Chapter 2-Serafina’s POV 

The footsteps lingered outside my door.

Not moving nor retreating, just waiting.

My fingers tightened around my phone until my knuckles burned. The screen was dark now, lifeless, as if it hadn’t just threatened the only person in this house who made breathing easier. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. 

I counted heartbeats the way I’d learned to count bullets: quick, silent, necessary.

One.

Two.

Three.

A shadow passed beneath the thin strip of light at the base of the door.

Then another.

Someone cleared their throat. “Serafina.”

Luca’s voice slid through the wood,smooth and unhurried.

I closed my eyes and of course it was him. I slipped the phone into my palm and forced my expression into place before unlocking the door. 

When I opened it, Luca stood there alone, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, dark hair immaculate as ever. 

No blood on him. No sign that he’d pulled the trigger an hour ago.

That was always the most disturbing part. He didn’t look like death. He looked like control.

“You didn’t answer when I called,” he said mildly.

“I didn’t hear my phone,” I replied. Not a lie. I’d been too busy trying not to panic.

His gaze drifted past me into the room.

The vanity. The bed. Then his eyes dropped. The ring. It sat on the vanity where I’d left it.

Something sharpened behind his smile.

“Why isn’t your ring on your finger?” he asked.

My pulse spiked. I forced myself not to look at it. “I took it off to wash my hands,” I said. “There was blood downstairs.” A pause.

Then Luca chuckled softly. “Practical. I like that.” He stepped into the room without waiting for permission. 

I moved aside automatically, my body already trained.

Luca crossed to the vanity, picked up the ring between his fingers, and examined it as if it were a weapon.

 “This cost more than your father’s house,” he said. “Do you know why I chose this one?”

“No,” I answered.

“Because diamonds don’t break,” he said, slipping it back onto my finger. His grip tightened just enough to hurt. “They survive pressure.” His thumb lingered against my skin. Possessive. Claiming.

“You did well tonight,” he continued. “Most women cry the first time they see a man die.”

“I’m not most women,” I said quietly.

“No,” he agreed. “That’s why I chose you.”

The word chose landed wrong. Like ownership. Like fate decided without consent. 

Luca’s gaze lifted, suddenly sharp. 

“Did Matteo say anything to you?”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“No,” I said, too quickly.

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Think carefully.”

I swallowed. “He told me to lock my door.”

Luca laughed. “Always the protector.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Did you like that?”

“I didn’t think about it,” I replied

.

“That’s a lie.” I held his gaze. “It didn’t matter.” For a moment, I thought he might strike me. Instead, he smiled again, slow and indulgent. “Be careful, Serafina,” he murmured. “Men like Matteo mistake silence for permission.”

He stepped back, satisfied, and turned toward the door. Just before leaving, he added, “Tomorrow, you’ll attend the family dinner. Wear something red. I like to remind people what’s mine.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click. I sagged against it once his footsteps faded, lungs burning as if I’d been underwater. 

Only then did I notice my hand trembling. I curled my fingers into a fist until the shaking stopped.

The phone vibrated again.

Unknown Number.

My stomach dropped.

You didn’t deny it.

Another message followed instantly.

That was a mistake.

I backed away from the door, heart racing. My gaze flicked to the windows. Matteo’s warning echoed in my mind. 

Lock everything. I crossed the room, bolted the windows, then locked the bathroom door and returned to the bed. I sat on the edge, phone clutched in my hands, waiting.

Nothing came, minutes passed, then longer. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. Eventually exhaustion dragged me under, though sleep came sharp and restless, full of gunshots and shadows.

I woke to voices low urgent. My eyes snapped open. Morning light filtered through the curtains. I sat up slowly, straining to listen.

“…not supposed to be here.”

A pause.

“I’ll handle it.”

Matteo.

I was on my feet before I thought better of it. I crossed the room and cracked the door open. Two men stood in the hallway. One was Matteo. The other I recognized immediately.

Vittorio Moretti.

Luca’s consigliere. Older, silver-haired, eyes like polished glass. He smiled when he saw me, as if he’d expected this.

“Ah,” he said pleasantly. “You’re awake.”

Matteo stiffened. “You should go back inside.”

“Why?” Vittorio asked. “I was just coming to invite her to breakfast.”

My gaze flicked to Matteo. His jaw was tight, his posture rigid.

“I didn’t know that was your responsibility,” Vittorio added lightly.

“It isn’t,” Matteo replied. “But Luca didn’t assign you to her either.”

Vittorio’s smile didn’t falter. “Luca assigns me to everything.”

The air between them crackled. I stepped forward before Matteo could stop me.

“I’ll join you,” I said. 

“There’s no need to argue.”

Matteo’s eyes snapped to mine. A warning flared there.

“Serafina—”

“It’s fine,” I said softly.

Vittorio gestured down the hall. “After you.”

We walked together, Matteo falling into step beside me, close enough that our arms nearly brushed. Nearly. The restraint was louder than touch would have been.

“Did Luca mention anything strange last night?” Vittorio asked casually.

“No,” I replied.

“Interesting,” he said. “Because he hardly slept.”

I said nothing.

“He worries about loyalty,” Vittorio continued. 

“As all kings do.”

The dining room was already full when we arrived. Luca sat at the head of the table, eyes lifting as we entered. His gaze flicked to Matteo, then to Vittorio, then settled on me.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I slept poorly,” I replied.

He smiled. “So did I.”

Breakfast passed in tense silence. Conversations murmured around us, but every word felt monitored. Luca watched Matteo closely. Vittorio watched everyone.

When the meal ended, Luca stood.

“Matteo,” he said. “Walk with me.”

Matteo rose immediately.

Luca’s gaze shifted to me. “Serafina, stay.”

My chest tightened. The two men left together. Vittorio lingered.

“You look pale,” he observed. “Nerves?”

“Something like that.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping. “Be careful, dear. Luca doesn’t like surprises.”

Before I could respond, he straightened and walked away. I waited until they were gone before exhaling. Minutes stretched then longer. Finally, footsteps approached.

But it wasn’t Luca. It was Matteo.

Alone.

His face was hard, eyes dark, jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped beneath his skin.

“What happened?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer immediately. He glanced down the hall, then back at me. “Pack a small bag,” he said quietly. “Only essentials.”

My breath caught. “Why?”

“Because Luca just ordered me to test your loyalty.”

Cold flooded my veins. “How?”

Matteo stepped closer, voice barely audible.“He wants me to follow you tonight. Watch who you speak to and what you do.”

“And if I fail?” I asked. His eyes burned into mine.

“Then he won’t kill you,” Matteo said. “He’ll kill me.”

The world tilted.

Before I could speak, Luca’s voice echoed down the hall. “Serafina.” Matteo stepped back instantly, expression shuttered.

Luca approached, eyes sharp. “Come,” he said. “There’s something I want you to see.”

He held out his hand. I took it.

As

we walked away, I looked back once.

Matteo’s gaze followed me, fierce and helpless.

And in that moment, I knew whatever Luca planned next, it wasn’t a test. It was a trap.