Chapter 1

The doctor’s office felt far too small to contain all the fear inside my chest.

“Dante, your mother’s heart condition is very severe. The hospital bills have already exceeded the limit. If you can’t find the money for her surgery and pay the outstanding fees, we won’t be able to save her life.”

Those words kept echoing in my head even after I walked out of the room.

Each sentence felt like a hammer striking my skull without mercy.

I walked down the hospital corridor with empty steps. The sharp smell of antiseptic stung my nose, and the white lights on the ceiling made everything look painfully bright.

It felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

My mother is the only family I have. Since my father died in a workplace accident when I was still in middle school, she has worked tirelessly.

She washed other people’s clothes, worked as a part-time housemaid, and even sold fried snacks in front of our house just to pay for my education.

Her rough hands would always stroke my head whenever I felt exhausted. Her smile was always the reason I kept going.

And now, her fragile heart was threatening to take her away from me.

I sat in the waiting chair near the ICU. Through the glass window, I could see her weak body lying there with tubes attached to her chest.

The monitor beeped softly, as if counting down the time she had left. I felt so small. So powerless.

I tried to calculate my savings again. The money I had earned from doing odd jobs wasn’t even enough to cover a tenth of the surgery cost.

I had tried borrowing from neighbors, distant relatives, even small-time loan sharks at the market. Every door had closed one by one. The world feels incredibly cruel when you’re poor.

My hands trembled as I held my phone. I opened a job vacancy app, hoping for a miracle.

But every job required time, and my mother didn’t have that much time.

The doctor had warned me that her condition could worsen at any moment.

I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and tried to think clearly. I had to be strong. I couldn’t cry.

My tears wouldn’t change anything.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated.

Axel’s name appeared on the screen. My best friend since high school. The only one who knew about my current situation. With a heavy breath, I opened his message.

“Dante, there’s a mafia named Leonard Virelli. He’s looking for someone to be his partner—his puppet. The payment is very high. Do you want it?”

I froze.

For a moment, my heart seemed to stop before pounding harder than ever.

Leonard Virelli. That name was not unfamiliar in this city. He was known as the shadow ruler.

His businesses were everywhere—nightclubs, export-import companies, even large construction projects. But people knew that behind it all, there was blood and power.

He was not an ordinary man.

He was the most dangerous mafia in this city.

My hands turned cold. I reread the message over and over, hoping I had misunderstood.

But no. Axel wasn’t joking. He knew I was desperate. He knew I needed money.

Becoming a mafia’s partner. Becoming his puppet.

The word made my self-respect feel trampled. A puppet meant someone controlled, displayed, used as he wished.

Not a real partner. Not love. Just a contract.

I knew Leonard’s reputation. He was ambitious, manipulative, and had no hesitation in destroying anyone who stood in his way. Many people feared him. Even the police seemed reluctant to touch him.

But the money he was offering could save my mother’s life.

I turned to look at the ICU again. Seeing my mother’s helpless body made my chest tighten. What does pride matter if I lose the only person I love?

I gripped my phone tighter.

“How much?” I replied to Axel.

The answer came quickly.

“Enough for the surgery and all the debts. Even more.”

I swallowed hard. It felt as if the world had stopped spinning. As if I had only two choices before me—lose my mother or lose myself.

That night, I didn’t go home. I sat in the hospital chair until dawn, thinking about my future. I tried to convince myself that it would only be temporary. Just a contract. Just a role. I could endure it for my mother.

I’m not a saint. I’m not strong either. I’m just a son who’s afraid of losing his mother.

The next morning, with swollen eyes and an empty heart, I sent Axel a message.

“I agree.”

Those words felt like signing my own fate.

A few hours later, I received another message containing an address and a meeting time. I was instructed to meet Leonard’s personal assistant first. Everything felt so professional and cold, like an ordinary business transaction.

I wore the best shirt I had—a simple white one that had slightly faded. I stood in front of the small mirror in the hospital bathroom, staring at my reflection. My face looked paler than usual. My eyes held fear I couldn’t hide.

“Forgive me, Mom,” I whispered softly. “I’ll do anything to save you.”

I arrived at the given address right on time. The building towered high with a modern design and dark glass reflecting the daylight sky. From the outside alone, it was clear that this was no ordinary place.

A well-dressed man was waiting for me in the lobby. His face was firm, his expression flat.

“Dante?” he asked briefly.

I nodded.

“I’m Marco, Mr. Virelli’s assistant. Follow me.”

His voice was cold and formal. No smile. No small talk. I followed him toward a private elevator. Each step felt heavy. The polished marble floor reflected my small and fragile figure.

The elevator moved up quickly. The seconds inside felt unbearably long. I could hear my own heartbeat. It felt like I was heading to a courtroom to receive a verdict.

When the doors opened, I was greeted by a long corridor with dim lighting and thick carpet. The air felt different there—colder, quieter, more suffocating.

Marco led me to a large room with a dark wooden door. He knocked twice before opening it.

“He’s here, Sir.”

I stepped inside.

The room was spacious and luxurious. Large windows displayed a view of the city from above. In the center of the room stood a man in a perfectly tailored black suit.

He had his back to me.

Yet the aura radiating from him was enough to make me feel choked.

When he turned around, my breath caught.

Leonard Virelli.

His face was handsome with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed capable of reading my mind. His gaze was cold, calculating. He didn’t smile; he simply looked at me as if assessing merchandise.

“Is this him?” His voice was low and heavy.

“Yes, Sir.”

Leonard stepped closer. Every step was filled with confidence. He stopped right in front of me, close enough for me to feel his body heat.

He lifted my chin with one finger, forcing me to look at him.

“You look more innocent than I expected,” he said quietly.

I held my breath. I wanted to push his hand away, but I didn’t dare. I was in his territory. Under his power.

“I don’t like hesitation,” he continued. “If you’re here, that means you’re ready.”

I bit my lower lip.

“I just need the money,” I answered honestly, my voice slightly trembling.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t warm.

“Good. I don’t need love either.”

Those words made my chest feel hollow.

He walked back to his desk and picked up a folder, placing it in front of me.

“The contract. Read it carefully. You will become the lover I keep hidden. You’ll live in one of my apartments. And most importantly… you will obey my orders.”

His words were spoken without emotion, as if he were explaining the rules of a game.

My hands trembled as I opened the folder. The number written there made me fall silent. It was truly enough for my mother’s surgery, even for her recovery and further treatment.

The price of my freedom.

My heart pounded as if something was terribly wrong. An uncomfortable feeling spread throughout my body. But my mother’s face appeared in my mind again.

I picked up the pen.

Without lifting my head, I signed the contract.