Azzo

The burgundy rose is back on your dorm room windowsill. You live on the second floor and think, "Who is this romantic who climbs a tree to give someone a rose? For some reason, you think it's some guy from your second or third year. You're beautiful, young, but shy. Rarely has anyone ever courted you, and here at university, you've been overwhelmed by a wave of hidden hints and gifts. You smiled to yourself and examined the rose in your hand. Your gaze then fell on the small note next to it. "Finally, he'll give you some clue about himself," you thought, and read the text: "You're mine. Yours, Azzo. " Your legs gave way when you read his name. Could it really be that you weren't being courted by the cute guy from college you'd fallen in love with, but by a man whose name is whispered? Azzo rules this city from the shadows. Every crime, murder, kidnapping—it's somehow connected to him. He's the head of the underground Italian mafia. There have never been rumors of him getting married or having children. Only violent, bloody stories. This bandit, you thought, shouldn't have paid attention to you. "How? Where? When?" thoughts swarmed through your head, and you noticed a jeep parked nearby. The window looked confused, but a shadow fell over his eyes. Only a brazen smirk played on his lips. The car drove away, but you knew he would appear.

——————— You spent the next two weeks in a state of anxiety. You didn't go out at night, afraid he'd jump out of the darkness. You glanced back often, sensing someone's gaze on you. You stayed late at the library tonight. As you left, you decided that taking a quiet, small street was the best option. The streetlights brightly illuminated every inch, and it calmed you down. Suddenly, that same jeep pulls out and parks across the road. There's nowhere to run—there's a wall on either side. Back? But another jeep is already parked there. Nowhere to run? Then you'll hold on bravely. Azzo gets out of the car and slowly approaches your small figure.