chapter three

Riven Romano

Riven cleared his throat, and the room fell instantly silent.

It didn't matter how long someone had ruled this world of power and blood, how feared they were by men or adored by the mafia queens who claimed their thrones - when Riven Romano entered, every heart paused.

In his presence, kings became pawns. Billionaires became beggars. You were nothing more than a fragile whisper he could crush between his fingers without a flicker of emotion.

His reputation preceded him cold-blooded, cunning, and merciless. His heart was harder than steel, darker than the shadow that followed him. He cared for no one not his allies, not his enemies, not even himself. Cross him once, and you earned yourself a one-way ticket six feet under.

Riven never hesitated. He didn't think twice before pulling a trigger or giving an order that would erase an entire name from existence. Consequences were meaningless to him ,satisfaction was his only compass.

And the law? He laughed at it. In his world, the law didn't command him , it feared him. Judges, police chiefs, politicians ,they all bowed when he spoke. Riven didn't obey power; he was power.

He carried his darkness with pride, and yet , God help anyone who looked into his eyes too long. Because behind that calm, unreadable stare lay a storm. A man born of ruin and betrayal.

Once, long ago, he'd believed in love. Believed in something pure. But the woman he trusted ,the one he gave his heart, mind, and soul to ,shattered him without remorse.

Since that day, Riven had become a ghost of who he once was - a man made of vengeance and silence. If it weren't for Ace, his best friend and brother in arms, Riven would've died that night , left bleeding in the cold, another forgotten name in the empire of crime.

Now, he trusted no one. Felt nothing. His emotions had turned to dust, and the only way he released them was through pain etched in ink across his skin.

Each tattoo told a story: a sin, a scar, a secret no one dared to ask about.

And as he stood before the crowd, his dark gaze sweeping over every trembling soul in the room, one truth echoed silently in the air .

Every gaze in the room fixed on him.

The air seemed to change as Riven Romano took a step forward slow, deliberate, powerful. Even the chandeliers above seemed to flicker in his presence, their golden light catching the sharp edges of his face.

Women couldn't look away.

His eyes - a deep, rare shade of blue held a quiet storm within them. They weren't just beautiful; they were dangerous, like the sea before it swallows a ship whole. There was mystery there, secrets buried too deep for the world to uncover.

His jawline looked carved by something more precise than time ,strong, angular, sharp enough to cut through silence itself. His every movement carried command, a quiet authority that made even the most confident men shrink back a little.

If perfection had a form, it stood before them - cold, tall, untouchable.

He was the kind of man movies tried to create but never could because this wasn't fiction. This was Riven Romano, and his presence alone could make the world hold its breath.

But among the hundreds of eyes glued to him...

one pair did not look up.

Bella.

While others stared in awe, she sat quietly, her head tilted down, her soft fingers swiping through her e-book library. The soft glow of her screen reflected against her glasses the same glasses she hated to wear as she scrolled through pages, lost in stories that gave her peace.

She didn't care for men in suits or names that carried power.

This evening meant nothing to her just another parade of wealth and noise.

The only soul in the room not hanging onto his existence.

The only one untouched by his power.

Something unfamiliar twisted in Riven's chest - irritation, yes, but something darker too.

A quiet pull he couldn't name.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing in her direction. The crowd sat in reverent silence, waiting for him to speak, but Riven's attention was fixed on her the girl who dared to ignore him.

Bella.

Unaware of the storm gathering in his stare, Bella flicked through her screen, her expression calm, almost playful. When her eyes briefly lifted and met his, she made the smallest, silliest face , one so unserious it could have been a child mocking a king.

A flicker of surprise cracked his composure.

Then, silence heavy and electric settled over the hall.

In the sea of faces, Mr. White shifted uneasily. Sweat gathered at his temples despite the cool air. He shouldn't have come. He knew it. He'd known it the moment that invitation arrived sealed with Riven Romano's insignia.

Why would his greatest enemy invite him into his own den?

What game was Riven playing?

His hand slid casually toward his suit pocket where the cold metal of his gun rested. His expression never faltered, but his mind was racing - not for his own safety, but for his daughters.

Across the marble stage, Riven finally spoke. His voice was smooth ,deep, deliberate, and edged with quiet authority.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Kings and queens of the underworld. Titans of business and empire..."

He paused, the sound of his breath filling the silence like a blade being unsheathed.

"Welcome. Tonight is not just another gathering of power , it is the night I mark a new era. A milestone that many before me have failed to reach."

The room hung on his every word. His tone was almost calm, but it carried an undertone of humiliation as if each syllable was a reminder of who stood above them all.

He stepped away from the podium, his eyes scanning the audience lingering briefly, deliberately, on Mr. White.

"Tonight, I celebrate not only success," he continued, "but allegiance. I have chosen to partner with one of the most powerful men in this room. A man who once stood against me who taught me the meaning of strength, of betrayal, and of loyalty."

He smiled then a small, dangerous curve of his lips that made half the room exhale in tension.

"He is not my father by blood, but by the lessons of power and pain. He molded me into what I am. And tonight, the circle completes."

Whispers rippled through the hall. Eyes darted toward Mr. White, whose jaw tightened as Riven's gaze locked onto him like a loaded gun.

"So why not celebrate?" Riven said, voice low, almost mocking. "Rival or ally friend or foe sometimes you dine with your enemy, drink his wine, and smile while the blade glitters beneath the table... Isn't that right, Mr. White?"

His name cut through the hall like thunder.

Mr. White's hand twitched.

The air thickened.

Riven raised his glass slowly, his blue eyes never leaving his rival's face.

"To legacy," he said coldly, "and to the empire that survives all."

Crystal glasses clinked, though most of them trembled in their holders. Applause followed slow, cautious, filled with envy and dread rather than joy.

Riven descended the stage, each step echoing across the marble like a warning.

But as he passed through the crowd, his anger simmered not for his enemies, not for Mr. White.

For her.

The quiet girl who still hadn't looked up.

...