The Wrong Twin: Mafia king's Obsession

Chapter One – The Wrong Twin

POV: Levi

The rain fell in sheets, blurring the edges of the city into watercolor shadows. The pavement shimmered beneath the jaundiced glow of the street lamps, puddles spreading into shallow mirrors that fractured his reflection each time he stepped through them. Levi Moretti tightened his grip on the umbrella and hunched his shoulders, his bag heavy against his side. The library’s archive shift had dragged late again, a mess of cataloguing that no one else had wanted, and his bones ached with exhaustion.

His twin would have laughed at him. Adrian would say I’m wasting my life behind shelves.

Levi shook the thought off, quickening his pace. The streets were empty, hushed in the downpour, but every echo of his own footsteps fed the unease crawling up his spine. He told himself it was nothing. Just rain, just fatigue.

Then tires shrieked.

His head snapped up. A black SUV barreled from the shadows, its headlights slicing the storm. Levi’s pulse spiked. He froze mid-step, caught in the sudden blaze.

The vehicle skidded to a brutal halt, water spraying in a silver arc. Before he could move, the rear door swung open and two men spilled out—dark suits, broad shoulders, movements efficient, predatory. Their faces were half-hidden by the downpour, but their intent was unmistakable.

“Adrian!” one barked.

Levi’s stomach hollowed. The name hit like a blade. Not me. Wrong twin. Not me.

But he barely managed a breath before hands seized him. His umbrella crashed to the asphalt, forgotten, the ribs snapping under a boot. Levi thrashed, adrenaline surging.

“You’ve got the wrong—”

A fist rammed into his ribs. Air punched out of his lungs. He staggered, choking, shoved hard toward the SUV’s open maw.

“Stop—please, I’m not—”

Another strike. This one to his stomach, folding him in half. Rainwater mingled with bile on his tongue. The world blurred: wet asphalt, rough hands, the slam of the door behind him.

The SUV swallowed him whole.

The leather smelled of cologne and gun oil. One man pinned him by the shoulders, while the other jerked his wrists forward, the cold bite of plastic cinching tight around them.

Levi’s breath came fast, ragged. Panic clawed up his throat. “Listen to me—I’m not Adrian. I’m Levi. Levi Moretti. You’ve made a mistake.”

The man beside him didn’t flinch. His eyes were flat, impassive. “Shut up.”

The SUV lurched forward. The city lights smeared into ribbons through rain-streaked glass, then vanished altogether as they sped into darker streets.

Levi tried to control his breathing, but his chest was a cage, rattling with every inhale. He pressed back into the seat, plastic biting his wrists, his mind spinning. Adrian. Of course this was about Adrian. It was always Adrian.

His twin, the ruin-maker. The charmer who burned bridges for warmth and left Levi to sift through the ashes. It had been months since he’d heard from him—months of silence, half relief, half worry. And now this. Men in suits. An SUV. The wrong brother.

The passenger muttered into an earpiece. “Package secured. Delivering to the boss now.”

Package.

Levi swallowed hard, throat dry as parchment. “Please,” he whispered, though his voice cracked. “I don’t know what he’s done, but I swear, I’m not him. I’m not—”

The man’s expression didn’t even twitch.

Silence stretched, heavy as the storm pounding the roof. Every bump of the tires carried Levi deeper into something vast and unseen. His ribs throbbed with each breath. Fear burned acidic at the back of his throat.

They drove for what felt like forever, leaving behind the grid of streets Levi knew, trading it for narrower roads where the shadows seemed to lean in close. When the SUV finally slowed, Levi’s stomach knotted so tight he thought he might be sick.

Wrought-iron gates loomed ahead, black and gleaming, taller than any prison fence. They swung open without hesitation. No ID, no questions. Whoever waited inside didn’t need permission.

The SUV crunched across gravel, climbing a long drive toward a mansion that rose like a gothic fortress. Its windows glowed golden through the rain, a lure in the dark, but the building itself seemed to watch him. Levi’s legs trembled, though he hadn’t yet left the car.

The guards yanked him out, dragging him across the gravel. His shoes slipped, soaked through, every step clumsy. His shirt clung to his skin, rain and sweat indistinguishable, his wrists screaming against the zip tie.

The front doors opened with slow ceremony. Light spilled out, warm and false. And there—

There he was.

The man who made the storm feel like a whisper.

He stood in the threshold like he had been carved from shadow itself. Tall, broad-shouldered, his black three-piece suit molded sharp to his body. His hair, slicked back, caught the light, though his eyes did not. They gleamed darker than the storm, colder, cutting with surgical precision.

The men flanking Levi stilled. Their grip tightened, reverent almost, waiting for command.

Levi’s breath stuttered in his throat. He couldn’t look away. The man’s presence was suffocating, a force pressing into his bones. He hadn’t spoken, yet Levi already understood: this was someone who didn’t need to raise his voice. The silence bent to him.

Then his gaze locked onto Levi.

The weight of it stripped him bare, peeling back skin, searching marrow. Calculation, yes—but also something else, something more dangerous. Something that burned.

The man stepped forward. The storm seemed to hush for him.

“Welcome home, Adrian.”

Levi’s heart stopped.

“No—no, you don’t understand.” His words tumbled out, desperate, cracked. “I’m not—”

The man’s lips curved faintly. Not a smile. Sharper. “I know what you’ll say. But lies won’t save you here.”

A gloved hand reached out, fingers curling under Levi’s chin. He tried to flinch back, but the grip was unyielding, tilting his face upward. Rain dripped from his lashes as his gaze was forced into those obsidian eyes.

The air between them tightened.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” the man murmured, voice silk wrapped around steel. “And now you’re mine.”

The words slithered into Levi’s chest, constricting around his ribs until he could barely draw breath. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the storm, drowning out everything but those eyes and that voice.

Not Adrian. He wanted to scream it. He wanted to claw the truth into the walls. But the man looking down at him didn’t believe. And worse

Levi’s throat burned as fear collided with something he couldn’t name.

Worse he didn’t care.

The guards dragged Levi across the threshold. The doors shut behind them, sealing him inside.

And the storm raged on.