Chapter 0002

Vincenzo’s POV

Last night, I sat alone in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of whiskey that had long since lost its burn. Around me, were dancers, liars, whispers in silk and cologne. A hundred people and yet not a single soul I trusted.

As the lights were dim, the waitress had brought me my drink, but my mood was already poisoned. And still, all I could think about was her. That girl from the parking lot.

“Are you blind?” she’d spat at me — bold, unfiltered, and utterly unaware of who I was. The nerve. The sheer disrespect.

No one talks to Vincenzo Bruno like that, not even God dares raise his voice at me. And yet... something about her haunted me. That fire, that fearlessness. The way her voice cracked with emotion but not weakness. I find all of these… fascinating.

However, my thoughts fogged as my grip on the glass faltered. Suddenly, the room tilted, and I knew something was wrong.

My fingers tingled, my vision blurred at the edges and my body grew heavy.

“Sir? Are you alright?” the waitress leaned close, concern barely veiling her calculation.

“I’m… fine,” I lied. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t even stand properly.

“I’ll take you to your suite upstairs,” she said, too gently.

I should have said no, but my limbs betrayed me, so I didn’t argue as she led me to a private room and closed the door behind me .

And instantly... I heard a soft voice with a familiar scent.

Then nothing.

****

The next morning arrived and I felt a light pain with a mix of heat and the press of skin that wasn’t mine. Opening my eyes, I realized I woke in a bed that wasn’t mine, tangled in limbs I didn’t recognize. Then I blinked — and saw her.

Her.

The same girl from the parking lot. Now naked and sleeping against my side like a lover.

My blood ran cold.

“Bro, we’ve got a problem.” Jackson’s voice hit me like a bullet as he barged in, holding his phone like a weapon.

“What now?” I snapped, sitting up.

“You trended all night, Vincenzo. Trended. Sex tape. Nudes. Video clips. All of it.” he said, shoving his phone in my face.

I shot out of bed. “What the fuck?! Take it down. Now!”

“I tried to get it down. But it spread fast. Got saved, shared and downloaded. It’s gone.”

At that point, my jaw clenched so tightly I thought my teeth would crack. I was the face of a billion-dollar enterprise, and the underworld’s ghost. Who was untouchable because I played a tight game with no mistakes or scandals.

And now? My efforts are now drowning in the drainage because of one mistake and one girl.

“This is chaotic,” I murmured silently. Then, Jackson added, his eyes scanning the room. “The media's all over it, we need to leave. Now.”

But it was already too late.

****

Outside, chaos reigned as cameras flashed like gunshots, reporters swarmed like flies on blood that I could hear them before I saw them. And the moment they saw me, they began throwing questions at me like a weightless piece of paper.

“Mr. Burno! Are the rumors true? Was it consensual?”

“Who is the mystery woman in the footage?”

“Is it true she seduced you for fame?”

My fists clenched upon listening to all of these, but then — one question cut through the noise like a knife. “Sources say she’s been with other high-profile men. Are you her next victim?”

Her next victim? Are they targeting her now? The headlines had already begun to shape a new narrative...And then I saw her…Sarah. Frozen, trembling and drowning in shame and as the reporters spotted her also, they surged toward her.

"Shit," I muttered as Jackson leaned closer and whispered to me. "What's the plan now bro? What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. But we first have to get her away from the reporters," I replied as my instincts overrode logic. So, I pushed through the crowd and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I said clearly, letting the lie slip off my tongue like a command. “She hates attention. That’s why I kept her private. Someone leaked our moment. And I will find them.”

Cameras caught every word, flashbulbs exploded and headlines rewrote themselves in real time.

Jackson stepped up like a soldier on cue. “Further harassment will be met with legal action. You know who he is.”

With that, the vultures scattered as we got into the car, she was shaking, keeping silent and her arms wrapped around herself like armor.

I handed her water. She drank like she’d been crawling through a desert.

“You okay?” I asked. A rare phrase. Foreign on my tongue.

She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her. Shame, fear, pain all wrapped in silence.

“What’s your name?”

Her lips trembled. “Sarah.”

Sarah…The girl who cursed me out, was now caught in my storm. And strangely... the girl who made me feel something other than cold.

“I want to leave,” she whispered. “Please… just take me away from here.”

I should’ve said no. Should’ve handed her to her mess and walked away. But I nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll get you out of here.” With that we drove in silence and her quiet sobs filled the air like static.

I’d never cared before. not about women and especially not like this.

Only one woman had ever made me feel responsible and she was long gone. A ghost of my past. Yet... Sarah stirred that same protective instinct in me.

Why?

“Why am I feeling like this?” I muttered under my breath as we reached a junction. Then she suddenly turned to me.

“Please. Let me out here. I’ll be fine.” She voiced as Jackson slowed the car.

“You sure?” I asked, frowning. “I could take you home—”

“No,” she said quickly, already opening the door. “I appreciate everything. But... I need to be alone.”

She stepped out before I could stop her. Head bowed. Shoulders hunched like a woman carrying the weight of a ruined life.

Jackson looked at me. “Should we follow?”

I stared at the empty sidewalk where she’d disappeared.

“No. Let her go.”

But I wasn’t done. So I pulled out my phone and dialed. Richard. My intel guy and bloodhound.

“Sir?” He responded, picking my call.

“Find the source of the leaked video. I want footage. Logs. Devices. Every single person who was on shift last night. Get the tech firm involved. Dig into their systems. Hack the satellites if you have to.”

“Understood, sir. But it may take some time—”

“I don’t care if it takes a war. Burn the damn city down if you must.”

This wasn’t about scandal anymore or about reputation.

This was personal.

And whoever did this? They were already dead. They just didn’t know.