LOGINThe ballroom glows with golden chandeliers and the soft hum of dangerous men discussing business under the guise of elegance. Mia Romano hates every inch of it—the masks, the false smiles, the way every pair of eyes watches her as if she’s an object Mark has placed on display.She stands at the edge of the crowd, hands clasped, jaw tight.She can feel Mark’s presence without even looking. It’s like his gravity pulls at her skin—steady, calm, infuriating.Then the music slows.A luxurious waltz begins.A murmur ripples through the room.And Mark steps forward.“No,” Mia whispers immediately, backing away. “Absolutely not.”He extends a hand. “It’s required, tesoro. Appearances.”“I’d rather choke.”His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a faint flicker in his eyes—something too close to amusement. “You can choke later. For now, dance.”Before she can argue, his hand wraps around her waist and pulls her into the center of the ballroom.Gasps echo. Heads turn.The mafia heirs watch w
The mansion was quiet the next morning, unusually quiet—like the whole world was holding its breath after the explosion between Mia and Mark last night.Mia barely slept.Her mind kept replaying his words, his voice, his eyes burning with something she didn’t want to understand.“The thought of anyone else touching you makes me—”“It felt like someone gut-punched me.”“I can’t stand anyone else’s hands on you.”No.No.No.She refused to believe any of it.She refused to feel the way her chest tightened when she remembered it.Mia needed space.Air.Anything to drown out the sound of her own heartbeat.She left her room quietly, stepping into the hallway. It was early—sun barely rising, half the guards still switching shifts. Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way downstairs.She wasn’t looking for trouble.It found her anyway.Voices carried from the private training courtyard—low, hushed, serious. Mia froze, recognizing one instantly.Mark.Her pulse stumbled. She should wa
The moment the car doors closed outside the mansion, silence flooded the back seat.Thick.Heavy.Explosive.Mark sat beside Mia, his jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed along his neck.Mia stared out the window, hands trembling in her lap.But it wasn’t embarrassment trembling through her.It wasn’t fear.It was rage.Burning, humiliating, suffocating rage.The second the chauffeur opened the door, Mia shot out of the car and stormed toward the mansion.“Mia—” Mark moved after her.“No.”She didn’t even look back. “Not a word.”She pushed through the front doors, heels echoing against the marble, fury vibrating through every step. Mark was right behind her.He reached for her wrist.Big mistake.Mia whipped around so fast his hand froze inches from her skin.“Don’t you touch me,” she hissed.Mark’s chest rose sharply. “I was trying—”“You don’t get to touch me,” she snapped, voice cracking. “Not tonight. Not after this.”Mark’s eyes darkened. “You’re overreacting.”“Overreacting?”
The Romano mansion buzzed with preparation—staff rushing, guards assembling, cars lining the driveway. A formal gathering of families.A power display.A night where everyone watched everyone.And Mia had no choice but to attend.She stood in front of her mirror while a stylist adjusted the straps of her black silk dress, the one Don Romano insisted she wear.“You must look united,” he had said. “A strong front.”United.With the man she still swore she hated.Her stomach twisted.A knock sounded at the door.“Mia.”Mark’s voice. Low. Controlled. Too steady.The stylist barely had time to open the door.Mark stepped inside—dressed in a sleek black suit, tie loosened, hair brushed back in a way that made her heart stutter before she could stop it.He looked devastating.And he looked at her like he couldn’t breathe for a moment.“You… look beautiful,” he said quietly.Mia turned away. “Save it. We’re doing this because we have to.”Mark nodded once, accepting the coldness.But his eyes
Morning sunlight crept through Mia’s curtains, but it brought no warmth.Her body felt heavy, her mind foggy, memories of last night replaying in broken flashes—the attack,the fear,Mark’s voice saying he wouldn’t survive losing her,and the sliver of warm hallway light she’d kept on purpose.When she finally gathered enough courage to leave her room, Mark was still there.Standing, alert, arms crossed, gaze fixed on her door like nothing else existed.He didn’t smile.He didn’t speak.But his eyes softened—barely—when they met hers.Mia’s heart betrayed her with a quiet flutter.“Good morning,” she said stiffly.“Are you okay?” he asked softly, scanning her face.Before she could answer, another voice cut across the hallway.“Mia.”Ethan.He stood at the far end of the corridor, jaw clenched, eyes blazing.The second he saw Mark near her door, his expression snapped into pure fury.“Oh. Of course,” Ethan spat. “I should’ve known.”Mia exhaled sharply. “Not now, Ethan.”“No, now is
The mansion exploded into chaos the moment the guards dragged the bodies of the attackers inside the gates. Shouts filled the night, flashlights flickered across the lawn, security scrambled everywhere.But Mia couldn’t move.Her body felt disconnected from reality, her breath shallow, her vision blurry.A warm hand gripped her elbow.Strong. Steady.Mark.“Come inside,” he ordered softly.“I can walk,” Mia snapped, even as her knees wobbled.Mark’s expression tightened. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. I’m saying you’re in shock.”She wanted to fire back, but the world suddenly tilted, and his arm shot around her waist, holding her firmly before she could fall.She froze—heat, strength, the scent of him—too close, too steady.His eyes searched her face. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”Her heart thrummed painfully.She hated how safe he made her feel.She hated it.Don’t let this get to you, Mia. Don’t.She pulled away abruptly. “Just take me inside.”He nodded once, jaw tight, and guided her t







