The Black Room

Serena:

Midnight tasted like smoke and iron.

The Twelve Gates Club was carved into the underbelly of the city like something holy and profane at once—its doors guarded by silence, its halls lined in velvet shadows and secrets. No name on the building. No address. Just the weight of blood, money, and history pressing into my bones as I stepped inside.

I handed the card to the man at the door.

No words.

Just a flick of his gloved fingers and a door opened with the whisper of something ancient.

The hallway beyond was long, crimson-lit, pulsing like a heartbeat too slow to be human.

I walked it alone.

Not because I wasn't afraid.

Because I wanted them to see me that way.

The Black Room wasn't black at all.

It was obsidian and wine and gold, everything decadent and dangerous. The walls breathed shadow. The ceiling flickered with low-hanging lights like the last embers of a dying fire. A long table stretched in the center, but only one figure sat at it.

Dante Moretti.

Not dressed like a prince of crime. Not armed like a soldier.

Just waiting—like the kind of man who didn't need weapons because his words were already bullets.

He stood slowly when he saw me.

A slow, practiced smile unfolded on his lips like a blade curling out of a sheath. "You came alone."

"So did fire. Before it burned the world down."

He chuckled softly. "So poetic. I was hoping they hadn't carved that out of you yet."

"They carved nothing. I handed them the knife."

He gestured to the seat across from him. I didn't move.

He didn't press. Just leaned against the table with lazy elegance, like I was the one on display.

"You know why you're here."

"You think I'm useful."

He tilted his head. "I know you are."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a bottle—glass black as ink, labelless—and poured two fingers of something dark into a crystal glass.

"You're the variable. The glitch. The girl they were supposed to protect… not train. And now?" "Now you're something else."

I didn't reach for the glass.

I didn't sit. "Get to the point."

His eyes sparkled.

Like he liked it when I didn't play nice. "There's a shift coming. You can feel it, can't you?" "Your boys—Matteo, Luca, Nico—they're not the only ones with enemies. They're not even the worst ones."

He stepped toward me, slow and sure. "The old families are fracturing. And the ones who rise next? Won't play by honor codes and blood ties."

He was close now.

But not too close.

Just enough that I could smell the spice on his skin and the lie beneath his calm. "I'm making a move. And I want you with me."

"Because I'm dangerous?"

"Because you're untethered." "You've tasted what they taught you. But you haven't sworn to them, not yet. You haven't given yourself over."

"You think that makes me weak."

"No." he paused. "It makes you free."

He reached into his coat again.

This time, he didn't pull out a card.

He pulled out a gun.

A sleek, jet-black thing.

Unmarked.

Untraceable.

He held it out. "This is my offer. Not loyalty. Not chains. A choice."

I didn't take it.

Not yet.

I looked at him—really looked.

The way his pupils didn't dilate. The way his breath never hitched.

He wasn't seducing me.

He was measuring me.

Calculating how much damage I could do.

And whether he could aim me before I aimed back.

I tried not to tremble beneath the realization that had unfolded. "You want me to betray them."

He smiled.

No denial.

Dante looked at me, no emotion to be seen. "I want you to survive. And I want to win."

I studied him, "You should've come sooner, then."

I took the gun.

Held it.

Tested the weight in my hand.

And then looked him dead in the eye. "Because now, I know how to bleed."

I turned without another word.

The door opened behind me without being touched.

And I walked out, neither faster nor slower.

Just enough to make him wonder what I'd do with the weapon he'd just given me.

Luca was the first to rise from the couch when I stepped through the door.

Matteo was leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

Nico sat perched on the edge of the table, eyes hooded.

Luca scowled. "You're late."

I smirked, "I was offered a kingdom."

I tossed the gun onto the table.

It landed with a thud that made all three of them go still. "He thinks I'm unclaimed."

"Are you?" Matteo asked his eyes a mask I couldn't uncover.

I met his gaze.

Then Nico's.

Then Luca's.

"No. I just haven't decided if I want to be crowned or kept."