BOUND TO THE BLOOD KING

The car rolled through towering gates of wrought iron, their black sheen catching the faintest shimmer of moonlight. Bianca pressed her palm to the tinted window, her breath fogging the glass as she strained for glimpses of the world beyond. A world she had been torn from in one violent instant.The Romano estate loomed like a fortress dressed in gold. Ancient stone walls rose high, ivy crawling across them like veins, their sprawling length disappearing into shadows. The mansion itself was blinding in grandeur columns carved with angels, windows glinting like watchful eyes, and chandeliers visible even from the outside, burning defiantly against the night.To the world, it was beautiful. To Bianca, it was a cage.After some hours, Bianca woke in silk. The sheets were cool, soft as whispers, but the air around her felt like a noose. The room was a palace vaulted ceilings, ivory walls, velvet curtains dyed in shades of blood and ash. Everything gleamed perfection, yet none of it felt h

“Try it on. He’ll want you perfectly.”The words dripped from Lucia Barone’s lips like venom wrapped in silk. She stood in Bianca’s doorway with a garment bag draped over one arm, her perfectly lacquered nails tapping the fabric as if daring Bianca to refuse.Bianca’s eyes flicked to the bag. A faint shimmer of silver spilled through the zipper. She didn’t move. “Another costume?” she asked, her voice laced with exhaustion.Lucia’s painted smile widened. “Not a costume. A crown in silk. You’ll wear it tonight. There’s a ball, a masquerade. Matteo insists you be seen.”Bianca let out a humorless laugh. “Paraded, you mean.”Lucia’s eyes glinted, dark amusement dancing there. “Paraded, Displayed, Chosen. Use whichever word you like. But make no mistake, you’re his. Tonight, the world sees it too.”She dropped the bag onto the bed with a careless toss. Bianca unzipped it and drew out the gown a waterfall of midnight satin, cut low, the bodice jeweled with black stones that shimmered like

The night had not quieted Bianca’s mind. Sleep clung to her in fragments, restless, jagged, and fractured by the lingering ghost of Matteo’s kiss. It wasn’t affection that haunted her, but the sharp reminder that every gesture of his carried power, a threat wrapped in temptation. And yet, as dawn pressed through the curtains, she woke with the same vow burning in her chest: I will learn the truth. I will not be his pawn.By late evening, when the estate began to sink into shadows and silence, Bianca stole away from her room. The weight of surveillance cameras pressed on her like an invisible net, but desperation sharpened her daring. She slipped into the cool stone corridors, trailing her fingertips along walls that smelled faintly of dust and wine.The staircase to the cellar spiraled downward, dim torches licking the stone in amber light. She moved quietly, listening, her gown whispering against the steps."You trust too easily, Luca."The voice carried through the damp chill of the

“Keep up, Bianca.”“Walk with me,” Matteo’s voice cut the air, low and commanding.Bianca turned, startled, finding him already dressed in a dark tailored suit, his cufflinks gleaming like tiny daggers beneath the dim light. His hand wasn’t outstretched; he didn't offer, he ordered. And something in his eyes told her refusing was not an option.“Where are we going?” she asked carefully, her pulse quickening as his shadow seemed to swallow her.Matteo smirked faintly. “To learn.”The night air bit against her skin as he led her through a hidden corridor in the estate, stone walls lined with torches that hissed faintly in the wind. Bianca’s steps echoed after his, each one heavier with dread. They descended into a cavernous garage where sleek black cars gleamed like predators at rest. He opened the back door of one.“Get in.”She obeyed, sliding into leather that smelled of power and smoke. Silence stretched thin as the car glided through the countryside, into the heart of the city. Neo

The morning began like every other inside Matteo’s fortress, silence sharpened by the weight of surveillance, footsteps echoing in polished halls, men with eyes like stone positioned at every corner. Bianca sat on the edge of the velvet-lined chair in her room, spine straight, hands folded in her lap, when Luca came in for his daily inspection. His presence filled the doorway with a heaviness that made the air tighten. He carried the air of a man who had seen too much blood, who wore suspicion as naturally as others wore breath.“Still alive,” he muttered, scanning her face as though he might peel back her thoughts. His eyes slid to the untouched plate of fruit on the table. “You didn’t eat.”“I wasn’t hungry,” Bianca answered softly. She knew better than to meet his stare too long.“You’ll need strength. Hopelessness has a way of rotting people from the inside out.”Bianca let her lashes drop, summoning every ounce of fragile despair she could fake. “Hope?” she whispered. “I stopped