CHAPTER ONE:
The sun was at it's peak that day. The streets was chaos- vendors were shouting on top of their lungs- noise nd motion layered grim.
Cars and motorbikes weaves through narrow gaps like wasps with engines. A woman cursed as a bag of apples hit the ground and rolled into the gutter. No one stopped to help. No one stopped for anything.
Which made it perfect for her. Her eyes scanned the crowd and that was when she saw him.
Her target.
He walked with deliberate calmness that made him stand out in the city built on urgency. His shoes clicked cleanly on the uneven pavement, his hands folded behind his back like he had nowhere to be and nothing to prove. His coat was too nice. Too full.
"Easy target," she thought with a smile.
She slid into the crowd, making her way behind him. She was just like a shadow in the crowd, thin enough to vanish between bodies.
Quick fingers, practiced grip— she almost had it.
Then a hand clamped down of her wrist.
"Nice try," he said, his smooth voice stopped her dead.
She looked up and made eye contact with him. The world around her kept spinning.
The market buzzed, the mopeds whined, a couple argued over the price of vegetables. The city didn't care that she'd been caught. It never did.
He didn't look angry. Not yet.
He looked…curious.
Like he'd found something on the sidewalk and wasn't sure whether to pocket it or toss it back.
"I could break your arm," he said calm as Sunday mass. "Or I could feed you."
Her stomach growled loudly, betraying her.
He didn't loosen his grip. But he did tilt his head just slightly, studying her like he already knew the ending of a story she hadn't written yet.
"Come on ragazza, you steal from me, you owe me."
She hesitated. Not out of fear but calculation.
Run and risk it, or follow him and follow him and see what happens?
She met his eyes. They were sharp. Not just watching— measuring.
She nodded once.
He released her wrist but she could feel the imprint of his fingers long after he turned and started walking away.
She followed.
They walked for several minutes making their way through the crowd. She watched him with a frown, sweat dripping down her eyes brows into her eyes causing them to sting.
Was he going to keep walking? Wasn't he going to turn to make sure she was following him? Was she safe with him? She didn't trust him, but trust was a luxury for people with homes and parents. She had none.
She had a knife—a stolen knife in her stolen boots. And a fire that never went out.
They turned down a quiet alley where the sounds of the market faded into the low hum of the city. The air shifted here, like it always did when you crossed into a territory that belonged to someone powerful.
Quieter. Cleaner. More dangerous.
They stopped beside a sleek black car idling at the curb. It was flashy in the obvious sense— not some gaudy sports car but it was expensive in a way that whispered instead of shouted.
A man standing beside the car quickly opened the back passenger side.
"Don Emilio," he said, dipping his head in a slight deliberate bow— not out of fear but reverence.
The kind of respect earned over decades, in blood and silence.
"Get in," the man said, his voice calm but edged with something underneath— not anger, just certainty.
She stared at the opened door and glanced back at the old man.
"I don't get into strangers' cars. Besides where are we going?"
He took a slow and patient breath. "You tried to rob me, I'm offering you a ride instead. That should tell you everything."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"This isn't some kind of a trap?"
"If it were, " he said meeting her eyes. "You wouldn't still be standing."
She looked at the suited man who didn't move. He just held the door like he already knew her choice. The girl looked at the seat, then back at the street behind her— empty, cold and going nowhere.
She got in.
The old man settled next to her and the door was slammed shut.
Soon they were on the road.
The ride was a silent one; with the girl looking outside the window, looking at the harsh streets she was forced to live on.
"What's your name?" The question pulled her out of thoughts.
"Ivy," she simply shrugged.
"And what are you doing on the streets?"
I y took in a deep breath and turned her attention back to the window.
"I asked you a question," Don Emilio's voice was gentle, yet held so much authority.
"I live on the streets, does that answer your question?" Ivy rolled her eyes, earning a chuckle from Don Emilio.
"How old are you?"
"Twelve."
"And where are your parents?"
"Dunno, grew up in the orphanage," Ivy shrugged casually.
"I tried to steal from you and all you're going to do is ask me questions?" Ivy spoke up with a frown before Don Emilio could talk.
"Have you ever been to school?"
Ivy shook her head and Don Emilio nodded.
The ride returned to its usual silence u til they arrived they arrived in front of huge metal gates.
Ivy's eyes widened in shock as the gates opened by themselves and the driver drove in.
Ivy had always heard of how rich people lived in huge houses but this was beyond her imagination. Everything she was seeing was too good to be true.
There was a huge water fountain that was made up out Don Emilio's statue. The statue sat on a modeled throne like a king. The huge compound smelt of delicate flowers that were planted in a garden on the left side of the building. The right side was decorated with false grass and there was a huge summer hit for shade and a huge pool as well.
"You coming down or not?" A voice pulled her out of thoughts and she quickly got out of the car.
She followed the old man into the house, wondering why there there so many guards in the area. The aroma of different foods greeted them as they walked into the huge living room, causing Ivy's stomach to growl loudly.
She found herself looking around for the source of the delicious foods.
"Tony?!" Don Emilio called out and a man a few years younger than him walked out. "Take her to the dining room and feed her. Also have the maids prepare a room and bath for her.
"Right away Don," the man said bowing slightly before ushering Ivy to the dining room.
**********
Don Emilio sat in his secret room, watching the young girl devour every plate of food given to her like a wild animal. Something about her drew him in. Something he couldn't point out.
Did he feel sorry for her?
He chuckled at the thought. He wasn't one to feel sorry for her.
He stared at her long and hard, from her tattered worn out clothes to her shoes and dirty greasy hair.
He couldn't help but notice how even when she was eating, she didn't let her guard down. Her eyes were moving around as if she was expecting something to jump out and attack her.
He let out a long breath as he picked his phone and dialed a number.
"I'm sending you a picture of a girl. Her name is Ivy. Check every single orphanage and get me all the information I need about her before tomorrow. "
Without waiting for another second he hang up. He returned his gaze back to the huge monitor in front of him just in time to see what was going on in the dining area.
—————-
Ivy knew not to let her guard down. With the maximum security in this house, it was either Don Emilio was an important person or was into child trafficking. She was sure it was the second option given how he just brought her home after she tried to steal from him.
Just then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her survival instincts shot up and she immediately grabbed the person's fingers and twisted in an uncomfortable way.
"What the fuck?" A woman shouted, but Ivy didn't let go.
She quickly reached for her knife but a guard quickly grabbed her before she could attack.
"What is wrong with you? I just came to tell you your bath is ready. You sick child," the woman yelled wiggling her fingers to ease the pain.
"Oh…..I'm sorry," Ivy quickly apologized but that didn't stop the woman from glaring at her.
"Wonder where the boss brought you from," she scoffed.
"Follow her and don't do anything stupid,"the guard who was holding her instructed and Ivy nodded.
She followed the maid up the stairs and past several doors until they stopped in front of one.
"Go in. I've filled the bathtub for you and there's a dress on the bed."
With that the maid shoved her into the room and left.