THE ENEMY'S DAUGHTER

Florence, Italy.

The rain falls heavily over Florence. Soaking the ground of the old cemetery causing the air to smell of gunpowder and blood..

Avelina Moretti dressed in black kneels before her father's coffin, her umbrella trembling in the wind as her hand could barely hold on to it.

"Eternal rest is granted unto him," the priest murmured. His voice was quiet, swallowed by the storm.

Don Marco Moretti lay still in a box of polished mahogany. The ruthless Mafia Lord who once made men hide in fear now looked so small and helpless.

Her father had made a promise to her that their family would always be protected and no harm would come to them but he had lied. He promised to die and old man surrounded by his entire family but he died young.

The people who came for Don Marco's funeral did not cry, instead they whispered and glanced over their shoulders every few seconds as though expecting bullets instead of sun to calm the rain.

Her throat burned. She wanted to scream at them, scream at the world but she no longer had any strength left so she kept her silence because that is all she had left.

Her world came crashing down two nights ago. Gunfire and broken glasses was the order of the night, Now all that was left for her was a grave, a prayer and a war she had not asked for.

Lighting flashed and the sound of thunder could be heard from miles away. The priest's voice cracked mind sentence as the sound of car engines could be heard rolling through the cemetery gate.

The sound belonged to her father's rivals. It belonged to the predators who took her father away from her.

Tires screeched. Doors slammed. Boots could be heard hitting the gravel path in perfect rhythm as the air thickened with tension.

Avelina's heart froze and even without turning her head she could already tell who it was.

Rossi men.

No... not here. Not today.

She thought in her head as she clenches her rosary.

Rough hands grabbed her as she screams and hits her legs for help but no one dared to help her but instead bowed their heads in fear.

"Let me go!" she shouts, her voice breaking. But her voice was lost in the winds.

A blindfold was soon placed over her eyes as roped bonds her wrist. The scent of leather boots and rainfall fills her nose as the drag her into a car.

The drive feels endless as each turns steals a piece of her courage.

When the car finally stops, the blindfold was ripped from her eyes and cold air slaps her across the face.

The first thing she sees is him.

Allessandro Rossi.

Tall. Sharp. Handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit.

The man her father had called enemy his entire life.

Standing under a streetlamp like he owns the night. Dark hair slicked back, eyes the color of burnt amber- sharp