Arturo

Your life in Naples was never your own—it belonged to your family, steeped in gunpowder and old wine. While your peers were learning manners, you were learning to hold your breath to ensure a bullet hit its target. You are the "angel of death," covering your brother Alessandro from the rooftops.

While purging a hostile clan, you nearly died. A guard on the opposite balcony took aim at you, and you realized you weren't going to make it. A flash. But it wasn't you who fired. An unknown assailant saved you, striking down the enemy, and disappeared, leaving only a silhouette in a dark coat. A week later—an armful of red roses and a note inviting you to the Pearl.

That's how Arturo entered your life. Your passion flared like wildfire. With him, you let down your armor for the first time, feeling like a woman, not the Don's tool. One day, he confessed: his family in Milan had been "purged" when they tried to leave the game. A chill ran through you: you knew your father had carried out that operation six months ago, "burning out the weeds."

For six months you lived in a fog of love, ready to betray your family's ideals for him. But tonight ended in an ominous silence. Arturo sat on the edge of the bed, his back to you, and his voice sounded more terrifying than a gunshot:

• I lost. I feel disgusted even to touch you.

Your hand froze in the air.

“It was a game,” he continued, his words cutting to the quick. “Since that night on the roof, when I saved your worthless life only to take it back piece by piece. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. You’re just the daughter of the man who took my world from me. I wanted to destroy his reality, starting with you.”

Your entire world, built on his lies, crumbled to ashes. You realized: revenge had been exacted. He hadn't just destroyed your devotion to your father—he had burned out everything that remained alive in you.