Marina Vasiliev had always known that her family's wealth and influence were built on secrets. But she never imagined she would become the secret they needed to bury.

It started as an accident. A late-night meeting behind the heavy wooden doors of her father's private study. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the urgent, hushed voices had drawn her in, curiosity overpowering reason.

Her father, Anton Vasiliev, spoke with men she recognized from news reports—high-ranking officials, business tycoons, men with more power than morals. Their words dripped with tension, their voices taut with a quiet ruthlessness that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I want it handled quickly," her father's voice cut through the air, controlled but sharp. "The deal with Castellano is slipping. If this leaks, we lose everything."

The name hit Marina like ice water. Castellano.

Viktor Castellano. The man whispered about in secret, feared by criminals and politicians alike. He was not just a mafia boss—he was an empire unto himself, untouchable, unchallenged.

Her fingers curled against the cool wall as she listened, her pulse a rapid drum in her ears.

"You know what happens if this gets out," another voice said, low and gruff. "Your entire career—your entire legacy—will burn."

"And that's exactly why it can't get out," her father snapped. "I have everything under control. Just—get rid of her."

The words landed like a physical blow.

Get rid of her.

The air vanished from Marina's lungs.

For a moment, she thought she had misheard. But the silence that followed confirmed the truth.

They were talking about her.

Her legs wobbled, panic gripping her chest. She stumbled back, her breath coming too fast, too shallow. No. This couldn't be real. This had to be a nightmare.

But it wasn't.

Her father, the man who had once held her hand when she was a child, was now signing her death warrant.

Why?

What had she overheard that was so damning? What secret had she stumbled upon that made her own life disposable?

She didn't have time to think. She had to move. Now.

Marina turned and ran, the shadows swallowing her as she fled.

Hours Later

Marina's hands trembled as she stuffed clothes into a suitcase, her breaths shallow and uneven.

There was no time to process what had happened. No time to break down, to cry, to grieve the realization that her own family had betrayed her.

All she had was the knowledge that she couldn't stay here.

Her fingers fumbled as she zipped the bag shut. Every noise in the estate made her flinch, every shadow seemed to move. Any second now, someone could burst through the door, ready to carry out her father's order.

She had to leave. But she couldn't do it alone.

Marina's mind raced through her options, but there was only one man powerful enough—dangerous enough—to protect her from the Vasiliev name.

Viktor Castellano.

The thought of him sent a chill through her veins. He was a monster, a man feared by criminals and politicians alike. She had never met him in person, only heard rumors. But she knew one thing for certain.

If she went to Viktor, she would never be free again.

Her eyes flickered to the phone on her nightstand. Months ago, a whisper in the dark had given her a number—a secret line, a last resort. She had never considered using it. Until now.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she picked up the phone and dialed.

The line clicked.

"Viktor Castellano."

His voice was smooth, dark, a low rasp that sent a shiver down her spine.

Marina swallowed hard. "I... I need your help."

Silence.

Then, a slow, measured reply. "Why should I help you?"

She closed her eyes, gathering the last of her courage. "I have information. Something that could destroy everything. But my family—" her voice wavered, "they're going to kill me."

A long pause.

Then, his voice dropped, colder than ice. "I don't deal in charity. What's in it for me?"

Her throat tightened. There was only one answer.

"I'll give you the information. Everything. In exchange for your protection. I..." she hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever you want."

Another silence.

And then—

"You'll regret it," Viktor murmured, a dark promise laced in his tone. "I don't offer protection without a price."

"I don't care," she whispered. Desperation seeped into her voice. "Please. I have nowhere else to go."

A long exhale.

"Very well," he said, his words a slow drag of finality. "You'll come to me. And when you do, remember this—you're mine."