The Mafia's Adopted Princess

NOVARIA'S POV

People's obsession with winter had always baffled me.

The soft snow, cozy sweaters, hot chocolate by the fireplace... everyone made it sound magical. But to me, winter was nothing more than a cruel season wrapped in pretty lies. No matter how many layers I wore, the cold always found its way into my bones, the streets became empty too early, the skies looked permanently angry, I don't get to hangout with friends, and I spent most days trapped indoors like a prisoner serving a sentence.

I hated it.

A sigh escaped my lips as I stared through my bedroom window at the dark clouds swallowing the night sky whole. The streetlights flickered weakly against the heavy fog outside, barely illuminating the snow-covered sidewalks.

It was already 10PM.

Too late for anyone reasonable to still be outside.

As if winter wasn't enough punishment for me, it was actually my worst day of the week.

Monday.

I rubbed my palms together and tucked them beneath my armpits, trying to preserve what little warmth remained in my body.

Maybe a cup of tea would help.

Dragging my feet across the wooden floor, I made my way downstairs toward the kitchen.

The scent of simmering stew filled the air, mixing with the warmth radiating from the stove. For a moment, I relaxed. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

I had just reached for the kettle when my mother walked in.

"Novaria, I need you to go buy a loaf of bread for dinner."

I slowly turned to look at her, disbelief written all over my face.

"Right now?" I scoffed. "It's freezing outside. And it's dark."

"And?" she replied flatly, not even sparing me a glance as she stirred the pot on the stove. "The store is only a few blocks away. Grab a coat and stop acting dramatic. Dinner is almost ready."

Before I could protest again, she walked out of the kitchen.

I stood there in stunned silence.

Honestly, if Morgana had been my age mate, or better yet, my younger sister, I would have dragged her by the hair and spanked every ounce of stubbornness out of her.

My mother and I were like oil and water. We argued constantly, sometimes over the smallest things imaginable. But somehow, she always found a way to make herself the victim. Admitting she was wrong was apparently beneath her dignity, and that alone irritated me beyond words.

Ever since Dad left, things between us had only gotten worse.

I trudged back upstairs with a scowl etched onto my face and pulled my thick coat from the wardrobe. My baby cat curled lazily on the bed, blinking sleepily at me.

"You're lucky you get to stay warm," I muttered, gently stroking its tiny head.

The cat purred softly while I sighed in defeat and headed downstairs.

The moment I opened the front door, an icy gust slammed into me like a physical force.

"God!"

I instantly shivered as freezing air crawled beneath my coat and wrapped around my skin. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my entire body.

I pulled the coat tighter around myself.

"It's just bread," I whispered under my breath. "I'll be back in five minutes. Then I'm burying myself under my blanket for the rest of the night."

The streets were eerily quiet. Snow crunched beneath my boots as I walked quickly down the sidewalk, my breath visible in the freezing air. Every passing second made me regret not arguing harder with my mother.

What kind of parent sends their daughter out alone at night in this weather?

"Morgana has officially lost her mind," I grumbled to myself.

Seeing that It was already late for regrets, I quickened my pace and forced myself not to think about it since I was already heading to the store.

The deeper I went into the street, the quieter everything became. Then I heard voices. Male voices. Loud and tough.

My heartbeat immediately slowed with unease.

At first, I tried ignoring them and kept walking, lowering my head as I tightened my grip on my coat. Maybe if I walked fast enough, they wouldn't notice me.

But as I got closer, I realized the voices were coming from a dark alley ahead.

Three men sat there, partially hidden by shadows and cigarette smoke. And they were staring directly at me.

My stomach dropped. Once again, I instantly began to regret not going back.

"Hey there, pretty girl," one of them called out with a crooked grin. "What's someone like you doing out this late?"

The others burst into drunken laughter.

I kept walking. Faster this time.

My pulse hammered violently against my chest as fear slowly crept into my veins.

"Hey!" the man shouted again. "I'm talking to you, bitch!"

Before I could react, footsteps rushed toward me. Then, a rough hand grabbed my wrist hard.

I gasped as my body jerked backward.

"Let go of me!" I snapped, panic instantly flooding my system.

But the man only laughed. His grip tightened painfully around my arm as he yanked me toward the alley.

I opened my mouth to scream, but his filthy hand clamped over it before any sound could escape.

My eyes widened in terror.

"Mmhh!".I struggled violently, kicking and twisting against him, but he was too strong.

The other two men stood up slowly, their disgusting smirks making my skin crawl.

"Oh damn," one of them whistled. "She's prettier up close."

"I bet she tastes even sweeter too," another man disgustingly said, laughing like a hyena, smoke curling from the cigarette hanging between his lips.

Fear exploded inside me.

"Please...stop this madness." I cried once his hand loosened slightly. "Please let me go."

But they only laughed harder.

The first man suddenly slapped me hard across the face..Pain burst through my cheek as my body crashed onto the icy ground.

For a second, my ears rang. I tasted blood in my mouth. Tears instantly blurred my vision, not from weakness, but from pure fear.

I had never been this terrified in my entire life.

The man crouched beside me, his fingers brushing against my shoulder in a way that made my stomach twist violently.

"Now," he grinned wickedly, "let's have some fun."

Then suddenly, Heavy footsteps echoed through the alley.

The laughter stopped.

A strange silence fell over the atmosphere.

I looked up. A tall figure emerged from the darkness like something pulled straight out of a nightmare. The dim streetlight behind him cast long shadows across the snow, making him appear even more intimidating. He wore a black jacket over dark denim jeans, expensive leather boots crunching against the ice as he walked forward slowly. Gold glinted around his neck and wrist. Tattoos crawled along his hands and disappeared beneath his sleeves.

Everything about him screamed danger.

Real danger.

Behind him stood several muscular men dressed in black, their expressions cold and unreadable.

The entire alley suddenly felt suffocating. The three men who had attacked me immediately stiffened. Fear flashed across their faces. And that was when I came to the conclusion that he could be their Boss.

My breathing became shaky as panic overwhelmed me. Without thinking, I crawled across the icy ground toward him, my knees scraping painfully against the snow.

"Please..." I begged desperately, clutching onto the edge of his coat. "Please let me go, sir... I swear I didn't do anything..."

The strange man furrowed his brows. It was certain he knew those guys, but it was far from being a friends

NOVARIA'S POV

"Jake," the stranger's deep voice cut through the freezing air like a blade, "what the fuck did I tell you the last time?"

The entire alley fell silent. Even the wind seemed to stop moving.

My shaky gaze slowly shifted toward the man who had grabbed me earlier.

Jake.

The color drained from his face instantly. For the first time since this nightmare began, the disgusting confidence in his eyes vanished completely. He looked terrified. Truly terrified. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape route through the dark alley.

There wasn't one.

And somehow... that terrified me even more.

The tall stranger walked past me slowly, his expensive boots crunching against the snow-covered ground. Every movement he made carried a dangerous kind of calmness, the kind that didn't need shouting to command fear.

Behind him, the muscular men dressed in black stood like statues.

I swallowed hard and wrapped my trembling arms around myself.

At that moment, I silently promised myself something. Never again. Never again would I let Morgana send me out on errands at night. She could starve before I stepped foot outside in this weather and hour again.

"Boss.." Jake finally croaked.

"Guys," the stranger interrupted coldly.

Immediately, four of his men stepped forward.

"Get rid of them."

His voice remained calm. Too calm.

"I've given these assholes too many chances already."

The effect was immediate. Jake and the others instantly dropped to their knees.

"Boss, please!"

"Sylvester, we swear it won't happen again! Please forgive us!"

My breath caught in my throat.

Sylvester. That was his name.

The men who had attacked me were now trembling and begging like frightened animals. Their earlier arrogance had completely disappeared. But Sylvester didn't react. Not even slightly.

He simply stood there with one hand tucked inside his pocket, his expression unreadable. The falling snow settled lightly on his dark hair and shoulders, yet he remained motionless, staring at them as though they were nothing more than stains beneath his shoes.

Then, Gunshots exploded through the alley.

I gasped sharply.

My entire body jerked in fear as the deafening sound echoed violently around us.

One.

Two.

Three.

The world seemed to freeze. I couldn't even scream. My ears rang painfully while horror rooted me to the spot. My eyes widened as Jake and the others collapsed onto the icy ground, their pleading abruptly silenced.

For a moment, all I could hear was the wind. My breathing became uneven as panic consumed me whole.

Sylvester slowly turned toward me. And for the first time since he appeared, fear truly settled deep inside my chest. Not because of the men anymore. But because of him.

His dark eyes landed on me, studying my trembling figure carefully. I hadn't even realized how badly I was shaking until he stepped closer.

The cold no longer mattered. I had completely forgotten about winter.

When Sylvester lifted his hand slightly toward me, I flinched instinctively. His jaw tightened almost unnoticeably.

"Who are you?" he asked calmly. "And what are you doing out here this late?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

I was terrified. Terrified of him. Terrified of the blood staining the snow behind him. Terrified that if I answered wrongly, I might end up just like those men.

Noticing my silence, Sylvester exhaled quietly before extending his hand toward me.

"Stand up."

I hesitated..But somehow, his voice no longer sounded threatening.

Slowly, I placed my trembling hand into his. The warmth of his palm startled me.

He pulled me up effortlessly, and I nearly stumbled from how weak my legs had become.

"I..." My voice cracked badly. "I was going to the store when those men dragged me into the alley and tried to..."

The words refused to come out. Tears burned my eyes all over again. Humiliation. Fear. Shock. Everything crashed into me at once.

And somehow, what hurt the most was knowing that none of this would have happened if my mother had simply cared enough not to send me out alone.

I quickly looked away, embarrassed by my tears. That was when the cold returned violently.

A harsh shiver ripped through my body, making my teeth chatter uncontrollably.

Sylvester noticed immediately. Without saying a word, he removed his black jacket and draped it carefully over my shoulders.

The warmth nearly made me cry again.

The jacket was huge on me, practically swallowing my small frame whole, and it carried a faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with smoke and winter air. Yet despite how ridiculous I probably looked, Sylvester didn't laugh. His expression remained serious.

"Go home," he said quietly. "You're safe now."

His eyes flickered briefly toward the bodies behind us. "And trust me when I say those bastards will never touch you or anyone else again."

I looked up at him slowly. For the first time, I truly saw his face. Sharp jawline. Dark hair slightly damp from the snow. Cold brown eyes that somehow still carried something strangely protective beneath all that danger. He looked terrifying.But somehow....I didn't feel unsafe beside him anymore.

My heartbeat slowly steadied. Only a little.

Sylvester is quite too tall for my liking, as he was much taller than I was. I was just 159cm tall, while Sylvester was at least 190cm. I didn't really feel intimidated at that moment, because he was actually the one that saved me from these bad guys.

I was quite relieved at everything and just couldn't wait to get back home. Suddenly, I realized I was still wearing his jacket and immediately took it off my shoulders.

Seeing this made Sylvester furrow his brows in surprise, keeping quiet to know what I was up to.

"Sorry sir, but I think you must be cold already", I said as I awkwardly stood on my toe, and tried to put back the jacket on him the same way he had done for me; but he was too tall for me to do it.

Sylvester's face suddenly softened, and he let out a chuckle. Although it was the first time I had seen him, it really looked weird to see him laugh; even his men looked at each other from a distance full of surprise.

I turned around to know what was making him laugh, only to discover that I was the reason. I was currently standing on my tiptoes. I felt quite ashamed of the situation, and had to bring my hands down, resting completely on my feet; then quietly tried placing it on his hand. But he pushed it gently back toward me.

"I gave it to you," he said.

His voice softened slightly.

"So keep it."

He adjusted the coat around my shoulders himself before adding,

"You should head home now. It's late."

His large hands briefly rested on my shoulders, steady and warm. Then he turned away and began walking toward the black SUV parked near the road. His men followed immediately.

Panic suddenly rushed through me.

"No, wait!"

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. The moment I did, my entire body stiffened.

What the hell was I doing?

Even his men reacted instantly, stepping toward me aggressively. But Sylvester stopped them with a single raised hand.

The alley fell silent again.

Slowly, he looked down at my hand gripping his wrist. Then at me. Confusion flickered briefly across his face.

"What is it?" he asked.

I swallowed nervously.

"What if..." My voice trembled badly. "What if I don't want to go home?"

Sylvester frowned slightly.

"What?"

"I don't want to go back to my mother," I admitted quietly. "She doesn't really care about me... and I don't want to stay there anymore."

The moment the words left my mouth, regret slammed into me.

Why was I telling him this?

He was a complete stranger.

A dangerous stranger.

Embarrassment flooded my face instantly.

"I....I'm sorry," I stammered quickly, lowering my gaze. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't even know why I did. Forget it... I should just leave."

That was when I realized I was still holding his wrist. Mortified, I immediately let go and stepped back.

Sylvester remained silent. His eyes searched mine carefully, almost like he was trying to understand something.

Seconds passed. Cold wind swept through the alley once more.

When he still said nothing, I forced myself to turn away.

"You can come with me."

My footsteps halted instantly.

NOVARIA'S POV

"You can come with me."

For a moment, I genuinely thought I had heard him wrong.

Slowly, I turned toward him. His expression remained unreadable, those dark brown eyes fixed on me calmly as though he hadn't just invited a complete stranger Into his home.

I searched his face carefully, trying to understand what exactly was going on inside his head. But nothing. Not a single emotion gave him away.

Then reality crashed into me.

Wait.

How could I possibly go home with a stranger?

A dangerous stranger.

Yes, he had saved me. Yes, he had protected me when nobody else did. But this was still a man who had stood there emotionlessly while people were shot to death right in front of me.

How could I be sure I would be safe with him?

I swallowed nervously.

Maybe going back home wasn't such a terrible idea after all. At least there, I knew what to expect. My mother might not care about me the way she should, but she was still my mother. Besides, if I truly wanted to leave home, I had friends I could stay with.

But even that thought quickly faded. All my friends still lived with their families. Showing up at their doorstep in the middle of the night with nowhere else to go felt humiliating. Worse, it would raise too many questions I wasn't ready to answer.

I lowered my gaze, completely lost in thought. And somehow, Sylvester noticed immediately.

"Since you don't trust me," he said calmly, shoving one hand into his pocket, "you can either go back to the home you hate so much..." He slowly walked past me toward the black SUV parked by the roadside. "...or stay out here in the cold until another group of animals finds you."

His voice was flat. Like he genuinely didn't care what choice I made. But somehow, I could tell he already knew I would follow him. That annoyed me more than it should have.

I watched him continue toward the car while frustration battled heavily inside my chest.

Why did he have to make sense?

I hated the fact that going with him somehow felt safer than returning home. Yet at the same time, that thought terrified me.

Sylvester was dangerous. Everything about him screamed danger. The expensive black clothes. The tattoos. The armed men following behind him like bodyguards. The calm way he ordered people's deaths as though it meant absolutely nothing. He wasn't just involved with dangerous people. He led them.

I remained rooted to the spot as my thoughts tangled together violently inside my head.

Then suddenly, panic hit me. Sylvester had already entered the car. The engine started.

"Oh God..." My eyes widened.

"Okay wait!" I shouted suddenly. "Stop! I'll go with you!"

Without thinking twice, I broke into a run through the snow.

The SUV had barely begun moving before it slowed down again. One of the men opened the back door for me silently.

Breathing heavily, I climbed inside. The warmth of the car instantly wrapped around my freezing body.

I looked around in shock.

The interior alone looked more expensive than anything I had ever touched in my life. Black leather seats. Soft golden lighting. A faint scent of luxury cologne lingering in the air. Everything looked elegant.

The second vehicle carrying his men followed closely behind us while only Sylvester, the driver, and I remained in the first SUV.

An awkward silence filled the car almost immediately.

Sylvester sat beside me calmly, one arm resting against the door while his sharp gaze remained fixed ahead.

He didn't even look at me..Not once.

The atmosphere became suffocatingly quiet. I nervously rubbed my fingers together.

Should I say something?

Should I stay quiet?

Eventually, my conscience won.

"Sir..." I began softly. "Thank you for saving me back there."

No response. Sylvester remained completely still. Not even a glance.

I swallowed awkwardly before trying again.

"And... thank you for the jacket too. You really saved me from freezing."

Still nothing.

At this point, I felt like I was talking to a statue.

I glanced at him cautiously.

Was he angry?

Annoyed?

Emotionless?

I honestly couldn't tell.

"And lastly...thank you for...."

I suddenly paused.

Wait. I blinked.

"Where exactly are we going?"

That finally earned me a reaction.

Sylvester exhaled slowly and leaned his head back slightly against the seat.

"Do you know you talk too much?" he asked in a low voice.

Heat instantly rushed to my cheeks.

"Oh." I quickly looked away toward the window in embarrassment. "Sorry."

Outside, snow continued falling heavily across the empty streets while silence returned once more. Then unexpectedly, Sylvester spoke again.

"I don't even know your name yet," he muttered. "But you've already asked enough questions for one night."

I nervously bit the inside of my cheek.

"Everything I did for you was nothing," he continued calmly. "And we're going to my house. Satisfied now?"

I nodded quickly.

"Yes."

God, I sounded stupid.

A few seconds later, realization hit me again. I hadn't even introduced myself. Meanwhile, this man had literally rescued me and brought me into his car.

I turned toward him awkwardly.

"My name is Novaria," I said softly. "What about yours?"

One side of his mouth twitched faintly.

"So now you're asking?"

I looked down in embarrassment again.

"I'm sorry..."

"Sylvester," he answered finally. "Though I'm pretty sure you already heard them say it earlier." His gaze shifted toward me briefly. "So stop calling me 'sir.'"

A small smile escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"I actually like your name," I admitted quietly. "I think I'll call you Sly instead."

For the second time that night, Sylvester smiled. And honestly? Seeing a man like him smile felt strangely dangerous.

My heart skipped embarrassingly hard.

-----

The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence. Not uncomfortable silence. Just... quiet.

Every now and then, I caught myself stealing tiny glances at him. At the tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves. At the expensive watch resting around his wrist. At the sharpness of his jawline whenever city lights flashed across his face through the window. He looked nothing like the men from my neighborhood. Nothing like anyone I had ever known.

About fifteen minutes later, the driver finally spoke..

"We're here, boss."

I looked outside the window and nearly stopped breathing.

The mansion before us looked unreal. Massive black gates surrounded the property while elegant lights illuminated the enormous building behind them. Snow covered the edges of the driveway beautifully, making the mansion appear almost cinematic beneath the night sky.

My mouth parted slightly in shock.

This wasn't a house. It was practically a palace.

The SUV rolled smoothly into the compound before stopping at the entrance. I stepped out slowly, immediately feeling underdressed, painfully underdressed.

I was wearing an old coat and a jean trouser, with my pair of slippers, though my slippers were actually new pairs. I began to wish I had worn something much better.

Meanwhile, everything around me screamed wealth. I suddenly became hyperaware of how ordinary I looked. Embarrassment crept into my chest.

Trying not to appear too amazed, I quietly followed Sylvester inside. But the moment I entered the mansion, my composure shattered completely.

The interior was breathtaking. White marble floors stretched across the enormous living room while elegant black furniture decorated the space beautifully. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting warm golden light across the luxurious room.

Everything looked expensive. Spotless and perfect.

I felt like I had accidentally walked into the home of a billionaire.

My fingers nervously twisted together as I stood near the entrance awkwardly, unsure of where to look or what to touch.

Then suddenly a voice broke out.

"Sylvester, thank God you're back. We have a serious problem. Lugard's family has completely fucked every..." The voice stopped abruptly.

I looked up.

A young man stood near the staircase, staring directly at me with visible confusion. His eyes widened slightly. For a second, neither of us spoke. Then his expression softened unexpectedly, almost amused by how awkwardly nervous I looked standing there.

Before things could become even more uncomfortable, Sylvester stepped in front of me protectively. The movement surprised me.

"She's Novaria," he said calmly. "And she'll be staying here for a while."

The man blinked rapidly.

"What?" His voice rose in disbelief before he quickly controlled himself. "What do you mean she's staying here?"

He looked genuinely shocked.

In fact, he had completely forgotten whatever urgent issue he had been talking about earlier.

Sylvester rubbed the back of his neck briefly before answering.

"That..", Sylvester coughed a bit, clearing his throat. "That bastard scorpion and his friends were messing up with her. So I finally got rid of them. She didn't want to go back home, so I brought her home with me. Collins is there any dinner left?," Sylvester asked.