Jaehyun didn't know how long he sat there in the cold, dimly lit room. Minutes? Hours? The concept of time blurred as his thoughts spiraled into chaos. His family had abandoned him. The people who were supposed to protect him, to love him unconditionally, had discarded him like trash. The sting of betrayal burned hotter than any fear he felt toward his captors.
The heavy metal door screeched open, pulling Jaehyun out of his thoughts. A woman stepped inside this time, her presence commanding the room instantly. She was tall, dressed in a sleek black dress and heels that clicked sharply against the floor. Her auburn hair was tied back into a flawless chignon, and her sharp green eyes studied Jaehyun with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. She carried herself with an air of power that sent shivers down Jaehyun's spine.
"Leave us," she said in perfect Korean, her voice low and velvety. The man from before, who had been lingering in the doorway, nodded silently and left without a word.
Jaehyun swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Who are you?"
The woman's crimson lips curved into a small smile. "You may call me Isabella," she said, her accent softening his language into something almost melodic. "But to most, I am known as Bellissima."
Jaehyun frowned. The name meant nothing to him, but the way she said it—like it carried weight—made his stomach twist. "What do you want from me?"
"Ah, straight to the point," she said, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. "I like that. You're in no position to ask questions, but I'll indulge you, Mr. Choi."
She stopped in front of him, her piercing gaze meeting his. "Your family made it clear they have no interest in your survival. That leaves me with two options: dispose of you, or repurpose you."
"Repurpose me?" Jaehyun echoed, his voice shaky.
"Yes." She leaned in closer, her perfume a strange mix of sweetness and danger. "You see, I have a talent for identifying raw potential. And despite your current... condition, I see something in you. A flicker of something that could be great, if properly nurtured."
Jaehyun blinked at her, his heart pounding. "I'm not following."
Her smile widened. "You're lost, abandoned, with nothing to your name. But in my world, that makes you a blank slate—a rare and valuable opportunity. I can mold you, shape you into something extraordinary. Or," she added, her tone hardening, "I can leave you to rot here, forgotten by the family that cast you aside."
The room felt colder than ever as her words sank in. "What do you mean by... your world?"
She tilted her head, as if deciding whether or not to humor him. "The world of power. The world of survival. My world, Jaehyun." Her green eyes glinted dangerously. "The mafia."
His breath hitched. "You're joking."
"Do I look like a woman who jokes?" she asked, arching a perfectly sculpted brow.
He didn't answer, his mind racing. Mafia? Was this some sort of sick game? But the look in her eyes, the calm, unshakable confidence in her voice, told him she was dead serious.
"You have two choices," Isabella continued, her voice steady. "You can die here, another nameless casualty of a cold and unforgiving world. Or you can rise. You can become something greater than the spoiled, pathetic boy your family saw you as. Under my guidance, you can learn what it truly means to hold power."
Jaehyun stared at her, his mouth dry. Her words stirred something in him—a mix of fear, anger, and... a strange sense of possibility. The life he'd known was gone, ripped away by the people who should have protected him. But maybe... maybe this was his chance to become something more. To prove them all wrong.
"What's the catch?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Isabella chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Smart boy. The catch, as you put it, is that this won't be easy. I will break you down to nothing before building you back up. You will suffer. You will bleed. And if you survive, you will emerge as someone unrecognizable—someone capable of anything."
Jaehyun's throat tightened. The weight of her words was suffocating, but so was the thought of dying here, forgotten and powerless.
"What's it going to be, Mr. Choi?" Isabella asked, straightening to her full height. "Will you let them win? Or will you take control of your destiny?"
For a long moment, Jaehyun said nothing. His mind flashed back to his family's cold, dismissive faces, the way they had so easily written him off. They thought he was weak, useless, a failure. And maybe they were right—at least, the version of him they had known.
But this... this was his chance to change that.
"I'll do it," he said finally, his voice trembling but resolute. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Isabella's smile returned, this time colder, sharper. "Good," she said, reaching out to tilt his chin up with one perfectly manicured finger. "Welcome to your new life, Luca De Rossi."
Jaehyun blinked, startled. "Luca...?"
"Your new name," she said, stepping back. "The first step in shedding the weak, useless boy you once were. From this moment on, you belong to me. And I will make you into someone the world will never forget."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, leaving Jaehyun—no, Luca—alone in the dim light, his heart pounding as he stared into the abyss of the unknown.