Rome never truly slept.

Even after midnight, the city breathed quietly beneath the golden glow of street lamps. Distant traffic hummed through the streets, and cold wind drifted between rows of ancient buildings.

Among those empty streets walked a woman.

Sylvia.

Tall and composed, she moved with an effortless grace that drew attention without trying. Her dark coat swayed gently around her legs as she walked. Her face wasn't the delicate kind people called cute.

Elegant.

Yet Sylvia preferred to remain unnoticed.

Her life was quiet.

Orderly.

The kind of life many people dreamed of but rarely achieved.

She spent her days teaching at the university, surrounded by books, ideas, and curious minds. In the evenings, she returned to the comfort of her home, often writing long into the night while the city outside slowly fell asleep.

There were no dramatic headlines attached to her name.

No scandals.

No chaos.

Only a respected professor, a successful author, and a woman who seemed perfectly content with the life she had built.

Calm.

Peaceful.

Predictable.

At least, that was how it appeared to anyone looking from the outside.

And Sylvia had become very good at maintaining appearances.

Tonight was no different.

Or so Sylvia believed.

The evening had followed its usual rhythm. After hours spent working on a manuscript, she finally closed her laptop and prepared to call it a night.

That was when she remembered she was out of coffee.

A small inconvenience.

Nothing more.

The convenience store a few blocks away was still open, so she slipped on her coat and stepped into the cool Roman night.

The streets were nearly deserted.

A soft breeze drifted through the city, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and laughter from somewhere far away.

The clock mounted on an old stone building showed 1:17 A.M.

Sylvia walked calmly, her hands tucked into her coat pockets.

For most people, the hour would have felt unsettling.

For her, it was peaceful.

The city seemed quieter after midnight, stripped of its usual noise and distractions.

She had almost reached the store when a strange feeling settled over her.

Subtle.

Difficult to explain.

As if something in the night had quietly shifted.

She slowed her pace.

Not because she was afraid.

Because she had learned long ago to trust her instincts.

And right now, they were telling her that something was different.

the air that shifted into something different.

not dangerous.

but unusual.

just wrong.

the front door was slightly open.

the lights inside flickered.

Sylvia stopped.

For a brief moment, silence settled over the street.

then-

A wet sound echoed from inside.

A sickening Crack.

followed by a low groan.

Most people would have walked away immediately.

Sylvia pushed the door open.

the scene inside is terrifying.

blood cover the floor.

the shelves.

the walls.

A man knelt in the center of the store.

Or what remained of him.

His face is almost unrecognizable beneath the damage.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air.

His face is almost unrecognizable beneath the damage.

the metallic scent of blood filled the air.

several men stood nearby.

and in fornt of them stood another figure.

the one responsible.

the atmosphere around him is colder than the blood-soacked room itself.

for a moment, nobody moved.

Nobody speak.

the stranger's gaze landed on Sylvia.

the other men immediately tensed.

one reached for his weapon.

waiting.

watching.

expecting fear.

shock.

screaming.

anything.

Sylvia finally speak.

"you're blocking the coffee aisle."

Silence.

one of the men stare at her in disbelief.

another look genuinely confuse.

the stranger remain still.

studying her.

Sylvia glanced toward the ruined aisle.

the coffee shelves had been splattered with blood.

A small frown appear on her face.

"Never mind".

Then she turn around.

and walk away.

No panic.

No rushing footsteps.

No trembling hands.

Nothing.

the door closed behind her.

the man inside remain frozen.

One finally break the silence.

"Boss..."

No answer came.

the stranger continues stare at the closed door.

watching the place where the woman had disappeared.

something about her is different.

Not weak.

and definitely not ordinary.

A person who witnessed such a scene should be terrified.

yet her eyes remain calm.

too calm.

as though she had seen worse.

much worse.

Slowly, the corner of his mouth curved upward.

For the first time that night, he found something more interesting than the corpse at his feet.

And outside, Sylvia continued walking through the empty streets of Rome.

Without realizing that the moment she stepped into that store—

someone had already begun watching her.

The streets of Rome remained quiet as Sylvia continued walking.

The cold wind brushed against her coat.

Her footsteps were steady.

Unhurried.

Then another set of footsteps appeared behind her.

Heavy.

Measured.

Not trying to hide.

Sylvia noticed immediately.

Of course she did.

But she didn't stop.

Whoever it was knew she had noticed.

Of course she did.

But she didn't stop.

Whoever it was knew she had noticed.

The footsteps drew closer.

Three steps.

Two.

One.

Sylvia finally stopped.

Slowly, she turned around.

The street lamp above cast a pale glow across the empty road.

A tall figure stood only a few steps away.

The height difference between them was noticeable, yet not enough to prevent their eyes from meeting directly.

Neither looked away.

The street lamp above cast a pale glow across the empty road.

A tall figure stood only a few steps away.

The height difference between them was noticeable, yet not enough to prevent their eyes from meeting directly.

Neither looked away.

For several seconds, silence stretched between them.

Then the man extended a paper cup toward her.

Coffee.

Freshly made.

The corner of Sylvia's eyebrow lifted slightly.

The man spoke first.

"Thought you came for this."

His voice is calm.

his eyes looking directly at her more like observing.

Sylvia glanced at the cup before taking it from his hand.

A small nod.

Nothing more.

No thanks.

No questions.

most people would have been terrified.

she behaved as if they were strangers meeting on an ordinary night.

the man's eyes narrowed slightly.

interesting.

very interesting.

then the cold metal of a gun pressed against Sylvia's forehead.

Then the cold metal of a gun pressed against Sylvia's forehead.

The movement was so sudden most people wouldn't have reacted in time.

Sylvia simply looked at him.

Her expression didn't change.

Not even a little.

No fear.

No surprise.

Nothing.

The silence that followed was heavier than the weapon itself.

The man studied her carefully.

Searching.

Waiting.

Yet her eyes remained calm.

Far too calm.

Almost as if she had expected this moment the second he left the store.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly.

Sylvia took a sip of coffee.

Even with a gun pointed at her head.

"I could ask the same."

The answer wasn't useful.

But neither was her reaction.

Most people begged.

Most people lied.

Most people shook.

This woman drank coffee.

The man's gaze darkened.

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

Not amusement.

Interest.

Dangerous interest.

"You're either incredibly brave," he said.

"Or incredibly stupid."

Sylvia lowered the cup.

"Neither."

The man stared at her for a moment.

Then the gun disappeared.

for a brief second it seem that the confrontation has end.

Then—

Something struck the side of Sylvia's neck.

A sharp sting.

A tranquilizer.

Her vision blurred almost immediately.

The street lights stretched into golden lines.

The coffee cup slipped from her fingers and shattered against the pavement.

Yet even as darkness consumed her vision, she remained strangely calm.

No struggle.

No panic.

Nothing.

As though being kidnapped was merely an inconvenience.

The last thing Sylvia saw was the man's face.

Watching her.

Studying her.

Trying to solve a puzzle.

Then darkness swallowed everything.

When Sylvia opened her eyes again, darkness greeted her.

A single light hung from the ceiling.

The room was cold.

Concrete walls.

No windows.

No obvious exit.

The faint scent of smoke lingered in the air.

Sylvia sat up slowly.

Her head throbbed.

She examined the room once.

Twice.

​Three times.

​Calculating.

​Observing.

​Searching.

​Only after confirming every detail did she lean back against the chair.

​And wait.

​Because whoever had brought her here would eventually come.

​And when they did—

​The real conversation would begin.

Sylvia sat quietly.

​Her wrists were bound to the chair.

​The ropes were tight.

​The room was dark enough that she could barely make out the walls around her.

​Silence filled the space.

​Then—

​The sound of a heavy door opening echoed through the room.

​Several footsteps entered.

​Not one person.

​Multiple.

​Large men from the sound of it.

​One stopped behind her.

​Another moved to her left.

​A third remained near the door.

​Guards.

Sylvia noted their positions without moving her head.

​Then a new pair of footsteps approached.

​Steady.

​Unhurried.

​Confident.

​The person stopped directly in front of her.

​Metal scraped softly against metal.

​A dagger.

​Someone was casually turning it between their fingers.

​The atmosphere was threatening.

​Clearly intentional.

​A small raise of Sylvia's eyebrow was her only reaction.

Interesting.

A click echoed.

the room flood with light.

Sylvia.