THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME

Maria Dominic never thought she would end up on her knees.

Not in front of him. Not in front of the man she had loved, trusted, sacrificed for. But here she was—kneeling on the cold, immaculate marble floors of Edwards Kale’s office, her dignity slipping away with every second that passed.

Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists against her thighs. She had come here for justice, for fairness, for something that resembled the years she had lost. But as she looked up at the man seated in his oversized leather chair, all she saw was apathy.

Edwards leaned back, exhaling slowly as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. The sound of ice clinking against crystal felt like a hammer against her skull. His navy-blue suit was perfectly tailored, his golden cufflinks gleaming under the warm office lights. Everything about him screamed power, wealth, control.

Everything about her felt powerless.

“Get up, Maria,” Edwards said, his tone flat, emotionless. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Maria’s jaw clenched. She wouldn’t beg, not really. But she had to fight.

“I gave you everything,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I was there when you were nothing. When you were just another ambitious businessman struggling to build his empire. I stood by you, supported you, believed in you—”

“And now you think that means you deserve half of what I built?” Edwards cut her off, setting his drink down with an impatient sigh.

Maria’s stomach twisted. “That’s not—”

He waved a hand, dismissing her. “I won’t let you play the victim, Maria. I stopped loving you. I wanted a clean break. What was I supposed to do? Stay with you out of guilt? Lie to your face every night?”

She bit her lip, willing her voice to stay steady. “You could’ve had a conversation with me, Edwards. You could have told me instead of—”

“Instead of what?” he scoffed. “Instead of filing for divorce? Instead of moving on?” His gaze turned sharp. “I didn’t cheat on you, Maria. I didn’t raise a hand against you. I just stopped feeling the way I used to. And you can’t punish me for that.”

Maria shook her head in disbelief. “So, what? You get to throw me away like I meant nothing? Like I was some obligation you had to endure until you got tired of me?”

Edwards sighed again, rubbing his temples. “I knew this would get emotional.”

Maria felt a sting at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down. No tears. Not for him. Not for this.

The door swung open.

At first, neither of them noticed. Maria was too focused on the sharp ache in her chest, and Edwards was too preoccupied with his own self-righteous justifications. But then—

A shadow fell over them.

A presence.

A man stood at the threshold, his large frame silhouetted against the office lights. He didn’t belong in a place like this, not with his rugged demeanor, his rough edges, the lethal kind of energy that didn’t mix with sterile corporate settings.

Maria felt his eyes on her first.

Then, Luca Avancii spoke.

“…What the hell is this?”

Maria turned her head slightly, and the moment her gaze landed on him, something deep inside her lurched.

He was familiar.

But before she could grasp onto the memory, Edwards let out an exasperated breath.

“Luca,” Edwards said, his voice adopting a tone of forced patience. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Luca’s gaze flickered to him briefly before returning to Maria. His expression darkened.

Edwards sighed. “Maria is my ex-wife. Or soon-to-be. She doesn’t like the fact that I filed for divorce, and now she wants to be compensated.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Compensated?”

Edwards leaned back, exuding false magnanimity. “She wants half of my fortune. I get it, really. She put time into this marriage. But love fades, Luca. I stopped loving her, and I wanted to do the right thing instead of leading her on. But now she’s demanding a piece of what I built.”

Maria flinched.

Luca didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

But she could feel it—the shift in the air. The quiet kind of rage that coiled and tightened around his massive frame.

Then, he looked at her.

Not the way Edwards did, with condescension and dismissal.

Luca really looked at her.

Recognition flickered in his gaze.

Maria.

Little Maria.

Johan’s little sister.

The sister of the only boy he had ever called family.

It had been fifteen years.

Sixteen years since her parents had died in that tragic car accident.

Fifteen years since Johan—his best friend—was killed in a gang fight.

Fifteen years since Maria had disappeared.

She had been fourteen when he last saw her. A small, fragile girl, shattered by grief. And before Luca could get to her, before he could find her and take care of her—she had run away.

And now, all these years later, she was here.

Kneeling.

At the feet of this fat-stomached pig who dared to act like he had done her a favor.

Luca’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists.

“Get up,” he commanded, his voice like a low growl.

Maria stiffened.

His tone left no room for argument.

Edwards frowned. “Luca, I don’t think you under—”

Luca didn’t even glance at him. Didn’t care.

Maria hesitated, her fingers twitching against the cold floor. Her mind was still trying to catch up, still trying to process the fact that he was here. That Luca Avancii—Johan’s best friend, the wild, reckless boy who had given their parents hypertension with his stunts—was standing in front of her, looking at her like she was something worth saving.

She put her hand in his.

Heat.

Warm. Steady. Unshakable.

He pulled her up effortlessly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Maria didn’t feel small.

Luca turned to Edwards, his lips curving into something slow. Dangerous.

“Thank you,” he said.

Edwards blinked, confused. “For what?”

Luca smirked. “For being a goddamn idiot.”

Edwards scowled. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been looking for her,” Luca said, tilting his head slightly. “For years. And here you are, handing her over to me on a silver platter.” His smirk widened. “You just made it easier for me to take her away from you.”

Maria’s heart stopped.

Slowly, she looked up at him.

“Luca?” she whispered.

Luca turned to her, his expression softening for just a moment.

His voice was rough, but familiar.

“Yeah, little brat,” he murmured. “It’s me.”

Maria’s breath hitched.

She barely registered it when Luca slid his arm around her waist, steadying her, grounding her, protecting her.

Then, in that same arrogant, reckless tone, he turned back to Edwards and said:

“Looks like I’ll be changing partners.”

And just like that, the world tilted.