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CHAPTER 2: The Leaked Videos.

(Vincenzo’s POV)

Last night, I was upstairs in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of whiskey that had long since lost its burn. The lights were dim, the air saturated with perfume, lies, and secrets.

The waitress had brought me my drink, but my mood was already poisoned. All I could think about was that girl... the one who dared to yell at me outside like I was some street rat.

"Are you blind?" she’d said.

No one talks to Vincenzo Bruno like that.

Certainly not some fragile girl with doe eyes and a shaky voice. She didn’t even know who I was... and that ignorance stung more than her words. Because that meant my reputation wasn’t loud enough. Yet.

But before I could let the thought simmer further, I felt my body shift. My limbs turned heavy. The edges of my vision softened. I tried to stand, but my knees buckled.

"Sir? Are you okay?" the waitress rushed over, catching me.

"I’m...fine," I muttered, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t feel my fingers.

"I’ll help you to your suite," she said gently, but firmly.

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. My body refused to respond.

She led me to one of the upstairs rooms and left me at the door... didn’t even help me to the bed. The moment she closed the door behind me, I heard a soft voice… and then?

Nothing.

I woke up the next morning in a haze. A warm body lay curled against mine.

And then I saw her.

The same girl who cursed me out like I was beneath her... now naked beside me in bed.

__________

My blood boiled.

Then Jackson barged in, frantic. "Bro, we’ve got a problem."

“What now?” I snapped.

He shoved his phone in my face. "You trended. All night. Full sex tape. Nude shots. Everything."

"What the fuck?!" I barked. "Take it down. Now!"

"I tried. It’s viral. People saved it. Reposted it. It’s everywhere."

I stood there, fists clenched, as my life... the public part of it... flashed before my eyes. As the face of a multinational company and a mafia boss, I played a tight game. No mistakes. No scandals.

And now? One mistake. One girl. And I was drowning in the mess.

"The media must have already gotten wind of this. Let’s go..." Jackson growled. "... before they get here."

But it was already too late.

Outside the club, the vultures had landed. Dozens of reporters waited, flashing cameras and flinging questions like grenades.

"Mr. Bruno, can you please explain what happened last night? And the reason why your nude pictures and videos are going viral over the internet?"

"We don’t mean to intrude on your privacy, but we’re curious... why would you behave that way in a public place, without considering the impact on your reputation?"

Questions after questions kept on flying, and the cameras continued flashing.

"Is it true that you were drugged? Was the woman a setup?" a voice suddenly asked.

"Sources say the girl’s been with other high-profile men. Are you her next victim?"

That one stuck in my chest.

Someone was targeting her. Not me. Her.

The headlines had already begun to shape a new narrative... and I could see it in her pale, trembling face as the reporters spotted her and surged toward her.

"Shit," I muttered.

Jackson leaned closer and whispered to me. "What's the plan now bro? What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. But we first have to get her away from the reporters," I replied.

Then without taking time to think things through, I moved.

I broke through the crowd and wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders.

"She’s my girlfriend," I said, loud enough for the cameras to catch every word. "She hates attention. That’s why I kept her out of the public eye. Someone clearly leaked our private moment, and I promise, I’ll find the bastard behind it."

Gasps. Flashbulbs. A dozen headlines rewrote themselves.

Jackson stepped up beside me like we rehearsed it. "We’re done here. Any further harassment will result in court action. You know who you’re dealing with."

And just like that... they backed off.

We slipped into the car. She was still shaking, her fingers clutching her arms like she was holding herself together.

I opened the mini-fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to her.

She gulped it like it was the first drink she’d had in days.

"You okay?" I asked, the words foreign in my mouth. I’d never asked anyone that. Not even my own men.

She nodded but didn’t speak. Just clenched her fists tighter.

"What’s your name?"

Her voice cracked. "Sarah."

I stared at her. Her eyes welled with tears... and for the first time in a long time, my heart did something strange.

It twisted.

"I... I want to leave," she whispered. "Please. Just take me away from here."

I hesitated. Then nodded. "Yeah. I’ll get you out of here."

Jackson drove us off, the city shrinking behind us.

I’ve lived a double life for years... CEO by day, mafia lord by night. I’ve never mixed business with sentiment. Never cared.

But Sarah?

She was the first to yell at me. And the first to haunt me.

And now, she was making me feel... responsible.

I have only ever felt responsible for one woman in my life. And that was a very long time ago. Though sometimes, I find myself wishing that I can get to see that woman again. Even if it is just once...

"Why am I feeling like this?" I muttered under my breath.

We drove in silence, her soft sobs the only sound.

Then, at a junction, she spoke.

"Please. Let me out here. I’ll be fine."

Jackson slowly stopped the car.

I frowned. "Are you sure that you will be fine by yourself? Why don't I take you home."

"I appreciate everything. But I’m okay," she said quickly, already opening the door. She stepped out, head bowed, moving fast to avoid attention.

Watching her leave like that, felt weird. But there was nothing that I could do.

Jackson turned to me. "Should we follow her?"

I stared at the spot she’d disappeared. "No. Let her go."

But I wasn’t done yet.

I dialed Richard, my tech and intel lead. He picked up instantly.

"Sir?"

"Find the source of my video that got leaked last night. I want footage, devices, security logs. Everything. Do a check of everyone on duty last night. And get the tech company involved if you have to."

"Understood, sir. But it may take time..."

"I don’t care if it takes a war. I’ll burn the city down if I have to."

Because this wasn’t just about reputation anymore.

This was personal.

And the person who set me up… is already dead. They just don’t know it yet.