Masuk[ SALVATORE’S POV ]
I wanted her to say she's not mine. To say she doesn't belong to me. But luck was on her side. She didn't.
I leaned down, my face so close to hers that our noses almost touched.
“I know everything about you. Iris. I know you hate the taste of champagne but like tea. I know you sneaked out to the garden at 2:00 AM when you couldn't sleep.
I watched her. Letting my words and the meaning behind them sink into her body.
“And in the afternoon when you're bored. I know you have a birthmark shaped like a star on the small of your back.”
“From the trees. Through the lens of my camera. From the back of the cars you never noticed. “I confessed.
“I watched you grow from a girl into a woman. I watched men try to approach you at school, men I had to….. discouraged from ever speaking your name again.” I added and I watched her eyes grow into a realization.
“You’re insane,” She whispered.
“I am obsessed,” I corrected,
My hand moved from her hair to her throat, my thumb resting over her thudding pulse. I wasn’t squeezing, but the threat was there.
“There is a difference. Insane men lose focus. But with you, I have never been more focused in my life. Every move I’ve made, every war I’ve fought, everybody I’ve buried, was to get to this moment. To this house,”
“Why not just ask for me ?” She cried .” If you wanted me so badly, why marry Sofia ?”
My eyes darkened, a flash of genuine rage crossing my features .” Because your father would never have given me his precious youngest daughter.
“If you know me like you truly claimed, you would know I am not his precious daughter. I have no interest in the kind of world and businesses he runs. My sister does. So if you
Want a queen for your dynasty. It’s her.
She need not say that out loud cause I know. But wanting Sofia to be the queen of my empire. Never.
“He wants you for a political trade later. He thinks you’re a hidden ace. I said looking into her eyes.
My lips brushed against her ear. “ I didn’t play
by Lorenzo Rossi’s rules. I took the bait so I could burn the whole trap down. By the time this wedding arrives, Sofia would be the least of my problems. And you. Will be in my arms. You belong to me, Iris. Every fiber in you is
mine."
She tried to push me away, but her hand landed on my broad chest. A simple gesture that nearly makes me roll my eyes behind my head. A gesture that makes a big salva stands at attention. Wanting to be stroked and worshiped.
I grabbed her wrists, pinning them behind the armchair. Not to hurt her but to display that my strength was absolute.
My eyes moved to her lip, it was fresh and plump. And it makes me want to place mine on it. To know if it's succulent and as fresh as it looks.
“Can I kiss you? Iris ?” I asked, my mouth
almost on hers.
“Let me go, Salvatore.” She rasps.
“Not until you understand,” I said, my voice dropping to a low command.” You’re going to play the part of the dutiful sister. You are going to help Sofia plan her wedding. You are going to stand at the altar as her bridesmaid.
I won’t," she sobbed.” I won’t do what you just asked. You belong to my sister. To Sofia.
“You will .” I countered, my eyes burning into hers .” Because if you don’t, I’ll start taking things away from his family. First, your father’s business. Then, your sister’s reputation. And finally your freedom. Do you understand, Iris? You are mine. And you do as I say.
“You have been since the moment I saw you five years ago standing in the rain outside your school, looking like you wanted to set the world on fire, only that it’s me you light it on, and I can feel it burn, deep inside my veins.”
I released her wrist and stepped back.
“Go to sleep, little mouse,” I said, glancing towards the door .” And keep the locket. It looks better on you than it did in the box.
Without another word, I melted into the shadows of the library.
As I walked out of the library, I could see Sofia from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t stop. Am not in the estate for me. She’s just a means to get what I desire.
I went to the balcony, and the fresh breeze hit my face, calming my nerves. But not enough to calm the raging man in my trousers. Who wants nothing but Iris care and touch.
Iris, I muttered into the darkness of the night.
About twenty minutes later, I felt a presence behind me, and I did not need to turn to know who it was. Sofia. With her heels clicking loudly on her feet and her perfume smelling like an abandoned sacrifice.
Who in their right senses would wear heels at night?
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re here? I should have joined you, so we could talk about the alliance and our engagement.” She said, biting her lips as she looked at me, only if she knew how ridiculous she looked right now.
“Leave. Sofia, I want to be alone. I did not need you here?” I said not bothering to spare her another glance.
“You did not need to play hard. Salvatore. I know you want me, all men do, and I won't mind if you want me here, right now before the alliance is signed, you’re going to be mine anyways. So what do you say? She asked.
“Firstly I’m not any man, and secondly you have just three seconds to leave my sight or I will push you off the balcony. And watch you die in your own blood. Your father Lorenzo would not do shit about it. If I say you leave. You leave.”
Elizabeth's POV"So much noise and energy, right, Elizabeth?" Luke said, finally standing up from the couch. He stretched lazily, his movements completely relaxed, like a total bastard.I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady my racing heart. It was just Salvatore and Michael standing in that doorway. Surely, between my son's loyalty and Luke's brute strength, it would be more than enough to shield me and buy me enough time to escape through the back window. I had already lost one child tonight; if my son had to give his life for me too, well... it wouldn't be that bad. As long as I survived to claim the Damascus fortune, it would all be worth it."Boss," Luke called out all of a sudden.Before I could even process the word, Luke dropped heavily onto his knees right in front of Salvatore.Salvatore didn't even look down at him. His dark eyes remained fixed entirely on my son, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across his face—a smile that didn't reach his eyes at all.Boss? Did Luk
[ MIRA’S POV ]"You have two minutes to tell me why you’re here," I said, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms.I glared at Iris’s sister, the adopted daughter of the Damascus family. She was lounging across the plush velvet couch in the private room given to me, looking around the space like she owned the place. The sheer, unadulterated arrogance radiating off her was enough to make my blood boil.Lila didn't even blink. Instead, she slowly tilted her head back, looking down her nose at me."And what right do you think you have to talk down on me, Mira Moretti?" she spat, her eyes flashing with pure disgust. "You’re nothing but a pig the Moretti's picked from the slum."I stared at her for a few silent minutes. The room was deathly quiet as her words hung in the air. Then, a chuckle bubbled up my throat, breaking into a loud, hysterical burst of laughter. I laughed so hard that actual tears began staining the corners of my eyes."What did you just call me?" I asked, wip
Sofia's POV"Roland," Grandfather called out. His voice wasn't loud, but it had the weight of an iron vault shutting closed.From the shadows near the edge of the stage, a man dressed in a sharp, sterile suit stepped forward. He carried a small, metallic medical case in his hand. Roland. The family’s private physician.Grandfather didn't even look at me as he pointed a single, scarred finger in my direction. "Take her blood for a DNA test."A sharp spike of pure, icy panic pierced right through my newly found confidence. My breath hitched. A DNA test. Right here? In front of everyone?The word DNA echoed in my ears like a death knell. If this was another one of Mum’s desperate gambits, if she had lied about this just to save our skins from the fake heirloom disaster, we were dead. The Damascus family wouldn't just throw us out; they would bury us alive under the marble floor of this very ballroom.My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I quickly snapped my head around,
[ IRIS POV ]I stared at my father, my mind scrambling to piece it together. The hesitation, the defense of Sofia, the demand for a DNA test—it hadn't been desperation at all. It was a trap. He and Grandfather had known the entire time that the heirloom was fake. They had let her spin her web, let Sofia show her fake birthmark, and let them think they had won, just to utterly crush them at the highest point of their delusion.Beside me, Salvatore let out a soft, low chuckle, completely unbothered. He knew. Of course he knew.I looked back at the stage. Elizabeth was frozen on her knees, her face an ashen, ghostly white. And Sofia? The smug, victorious look on her face had completely shattered into pure, paralyzing terror as she realized she hadn't been manipulating my parents at all, she had been walking straight into their slaughterhouse."Young man, who might you be?" my dad asked, stepping forward. His voice was laced with a sharp, calculated curiosity as he looked past the golden
[ IRIS POV ]I actually had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.It was just like Salvatore said, this was a hell of a show.Standing wrapped in his arms, watching the absolute, suffocating terror drain the color from Sofia’s face was the most intoxicating thing I had ever experienced. The great, untouchable Sofia Russo, who had spent years tormenting me, was completely frozen under the glittering chandelier lights.A birthmark.My mind flashed back to my own body, to the small, distinct mark etched into my skin that I had looked at every single day of my life, never knowing it was the ultimate key to my identity. Elizabeth hadn't known about it. In all her meticulous planning, all her forged documents, and stolen hospital braces, she had missed the one thing that couldn't be faked by a plastic surgeon or a corrupt doctor. Blood truly recognized blood.Beside me, Salvatore’s chest vibrated with a silent, deeply amused chuckle. He didn't say a word, but the sl
[ IRIS POV ]The entire ballroom went completely rigid. Nobody breathed.Mum stopped struggling against my father’s grip, her tear-stained face turning slowly toward Sofia. My dad's eyes widened in sheer, breathless shock, his military composure completely shattering as he stared at the girl walking toward them."My baby...?" Mom whispered, her voice barely a thread, her hands trembling as she reached out into the empty air.Sofia let out a loud, heartbroken sob, covering her mouth with her hands as she stumbled forward, looking every bit the long-lost daughter returning from the dead. "I'm so sorry... it took so long..." she whimpered, her gaze locking onto mom and my dad with a perfect act of desperate longing.A sick, heavy nausea rose in my throat. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear myself away from Salvatore and shout the truth until my lungs bled. No! That’s not her! I am your daughter! She is a liar!But my voice was completely trapped in my chest, paralyzed by the sheer, ho
[ IRIS’S POV ] The first thing I felt was the silence. It wasn't the heavy, watchful silence of the Russo estate; it was a vast, mountain silence that made me feel like the only person left on earth. I opened my eyes to find the other side of the massive bed empty, though the imprint of a head on
[ SOFIA’S POV ]The air in the ballroom had turned from tense to lethal. Through the crowd, I saw him, Simone. He moved with a cold, jagged arrogance that earned him his title: the Mafia Prince of Sweden. He didn't just walk; he carved a path through the guests, his presence as sharp as a sub-zero
[ SOFIA’S POV ]The gala had been in full swing for hours, glittering chandeliers throwing light over a sea of gowns and tailored suits. The hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the soft strains of the string quartet formed the perfect illusion of civility. My eyes were elsewhere, while m
[ IRIS’S POV ]The scent of antiseptic and starch clung to the room, but my focus was entirely on Salvatore. He stood by the bed, gripping the thin fabric of the new gown as if it were an enemy he was forced to negotiate with.After ten minutes of low-growled protests and sharp glares at me, I final







