While writing this story, a close friend of mine was diagnosed with thanatophobia—a deep, painful fear of losing the people they love.
Watching her break down over the mere thought of that loss changed something inside me.
It made me think differently.
It made me feel more deeply.
And it completely shifted the way I viewed the world I was building in this book.
This story began as a mafia romance—obsession, danger, lust, power.
But slowly, I started to question everything.
We write about mafia men who kill to protect their pride.
Who take lives as if they mean nothing.
Who kidnap women—for control, for revenge, or worse… for their own twisted pleasure.
And we turn it into fiction.
We wrap it in passion and call it thrilling.
But no one writes about what happens after.
No one talks about the girl's mother—left disheveled, destroyed, not knowing if her child is alive.
No one talks about the father—selling his pride, begging people, paying everything he has just to get back a part of his soul.
No one remembers that she wasn't just a "woman." She was someone's whole world.
No one talks about her brother—the boy who doesn't cry because he thinks he's not allowed to.
Who stays silent in the chaos, trying to be the "man of the house," while inside he's just a child aching for his sister.
Who scrolls through her photos late at night, hoping—just hoping—it's all a nightmare he'll wake up from.
And no one talks about the daughter of the man killed in these so-called revenge tales.
The one who waits at the door, calling his phone again and again.
The one whose world ends in silence.
We, as writers, often show only one side of the story—The power. The lust. The thrill.
But we rarely show the second side—
The grief.
The empty chairs.
The sleepless nights of parents.
The broken siblings left in the ruins of someone else's war.
It's time we stop glorifying this. It's time we stop normalizing stories where human suffering becomes "spice" in a romance.
So I chose to stop writing this story.
Not because I couldn't finish it—
But because I finally understood what finishing it would mean.
I didn't want to show only one side of the story, the way media so often does.
I didn't want to romanticize cruelty or glorify darkness and call it love.
This is not just an author's note.
It's a decision.
A stand.
For the girls no one writes about.
For the parents no one remembers.
For the brothers whose silence goes unnoticed.
And for all the stories that end in pain… even if the book pretends otherwise. I will be deleting this book soon...