Chapter 3 : The Devil watches

Sophia spent the entire day trying to focus on her lectures.

It was impossible.

Every time she opened her notebook, her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious tuition payment and the unconscious stranger sleeping in her apartment.

Nothing about the situation made sense.

By the end of her final class, she had written half a page of notes and erased most of them without realizing it.

As students gathered their belongings and left the lecture hall, Sophia remained seated for a moment, staring blankly at the front of the room.

Her tuition had been paid.

Completely.

A problem that had consumed her life for months had vanished overnight.

Instead of relief, she felt uneasy.

Good things rarely happened without a reason.

And when they did, there was usually a price attached.

The walk home felt longer than usual.

Dark clouds hung low over the city, turning the late afternoon sky gray.

Cold wind rushed between the buildings.

People hurried past her without paying attention.

The city continued moving as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

As if her entire world hadn't shifted.

When she finally reached her apartment building, she climbed the stairs quickly.

A strange sense of urgency filled her chest.

She wasn't sure why.

Maybe she simply wanted answers.

Maybe she wanted proof that the stranger was still alive.

Maybe she was beginning to care more than she should.

The apartment door opened with a soft click.

Sophia stepped inside.

Then stopped.

The room felt different.

Not dangerous.

Different.

The stranger was still lying on the couch.

But something had changed.

His position.

His posture.

The blanket she had placed over him earlier now rested on the floor.

Sophia's pulse quickened.

Slowly, she approached.

His eyes remained closed.

His breathing remained steady.

Yet there was no doubt.

At some point during the day, he had moved.

Which meant he was getting stronger.

A surprising sense of relief washed over her.

She set down her backpack and walked toward the kitchen.

There wasn't much food in the apartment.

Just enough to survive another week.

Still, she prepared soup and left a bowl nearby in case he woke up.

Hours passed.

Evening settled over the city.

Rain tapped softly against the window.

Sophia sat at the table studying while occasionally glancing toward the couch.

Nothing.

No movement.

No sign that he was waking up.

Eventually exhaustion caught up with her.

Her eyes grew heavy.

Her head lowered slowly toward her textbook.

And before she realized it, she fell asleep.

Across the city, chaos unfolded inside Alessandro Moretti's empire.

Several men sat around a large conference table inside a private office.

The atmosphere was tense.

Dangerous.

Nobody spoke above a whisper.

Because their boss was missing.

For three days.

No calls.

No messages.

No orders.

Nothing.

Marco stood near the window watching the city below.

His expression remained calm, but everyone in the room could feel the tension underneath.

A younger man finally broke the silence.

"What if he's dead?"

The entire room froze.

Several heads turned immediately.

Fear flashed across the man's face as he realized his mistake.

Marco slowly looked at him.

"Don't say that again."

The warning was quiet.

That somehow made it worse.

Nobody spoke after that.

Because everyone knew the truth.

If Alessandro Moretti was dead, half the city would go to war before sunrise.

Meanwhile, in a modest apartment on the other side of Manhattan, the most powerful man in New York remained unconscious on a worn-out couch.

Completely unaware that his absence was creating panic.

Completely unaware that a struggling university student had saved his life.

Around midnight, Sophia woke suddenly.

A sound had pulled her from sleep.

Soft.

Barely audible.

She blinked and looked around the dark apartment.

Another sound followed.

A low groan.

Immediately she stood.

The stranger.

He was moving.

Sophia rushed toward the couch.

His face was tense.

Pain visible even while unconscious.

For the first time since bringing him home, she saw signs of awareness.

His fingers twitched.

His jaw tightened.

Then slowly, very slowly, his eyes began to open.

Sophia held her breath.

Dark eyes met hers.

Sharp.

Intense.

Even weakened by injury, they carried a dangerous presence.

For several seconds neither of them spoke.

The city outside seemed to disappear.

The apartment felt silent.

Still.

Suspended in time.

The stranger studied her carefully.

His expression unreadable.

Sophia's heart pounded against her ribs.

"You're awake," she whispered.

The man's gaze never left hers.

His voice, when it finally came, was rough from days of silence.

"Where am I?"

Sophia swallowed.

"In my apartment."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Then disappeared immediately.

His eyes moved around the room, taking in every detail.

The small kitchen.

The second-hand furniture.

The textbooks stacked on the table.

Everything.

When his gaze returned to her, something shifted.

Not recognition.

Curiosity.

As if he were seeing something unexpected.

Something he hadn't planned for.

And for the first time, Sophia felt truly nervous.

Because she had just realized something important.

This wasn't an ordinary man.

Not even close.

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