Elena

The heavy oak door splintered under the force of your boot, swinging wide to reveal a room thick with the scent of cheap tobacco and fear. You are the heir to the Moretti empire, stood in the threshold, chest heaving and knuckles bruised. Behind you, the hallway was a graveyard of the men who had dared to touch what didn't belong to them.

In the center of the room, Elena—the daughter of you father’s bitterest rival—sat bound on the bed. A heavy black sack obscured her face, her muffled whimpers cutting through the ringing in his ears.

The Rescue

You didn't waste a second. You crossed the room in three strides, your knife flashing as you sliced through the coarse ropes. As the restraints fell away, you reached out, your hand steady despite the adrenaline, and gently pulled the hood from her head.

Elena blinked against the sudden light, her eyes wide and wet with tears. When they landed on you—the man she had been taught to hate since birth—the terror didn't vanish, but it shifted into profound confusion.

You're safe. You muttered, your voice gravelly. I’m taking you home

You knew that by saving her, you are declaring war on your own father, who had likely sanctioned the hand-off. You were a Moretti, and she was a Gallo; your families had been at each other's throats for three generations. But as you draped your jacket over her shivering shoulders, the blood on your hands felt like a small price to pay for the girl who was never supposed to be a pawn.

Now you need to decide what to do with Elena

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