The mansion stood tall, a symbol of wealth and power, perched on the edge of the sprawling hills of Spain. Inside, the Carter family lived a life of luxury and security—nothing could shake their world. Scar, just fourteen, was the son of a powerful mafia leader, trained for the ruthless future that awaited him, even though his heart still beat with the innocence of youth. He spent his days in the vast gardens, practicing with his sword, his body growing stronger, faster, a reflection of the man he was meant to become. But for now, his life was simple—family, training, and the occasional sparring match with his father.

ThHis mother, Elena, was inside, cradling Elijah, Scar’s fife year old  brother. The little one’s cries echoed through the mansion’s hallways, a reminder that not all was as serene as it seemed. Elena tried to soothe him, her fingers running through his soft hair, speaking to him in gentle whispers. Outside, Scar’s father, Lucian Carter, and his brother, Marcus, were caught up in a conversation about shipments and business—talks that were far from innocent.

Scar’s thoughts, however, were elsewhere. His baby brother’s cries unsettled him, reminding him of the vulnerability that still lingered in their world. But the moment was fleeting, and the sound of the wind carried no warning of the chaos that was about to descend upon them.

Suddenly, smoke began to curl up from the edges of the mansion. A distant rumble followed by the first crack of gunfire shattered the peace. Scar’s training kicked in immediately, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His father shouted orders to the bodyguards, but the panic in his voice betrayed his calm demeanor. Scar’s world spun into chaos as he turned to his mother, his eyes pleading for her to stay inside, to keep Elijah safe.Scar’s father shouted, “Stay inside with your mother and brother. Don’t move!”“But I can help! I’m not a kid!” Scar argued, his voice rising in desperation.Elena, holding Elijah tighter, looked into his eyes. “It’s not your fight yet, Scar. Stay here with us.”

But that wasn’t enough. The burning anger inside Scar had been building for years. Today, it would explode.

Scar stood frozen in place for a long moment, his hands trembling at his sides. The sounds of gunfire faded into eerie silence, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. Something was wrong. His mother, holding Elijah tightly in her arms, urged him to stay in the safety of their room, but his mind raced with questions. What had just happened? Where was his father? His uncle? The men who had spent their lives protecting the family?

He couldn’t stay inside. Not when he knew the world outside was falling apart.

“Mom, I’ll go check. Stay with Elijah. I won’t be long,” Scar insisted, despite the worry in his mother’s eyes. She reached out to stop him, but it was too late. Scar had already made up his mind. His resolve was unshakable.

The moment Scar stepped into the mansion’s grand hallway, the air felt thick with tension. Every step he took was measured, deliberate, as though he was walking into a nightmare. The house, which had once felt like a fortress, now felt like a tomb. Silence greeted him at every corner. The echo of his footsteps on the marble floors was the only sound.

He reached the front doors and pushed them open. The sight before him was enough to steal the breath from his lungs. His father lay in a pool of blood, his body barely recognizable. Marcus, barely breathing, was on the ground beside him. Scar rushed to his uncle’s side, his heart pounding. “Uncle, no...”

“Pet...” His uncle gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

“Who? Who did this?” Scar asked, his voice a low growl, anger building inside him like a storm waiting to break. His uncle’s eyes were glazed over, but he managed to rasp out the name.

“Petrova...” he stammered, before his last breath escaped him.Scar’s world turned cold. Petrova. The name echoed in his mind like a death sentence. The Petrova family, his family's enemies. This was no accident.

A scream from inside snapped him out of his daze. His heart lurched as he sprinted towards the mansion. His mind raced with thoughts of his mother and Elijah. Please, let them be safe.

Scar’s pulse hammered in his ears as he rushed through the mansion. His legs moved faster, fueled by fear and rage. The thought of his mother and brother in danger spurred him forward, each step heavier than the last. He could see the figure of a man standing in front of his mother, a weapon aimed at her, and Elijah’s helpless cries filled the air.

“No!” Scar shouted, his voice rough, desperate.

His instincts kicked in. He couldn’t let anything happen to his family—not after everything they had just lost. He lunged at the man, the weight of his rage fueling his every movement. A struggle ensued, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room. Scar’s hands shook with adrenaline, but he managed to overpower the man. In the chaos, the figure pulled a gun, aiming it at Scar’s chest.Scar’s heart skipped a beat as he was shot. The pain was unbearable, a searing heat that spread through his chest. His legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed, but not before he shot the man in return, ending the fight with a final, desperate pull of the trigger.

“Petrova... I will kill them.” Scar’s voice was barely a whisper as he collapsed to the floor, darkness closing in around him. His body was battered, his blood mixing with the cold marble beneath him.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was his mother’s tear-streaked face, her arms holding Elijah tightly as they both cried for the family they had just lost.