The mansion was unusually quiet that night, its vast halls and rooms cloaked in an uneasy stillness. Benjamin sat in his study, pouring over the intelligence they had gathered about Lucien and the mysterious new threat, The Raven. His mind was sharp, methodical, yet a weight pressed on him—a heavy reminder of the life he had chosen and the risks it placed on Clara.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the soft sound of Clara's footsteps approached. She knocked lightly on the doorframe, holding a small tray with two cups of steaming tea.
"You've been in here for hours," she said softly, stepping inside.
Benjamin looked up, the faintest smile breaking through the storm clouds in his eyes. "I didn't hear you come in."
"That's because you're drowning in work," she teased, setting the tray down on his desk. "I thought you could use a break."
He reached for one of the cups, his fingers brushing hers in a fleeting moment of contact. Clara felt her cheeks warm under his gaze, which softened from its usual intensity into something more tender.
"Thank you," he said, his voice low.
Clara perched on the arm of his chair, close enough for her presence to ease the tension in his shoulders. "You carry so much weight on these shoulders, Benjamin. You don't always have to be the strong one."
Benjamin reached up, tracing his fingers along her wrist. "I do when it comes to you," he said. "You're my priority, Clara. Always."
Their eyes locked, the room thick with unspoken emotions. Clara leaned closer, her hand resting lightly on his chest. "I'm here for you, Benjamin. Whatever comes, we'll face it together."
Her words struck something deep within him, breaking through the hardened armor he wore for the world. He pulled her into his lap, his arms encircling her waist. Clara gasped softly but didn't resist, her hands resting against his broad shoulders.
"Sometimes, I don't think I deserve you," he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.
She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes shining with sincerity. "You deserve love, Benjamin. And I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed her then, a slow and deliberate act that spoke of both longing and gratitude. Clara melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened.
For a brief moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no Lucien, no Raven, no threats looming in the shadows—just the two of them, lost in each other.
The next morning, Clara awoke to find Benjamin already gone from their bed. She padded down to the kitchen, where she found him making breakfast. The sight of the Mafia King—shirtless, with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder—was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
"Good morning," she said, her voice light.
Benjamin turned, his expression softening when he saw her. "Good morning. I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast."
Clara raised an eyebrow, amused. "You? Cooking? That's a surprise."
He smirked, handing her a plate with scrambled eggs and toast. "Don't get used to it."
They ate together, the moment strangely domestic for two people whose lives were anything but ordinary. Clara laughed as Benjamin shared a rare, lighthearted story from his youth, and for a little while, it felt like they were just a normal couple.
But the peace was short-lived.
Later that day, Benjamin gathered his team in the operations room. Evelyn had received new intel suggesting that The Raven was planning a bold move against both Benjamin and Lucien.
"Lucien is vulnerable," Evelyn explained, pointing to the map. "The Raven's forces are targeting his warehouses, his income streams. But he won't stop there. Once Lucien is weakened, Benjamin, you're next."
Benjamin nodded, his expression grim. "Then we need to move first. Marcus, prepare a strike team. Evelyn, dig deeper into this Raven's network. I want to know who they are and what they want."
As the meeting broke up, Clara lingered, her arms crossed. "You're going out again, aren't you?" she asked, her tone laced with worry.
"I have to," Benjamin replied, stepping closer to her. "This is the only way to protect you."
Clara shook her head. "I don't need you to protect me by putting yourself in danger. I need you to come back to me."
"I always will," Benjamin promised, cupping her face in his hands. "No matter what."
Their moment was interrupted by Marcus, who entered with an urgent expression. "We've got a problem. One of our safe houses was hit—Lucien's men, but they're carrying weapons that don't match his usual supply."
Benjamin's eyes narrowed. "The Raven."
"Most likely," Marcus confirmed. "What's worse is that they left a message. You need to see this."
He handed Benjamin a tablet displaying footage from the scene. Scrawled on the wall in red paint were the words: "The game has begun."
Benjamin's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.
Clara, who had been peering over his shoulder, felt a chill run down her spine. "What does it mean?" she whispered.
"It means we're not just dealing with Lucien anymore," Benjamin said, his voice hard. "We're in the middle of a war."
As the weight of this revelation sank in, the lights in the mansion flickered, then went out completely. A tense silence filled the room before a single sound broke through—the ominous hum of a drone circling outside the windows.
Clara gripped Benjamin's arm, her eyes wide with fear. "What's happening?"
Benjamin's gaze was fixed on the drone as it hovered, dropping a small package onto the front steps before disappearing into the night.
Marcus moved quickly, retrieving the package and returning to the room. The box was small, unmarked, and unsettlingly light. Benjamin opened it cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he pulled out its contents: a single black feather and a note.
The note read:
"This is only the beginning. See you soon, Benjamin."
Benjamin's grip tightened on the feather, his face darkening with fury.
From the shadows, a war had truly begun.