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Chapter 3 - The Landlord’s Mistake

Elena was still wiping tears from her eyes, carefully hiding the stack of cash inside an old flour tin in her cupboard, when a violent kick rattled her front door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Open up, Elena! I know you're in there!" shouted a harsh, grating voice.

Elena’s heart leaped into her throat. She quickly grabbed the platinum watch, shoved it into her sweater pocket, and hurried to the door, opening it just a crack.

Standing on her porch was Mr. Vance—a greasy, overweight man in a stained suit—flanked by two towering men in leather jackets, their hands shoved deep into their pockets in a way that screamed danger.

"Mr. Vance," Elena stammered, holding her sweater tightly around her belly. "Rent isn't due until Friday—"

"Plans change, sweetie," Vance sneered, pushing the door open with his forearm, shoving past her into the tiny living room. "I need the apartment empty by noon. My new tenants pay double, and they pay in cash."

"You can't do this!" Elena cried out, backing away as the two heavy-set men stepped into her home, their eyes scanning her meager belongings with cruel indifference. "The law says you have to give me thirty days' notice!"

"The law?" Vance laughed nastily. "In this neighborhood, my friends here are the law. Pack your bags, Elena. Or my boys will throw your stuff onto the curb—and you with it."

One of the men—a brute with a jagged scar across his lip—stepped toward Elena, reaching out a hand to grab her arm. "Come on, lady. Don't make this difficult—"

CLACK.

The sound of three heavy car doors slamming simultaneously echoed from the street outside.

Before the scarred man could touch Elena’s arm, the front door was kicked off its hinges with a deafening CRACK, flying inward and shattering against the hallway wall.

Four men in immaculate black suits stormed into the tiny room, submachine guns raised, their movements terrifyingly synchronized. Within two seconds, Vance and his two enforcers were pinned against the wall, guns pressed hard against the backs of their necks.

Vance shrieked in terror. "What the hell?! Who are you?!"

The men didn't answer. They parted down the middle, making way for a figure who stepped calmly through the ruined doorway.

Julian Rossi walked into the small apartment as if he owned the entire block. His presence filled the tiny room, radiant with power, wealth, and an ancient, terrifying authority.

Elena backed away until her hips hit the kitchen counter, her wide brown eyes locked onto the tall stranger. He was overwhelmingly handsome, his features cut like a Roman statue, but the aura around him was purely predatory.

Julian ignored the men pinned against the wall. His hazel eyes swept over Elena, softening instantly as he noticed her trembling hands.

"Are you hurt, Elena?" he asked softly, his voice like velvet over steel.

Elena swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "N-no... who are you?"

Julian turned his gaze to Vance. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by an abyss of dark rage.

"Mr. Vance," Julian murmured, walking slowly toward the terrified landlord. "You broke into this lady’s house. You threatened an expectant mother. And worst of all... you ruined her front door."

"I-I'm sorry!" Vance whimpered, sweat pouring down his neck. "I didn't know she was under protection! I swear to God, I didn't know!"

Julian leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper that made Vance’s knees buckle. "She isn't just under protection, Vance. She is under my protection. I am Julian Rossi. And as of five minutes ago... I bought this entire building. I am your new boss."

Vance’s face went pale as snow. "Rossi..."

Julian gestured to Marco. "Take them into the alley. Make sure Mr. Vance understands the terms of his resignation."

As the guards dragged the screaming landlord and his men out into the rain, the apartment fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

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Julian turned back to Elena. He stepped closer, stopping just inches away, smelling the soft scent of lavender and rain on her skin.

"Don't be afraid, Elena," he whispered, reaching out a long, gloved finger to gently wipe a single tear from her pale cheek. "The monsters are gone now."

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