เจ้าพ่อยกเลิกงานแต่งสิบเจ็ดครั้งฉันกลายเป็นเจ้าแม่มาเฟีย

Rain poured down in heavy sheets, bouncing off the rooftops and turning the streets of the city into a mirror of sparkling reflections. Amara Williams tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders, wishing she had chosen a sturdier umbrella. The one in her hand flipped inside out as the wind knocked it sideways, leaving her half soaked, half struggling.

“Of all nights… why tonight?” she muttered, trying to steady her umbrella and her nerves at the same time.

Her heels clicked against the wet pavement as she hurried along, eager to get home before she turned into a puddle herself. A car honked in the distance, and she jumped back, the strap of her bag slipping off her shoulder. She cursed under her breath, thinking she would never survive this storm alive.

And then—bam.

She collided with something solid, almost knocking her off balance entirely.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Amara gasped, looking up to see… him.

A man in a sharp black suit stood before her, his coat dark against the night, glistening slightly from the rain. His hair was damp, his expression unreadable, but his dark eyes cut straight through her like ice.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, his voice calm, yet commanding. There was no anger in it—only that unshakable, dangerous control that made Amara’s heart skip.

“I—I didn’t see you! I mean… I was trying to get out of the rain…” She stumbled over her words, flustered by the sight of him. She noticed the expensive watch on his wrist, the crisp cut of his suit, the confident way he stood. Something about him screamed power—and maybe danger.

He raised an eyebrow, unamused. “You’re drenched. Are you going to be okay?”

Amara nodded quickly, trying to collect herself. “Y-Yes… thank you… I just… I’m clumsy sometimes.”

He said nothing, only tilted his head slightly as if analyzing her. Then, without another word, he walked past her, the storm parting around him as if it respected his presence.

Amara’s knees almost buckled. Who was that? And why did her chest feel like it was about to explode just from a few words?

The next morning, Amara couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had barely slept, tossing and turning as the memory of his eyes haunted her. Who was he? What did he do? And why did she feel an inexplicable pull toward him, even though they had only met for a few seconds?

Her phone buzzed with a message from her best friend, Tola.

“How was the storm last night? You alive?”

Amara typed back quickly, smiling at the thought of Tola’s usual teasing tone.

“Barely. Met a very scary… but handsome man.”

There was no response for a few minutes. Then, suddenly, a car honked outside her apartment window. Confused, she peered through the curtains—and froze.

He was standing there. The same man from last night. In the middle of her small, quiet street. Watching. Waiting.

Amara’s heart raced. Should she go down? Should she hide? But before she could think of an excuse, the doorbell rang.

Trembling, she opened it.

“Alexander Cole,” he said formally, without a hint of a smile.

“We need to talk.”

“W-what? About last night?” Amara stuttered.

“Yes,” he said. “That accident… it has implications. And I intend to make sure everything is resolved properly.”

Amara’s mind raced. Implications? Resolved? She didn’t even know this man’s name until just now!

“I—uh—I’m not sure I understand…” she mumbled.

Alexander’s expression softened just slightly, enough to make her pulse quicken. “You will. But not here. You need to come with me.”

Amara didn’t know why she agreed. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the strange pull she felt toward him. Or maybe it was the fact that the rain had drenched her completely and she had nowhere else to go.

Whatever the reason, she followed him into the sleek black car waiting outside. The city lights reflected off the wet streets as he drove silently, the kind of silence that felt loaded with meaning, almost like a test.

Finally, he stopped in front of a towering building she didn’t recognize. “We’re here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Amara took a deep breath. Whatever this was, she had a feeling her life was about to change forever.