# Chapter 1 - A Tense Reunion
The forest was dark and silent, save for the rustling leaves stirred by the night wind and the faint sound of footsteps between the towering trees. The sky was dark and moonless, as if deliberately hiding what was about to happen that night.
Alya ran, gasping for breath.
Her T-shirt and jeans were already dirty with soil. Her long hair was a tangled mess. Her hands were tied tightly with rope, the pain sharp against her skin, but Alya refused to give up.
She wasn't a police officer.
She wasn't a soldier either.
Alya was just a twenty-six-year-old journalist and news anchor.
But that night, circumstances forced her to become someone she had never imagined being.
"Stop!"
A man's voice rang out from behind the trees.
Alya turned around.
Several men emerged from the darkness.
She immediately hid behind a tree trunk.
Her heart pounded.
Her instincts told her they weren't ordinary men.
They were the Revander family's henchmen.
The Revander family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families. In public, they owned multinational companies, hotels, real estate, and various other legitimate businesses.
But behind it all, rumors circulated about a far more terrifying underworld network.
The mafia.
And tonight, Alya was right in the middle of it.
Her gaze then fell on a man standing several yards away.
The man, around thirty-two years old, stood calmly, as if the pursuit wasn't worth worrying about.
His body was tall and athletic. His black suit was lightly stained with blood. His jaw was sharp, his eyes cold, and his handsome face showed no fear whatsoever.
"Alya."
The man said her name.
Alya froze.
How did he know her name?
In the man's hand was the name tag from Alya's workplace.
"Give up."
Alya shook her head.
"Don't come any closer."
Instead, the man stepped forward.
"You don't understand what's happening."
"I know enough."
Alya raised the pistol she'd taken from one of the henchmen she'd managed to overpower during her escape.
"And I know you're the man who's been hiding behind your family's businesses all this time."
The man's expression changed.
For the first time that night, something appeared on his cold face.
Worry.
"It's not what you think."
"Stop!"
The man kept walking.
Alya pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The gunshot shook the forest.
The man's body jerked before finally collapsing to the ground.
Several of his henchmen immediately ran toward the heir's body.
Alya stared at the pistol in her hand, breathing hard.
She had never imagined she'd actually pull the trigger.
That night became the beginning of a major secret.
News of Ronan's death spread among the mafia groups.
The notorious mafia figure was declared dead after being shot in an ambush incident overseas.
Alya returned to her life.
One year passed.
"Good evening, viewers. I'm Alya Prameswari, and here are tonight's top stories."
The studio lights illuminated her beautiful face.
Her long, straight hair fell neatly to her waist. An elegant white blazer hugged her slender body. Her expression was calm and professional.
No one would ever guess that the woman reading the news on TV had once witnessed the death of a mafia heir.
"Cut!"
The director gave the signal.
Alya let out a breath.
"That was amazing, Alya."
Lovi appeared carrying two cups of coffee.
"Here."
Alya accepted one.
"Thanks."
Lovi smiled.
"You look exhausted."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that."
Lovi had been Alya's best friend since they still lived at the Keluarga Bersama orphanage. They'd grown up together, gone through hard times together, and eventually ended up working for the same media company.
That evening, Alya attended a gala hosted by one of the major corporations.
She came with Lovi as a media representative.
"Don't be so serious," Lovi whispered. "We're at a party, not a funeral."
Alya chuckled.
"I'm just working."
"At a party?"
"Networking."
Lovi rolled her eyes.
Alya picked up a drink and looked around.
Crystal lights hung from the ceiling. Soft music played. Business leaders and important figures mingled with celebrities and government officials.
Everything looked perfect.
Until someone entered the room.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Conversations gradually died down.
Alya, who had been drinking, suddenly stopped.
Her hand went rigid.
The glass nearly slipped from her fingers.
No.
Impossible.
A man walked in wearing a flawless black suit.
His hair was neatly styled.
His tall, masculine frame gave him an even more commanding presence.
That strong face...
Those cold eyes...
Alya felt her entire body go weak.
The man stopped in the middle of the room.
Then he slowly turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Alya's heart seemed to stop.
Arshaka.
The man she'd shot a year ago.
The man who'd been declared dead.
Now he stood alive and well right in front of her.
Arshaka's gaze never left her.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Then he walked toward her.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Closer and closer.
Alya backed away without realizing it.
"Arshaka..."
The name escaped her like a whisper.
The man stopped right in front of her.
"It's been a long time, Alya."
The voice was the same.
Cold.
Calm.
But this time, there was something different.
Something that made the hairs on Alya's neck stand on end.
"You..." Alya swallowed. "Weren't you dead?"
Arshaka smiled faintly.
"I thought so too."
Alya stared at the faint scar near his neck.
Impossible.
He was really alive.
Arshaka leaned forward slightly.
"And for this past year," he whispered, "I've been waiting for a chance to see you again."
Alya clenched her fists.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie."
Arshaka's gaze sharpened.
"I know you were the one who pulled the trigger that night."
Alya fell silent.
"And now..."
Arshaka moved closer until only a few inches separated them.
"...you won't be able to run from me again."
For the first time in a year, Alya realized something far more terrifying than death.
Arshaka Revander was still alive.
And he had come back for her.