Ben

When I'm moving to my mafia meeting.

From the first moment she entered my vision, my life surrendered its purpose.

Power, duty, ambition—none of it mattered anymore.

I followed her like a curse that had learned how to breathe.

From the tinted silence of my black limousine, I watched her every step, every pause, every unaware smile.

Her beauty didn’t soften me.

It corrupted me.

After her, the idea of another woman felt like betrayal.

When I learned she was the President’s daughter, the truth struck me like thunder.

Not fear.

Not doubt.

Only certainty.

If the world had placed her beyond my reach,

then the world itself would have to bleed.

The night she returned from school, I decided love would no longer wait.

I came with two men.

The door stood between us for barely a second before I destroyed it.

Wood cracked. Locks screamed.

I entered with a gun in my hand, calm as death, deliberate as destiny.

She was sitting beside her father still wearing her uniform.

Two shots tore into the ceiling.

The sound wasn’t meant to kill—

it was meant to claim.

Her ears rang, her body trembled, and she collapsed into darkness, spared from witnessing what love had become.

Her father stood up, shaking, his voice breaking as he screamed,

Who are you?!

I ignored him.

I walked to her.

Kneeling beside her unconscious body, I studied her face like a sacred sin.

Up close, she was unbearable—

soft where the world was cruel,

innocent where I was ruined. So pure, untouched. I feel little guilty for going to ruin her innocence.

So much more beautiful like this… sweet heart.

I whispered,

as if promising her a future she never chose.

I lifted her onto my shoulder.

Her weight settled against me perfectly—

as though she had always belonged there,

as though fate had been waiting for my hands.

Then I turned back.

I pressed the cold barrel of my gun to her father’s forehead.

Close enough for him to smell gunpowder.

Close enough to understand helplessness.

“She is mine now,” I said quietly.

“Not because I want her.

But because I need her.”

My finger tightened.

“Anyone who tries to stop me—

will not die as a hero,

will not be remembered as a father,

will simply disappear.”

I walked out with her in my arms.

Behind me, a house collapsed into silence.

Ahead of me, a love began—

not gentle,

not pure,

but absolute.

A love willing to burn the world

just to keep her warm.