LOGINAfter catching her fiancé in bed with her best friend at their engagement party, Lana Rivera's perfect life shatters in a single night. Humiliated and heartbroken, she feels the scene, desperate to disappear. But running from one betrayal thrusts her into something far more dangerous... Seeking refuge, Lana wanders into an exclusive lounge that feels less like a bar, and more like a secret society. Cigars and cologne linger in the air, Italian jazz hums in the background, and patrons watch everything with sharp, vigilant eyes. But when she witnesses a man executed in cold blood, right into the middle of the club, she realises too late that she has stumbled into the world of Underground crime... quite specifically... the Mafia. Before she can escape, Ezio Benedetti, the ruthless Don who owns the lounge, claims her. At first, she believes she will be killed for what she's seen, but instead, Ezio decides to keep her, to parade her, and to make her part of a world she doesn't understand. When he brings her to his family's most elusive event, Ezio shows her off as his newest prize. But Ezio isn't the only powerful man in the room... Among the guests stands Dante Valencia, the one they call the Mafia King, Don of the most feared family in the city, and Ezio's sworn enemy. When Dante sets his sights on Lana, Ezio refuses to let her go, refuelling the war between the two empires. Now, Lana is caught between two Rival Kings of the Underworld, one who wants to possess her, and one who wants to save her. In a world built on loyalty, blood and power, her heart might be the most dangerous thing of all...
View MoreL A N AI stare at my reflection for a long moment, barely recognising the woman looking back at me.My makeup is smeared beneath my eyes, dark shadows carved there from crying too hard, too often, my mascara clinging stubbornly to skin that feels sore and tight. My hair is tangled, flattened in places from fingers running through it in panic, from hands pressing to my scalp as if that might keep my thoughts from spilling out and from how much I had been sweating. I look tired in a way sleep does not fix andtired in a way that sinks into bone and lingers.This is the second time tonight I am standing in front of a mirror like this.The first was hours ago, in a bathroom that smelled like champagne and perfume, right after I caught my fiancé in bed with my best friend, and I made a run for it, before ending up at a Mafia leader's lounge and getting taken to his house against my will, right after my life split cleanly down the middle. Back then, I thought heartbreak was the worst thing
L A N ADaniella leads the way without saying a word, and I follow a few steps behind her, my shoes quiet against the smooth floors, my body still moving on borrowed energy. The halls stretch long and clean, nothing like the looming luxury of Ezio’s estate, and yet just as intimidating in a different way, because this place feels lived in, functional, purposeful. The lighting is soft and warm, recessed into the ceiling instead of hanging over us like a display, and the walls are decorated with modern art that I do not recognise but instinctively understand costs more than I could ever imagine affording.No one stops us, no guards step into our path, and no eyes linger too long.And it is strange how unsettling that is.I keep waiting for something to happen, for a voice to bark an order, for hands to reach for me, for the familiar tightening in my chest that comes when I know I am about to be told what to do. But none of that comes. Daniella simply walks, confident and unhurried, like
L A N AI am painfully aware of how small I feel standing here.Not just physically, though that is impossible to ignore, the way Dante stands taller than everyone else in the room, the way his presence seems to take up space without effort, but emotionally too, like I am a child who wandered into a world I was never meant to see. My skin feels too tight, my nerves stretched thin, every sound and movement registering too loudly inside me.“She’s shaken up,” Dante says, his voice calm but not cold. “It’s been a hellish night.”The way he says it makes my stomach turn, because it feels like an understatement and a mercy all at once. Hellish does not begin to describe the images burned into my mind, the blood, the screams, the way death arrived without warning or ceremony. I keep my eyes down, afraid that if I meet anyone’s gaze for too long, I might break apart completely.“Poor thing looks like she’s seen a ghost,” Daniella replies, and there is genuine concern in her tone, something w
L A N AThe silence in the car makes me sick to my stomach, so much so that I feel even my quiet breaths might be too loud for this space. I look out the window, much calmer now and watch as streetlights pass by in long, glowing stretches, their reflections sliding across the window beside me, and I watch my own face appear and disappear in the glass, pale and unfamiliar, like I am already someone else. My hands are folded tightly in my lap, fingers clutching onto the fabric of my dress as though it might keep me anchored to reality, as though I might drift away if I loosen my grip for even a second.Everything inside me feels overstimulated and numb at the same time.My ears still ring faintly, the echo of gunfire now burned into my memory, and every sudden sound outside makes my shoulders tense, my breath catching before I can stop it. The silence inside the car feels so fragile, like it could shatter at any moment, and I don’t know whether I’m afraid of the noise returning or terri
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