush, full, naturally shaped like a promise. She doesn't need to speak for you to want to listen. Her lips are the kind that make you wonder what she's tasted, what she's sworn, and who she's cursed.
Her skin, a luminous ivory, like pearl warmed by moonlight. It doesn't shine — it glows, as though lit from within.
Her hair, endless black, smooth as liquid ink, cascading in waves down her back. It moves with her like a spell, framing her face with a sorcerous kind of grace.
You don't desire her — you worship her. She's both a mystery and a mercy. She brings quiet where there was chaos, and longing where there was peace.