Fled to Bellavista

Giuliano Falcone's birthday party was held on the top floor of the Falcone family's VIP casino. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into an empty private booth next door.

His kiss came crashing down, fierce and all‑consuming, laced with the burn of bourbon on his breath. Through the door, I still made out the faint murmur of dealers and mob bosses chatting on the casino floor.

My face flushed crimson as I tried to push away the man pinning me down, yet he caught both my wrists in one hand and pressed them against the wall above my head.

"Aria, don't say no to me, hm?"

That low, husky edge in his usually cold and steady voice shattered my defenses in an instant. I gave in and wrapped my arms around his neck.

It was not until his warm palm slid beneath the hem of my couture gown that a shiver jolted me back to my senses. I caught his wandering hand, breathless.

"Not... not here."

Giuliano's voice was impossibly hoarse. "The guards outside know the rules. No one would dare come in."

I turned my face away, refusing to look into those deep, captivating eyes of his. One glance and I knew I would cave.

"I cannot. Mamma is still downstairs waiting for me."

Giuliano's tall frame went rigid. A flicker of irritation crossed his eyes, yet he still reached over and straightened the strap of my gown where it had slipped.

"I still have to make the rounds with a few of the families, so I will not be done for a while. I will have the driver take you back to the Crestmere estate. Text me when you get home."

Sensing his disappointment, I bit my lower lip. My voice came out barely above a whisper.

"I... I will wait for you in my room tonight. I rushed out the door today and forgot your birthday present in my bedroom."

Giuliano paused. A dangerous, teasing glint lit up his eyes. "Let me guess what my little Aria got me. Do not tell me it is... you?"

Even after 5 years together, his shameless flirting still turned me red from head to toe. I smoothed down my dress, tossed out a quick "you will find out when you get home," and fled before I embarrassed myself further.

His low laughter trailed after me.

The early spring night in Blackport carried a biting chill, and it was not until the cold wind hit me outside the casino that my racing heart finally began to settle. The thought of that gift sent a wave of sweetness through me, and I pictured the look on his face when he came home tonight and found it.

I climbed into the armored SUV and reached for my phone to text him, only to realize I had left it on the couch back in the booth. I had no choice but to go back.

I had barely reached the half‑open oak double doors at the end of the hallway when I noticed warm light spilling from the private office. Inside, Giuliano and his right‑hand man, Carlo Vitale, stood with their backs to the door, smoking cigars, unaware of anyone in the corridor.

"Giuliano, you deflowered your own stepsister at 18 and you have been stringing her along for 5 years. Are you still not going to make it official? It is not like the Falcone family cannot afford to keep a woman."

My hand, already reaching for the door, froze in midair. My heart seized and my breath stopped dead.

In 5 years of secretly loving this mafia heir, I had never stopped hoping that one day we could walk hand in hand through the streets of Blackport, out in the open, for everyone to see.

Giuliano let out a cold laugh. The flint of his lighter struck, and the crimson glow of his cigar cast shadows across his sharp, merciless features.

"You said it yourself. She is a secret that cannot see the light of day. My wife has to be someone who brings value to the family.

"I have already proposed to Viviana Moretti. She is the only one fit to be my rightful wife.

"Back when Aria's mother was playing the mistress and drove my birth mother to her grave, I bet she never imagined her precious little girl would end up begging in my bed."

Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. The heart that had been beating with hope went still.

Carlo lowered his voice, half teasing. "Looks like even our cold‑blooded young Falcone is not immune to a grudge, huh. Five years in her bed and you really do not feel a thing?"

Giuliano exhaled a thick ring of cigar smoke, his tone as cold as if he discussed a dead deal.

"If it were not about getting back at her mother, you think I could stomach touching her?

"I cannot wait to see the look on that two‑faced woman's face when she finds out her daughter's been my secret little plaything all along. It is going to be priceless."

The man who had whispered sweet nothings to me just minutes ago now looked like a stranger through the haze of smoke. He was like a devil I had never known.

There was not a trace of love in his eyes, only endless cruelty and the sick anticipation of revenge about to be fulfilled.

I dug my nails into my palms, turned, and ran from that suffocating den of monsters.