THE DEVIL'S ROSE "CLAIMED BY THE MAFIA LORD:

The night air tasted like rust.

Elena crouched behind a dumpster overflowing with rot, her breath hitched and uneven, her lungs burning from the sprint. The city buzzed faintly around her-honking horns, a distant siren, footsteps that might not have been real. But here, in this alley, the world was silent.

Her knees shook. Her hands trembled. And her heart pounded so loud she swore it would give her away.

She pressed her back against the cold brick, her eyes flicking to the shadows stretching along the wall. Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't think.

But I saw it. God, I saw everything.

Something wet dripped from her elbow.

Blood.

Not hers.

Marissa's.

Elena bit down on a sob, clamping her palm over her mouth as the memory rose-vivid, violent, and merciless.

Flashback – 40 Minutes Earlier

"I swear, if that guy from the bodega stares at me one more time, I'm calling ICE on his ass," Marissa joked, lounging barefoot on their faded sofa, her curls twisted into a lazy bun, and her laugh like a warm summer breeze in the room.

Elena sat cross-legged on the floor, their acceptance letter in her lap. "You're such a drama queen. He's like... seventy."

"Exactly. He's got death and debt in his eyes, and he checks out my ass. Double violation."

They'd been sipping cheap boxed wine, toasting Elena's internship at one of the best hospitals in the city. It was everything she'd worked for. Late-night shifts. Back-to-back classes. No sleep. No dates. Just hustle.

Marissa, ever her cheerleader, had insisted on celebrating.

"Next stop: Nurse Rivera, saving the world, one hot ER doctor at a time," she teased.

Elena laughed, rolling her eyes. "Shut up."

Then the door creaked.

Just a crack. Barely noticeable.

Marissa frowned. "Did you leave it-?"

The next moment shattered time.

A man stepped in-silent as death. Dressed in all black. No mask. Just a face carved in stone and ink winding down his throat like a snake choking its prey.

Elena blinked, confused-processing too slow.

Marissa stood up. "Excuse me-"

Two shots.

Loud.

Close.

Final.

Blood bloomed like a rose across Marissa's chest. Her eyes widened-confused first, then afraid.

She fell.

And Elena fell with her. Crawling to her knees. Hands pressing against the wound. "No no no-Marissa. Stay with me! Please-"

But Marissa's mouth moved without sound. Her body jerked once. Then stilled.

The man didn't run. He watched.

Like a hunter admiring his kill.

"You saw nothing, chica," he murmured, wiping the barrel of the gun with a cloth pulled from his pocket. "They only paid me for one."

He turned away.

Elena looked up-shaking, breathless. "Why? Why her?!"

He paused.

"She talked too much."

Then he left. Calm. Clean. Unhurried.

Back to the Present

Elena doubled over in the alley, dry heaving, the wine from earlier now a sour puddle near her feet. Her fingers clawed at her scalp, her body shuddering from cold and shock. Her friend. Her sister. Her only family in this city-gone.

Because she "talked too much."

What did that even mean? Did she say something to someone? Did she hear something she shouldn't?

Did Elena bring this danger into their home without knowing?

She should've begged him. Fought him. Something. Anything. But she froze.

And now she was alone.

The sky rumbled overhead. A storm brewing. The kind that made even rats seek shelter. Elena didn't have that luxury. Her only shelter was the foul stink of rotting trash and a hope that the killer didn't double back.

Why did he leave me alive?

She gritted her teeth.

Because I was meant to suffer.

They didn't kill witnesses. Not right away. Not when they could be tracked or traced. He wanted her to run. He wanted her to panic. Because panic made people sloppy.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember every detail.

The tattoo. Snake coiled up his neck. Pale scar under his eye.

The way he walked-not rushed. Not careful. Like he knew he had time.

Like no one would stop him.

Elena, what do you do when they come? Marissa's voice echoed in her memory.

You run. You don't call anyone. You disappear.

Elena staggered up, hugging herself. Her knees scraped, her foot bleeding from broken glass, but she limped into the street, blinking against the city lights.

And then-headlights.

Slow. Searching. A black SUV rolled down the lane, tinted windows catching the reflection of her terrified face in the glass.

She froze.

The SUV paused.

Reversed.

Her heart stopped.

They found me.