001: Long Time, No See

The wine was dry. The party was louder than she liked. And yet Lydia Roman stayed rooted in place, her fingers tracing the crystal rim of her glass, waiting for something she couldn’t name.

Or someone.

The room shimmered in gold and shadows—an engagement party for someone she barely knew, in a city she never wanted to return to. But here she was, twenty-seven, perfectly composed in red silk and stiletto heels, pretending she still belonged in this world of power, money, and whispered sins.

“Lydia Roman,” came a voice behind her. Deep. Smooth. Familiar in the most unsettling way.

She didn’t have to turn. She already knew.

Damian Moretti.

The man she’d run from five years ago. The man who once had her pinned against a wall in Milan, whispering things no man ever dared. The man whose name she hadn’t said aloud since… but never stopped thinking.

Her breath caught—just a second too long. Then she turned.

“Damian.” Her voice was steady. Her heart was not.

He hadn’t changed. Tall, effortlessly dominant in a fitted black suit, hair slightly tousled like he had better things to do than impress anyone. But his eyes—still that maddening shade of dark gray, still looking at her like she was prey.

“You look…” His gaze dipped down her dress. “Unforgivable.”

A flush bloomed in her cheeks, but she didn’t move. “Still good at talking in sins, I see.”

He stepped closer, too close. “You remember them, then.”

Her body did. Every inch of it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, pulse fluttering.

“I could ask you the same,” he said. “But I already know the answer. You came back for a reason, Lydia. And I think I’m it.”

She hated how easily he could read her. Even worse, how she never wanted to lie when he looked at her like that.

“I didn’t come for you.”

“Maybe not,” he murmured. “But you’ll stay for me.”

The music swelled behind them. Glasses clinked. Somewhere, someone laughed. But here in this moment, the world melted to silence.

“I’ve changed,” she said softly.

“I hope not,” he replied. “Because the girl I remember had a taste for danger. And you’ve just walked back into it.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.

“Come upstairs. No rules. No expectations. Just one night to remember everything we never finished.”

Her stomach twisted. Her thighs clenched. Her resolve cracked—but not completely.

“Still think you can order me around?”

Damian smiled, slow and wicked. “I don’t need to order. You want to obey.”

Her silence was answer enough.

As Lydia turned away, her heart racing, a small velvet card slid into her clutch. No name. No message. Just a deep red wax seal embossed with a symbol she hadn’t seen in years.

Ten lines etched across it.

Ten commandments.

Her breath hitched.

The game hadn’t just resumed.

It had never ended.

Lydia’s heels clicked against the marble as she walked away from him—but slowly. Purposefully. As if to say: I’m still in control. Even though her pulse was thundering in her ears and her skin burned from the heat of his breath.

She didn’t look back.

She couldn’t.

Because she knew if she did, she’d go with him.

Upstairs.

One night. No rules.

But that was the old Lydia. The one she’d buried years ago beneath ambition and silence and control. The one who let herself fall for a man like Damian Moretti. Dangerous. Beautiful. Addictive. A man who made her forget who she was and who she was trying to become.

But he was wrong.

She hadn’t come back for him.

She’d come back for vengeance.

She slipped out of the party early, not trusting herself to stay, not with him watching her like that—like he still owned a piece of her. Maybe he did. But if he thought he could use that against her again, he was wrong.

She tossed her clutch onto the bed of her hotel room and kicked off her heels. The city buzzed outside the window—sirens, traffic, nightlife. But the only sound she could hear was his voice, still echoing in her head.

You want to obey.

Dammit.

She rubbed her arms as if she could wipe off the memory of his touch.

That’s when she remembered the card.

The velvet was thick. Rich. Heavy in her hand. She hadn’t noticed slipping it into her clutch—he must’ve done it when he leaned in. Of course he did.

She peeled back the wax seal.

Inside was a single black page, etched in silver ink. No letterhead. No signature. Just ten simple lines:

THE TEN SINFUL COMMANDMENTS

1. Never deny your deepest desires.

2. Pleasure is power—wield it ruthlessly.

3. Trust is earned through surrender.

4. Speak only truth—unless a lie is sexier.

5. Pain is a gift. Accept it.

6. Loyalty belongs to the one who ruins you.

7. Your body is a temple—set it on fire.

8. Fear is foreplay. Use it.

9. Punishment must always fit the sin.

10. If you kneel, kneel for love—or not at all.

Lydia’s throat tightened. She sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the final line. It wasn’t just a game. Not anymore.

The commandments weren’t a metaphor.

They were a contract.

A challenge.

And a warning.

FLASHBACK – Milan, Five Years Ago

His hands on her throat, firm but never cruel. His breath hot at her ear. Her wrists bound in silk. Her name on his lips like a promise and a curse.

He was the only man who ever saw her completely—and didn’t flinch.

Back then, she thought she could control him. Outsmart him.

She was wrong.

And she ran.

Now, he was giving her a second chance—to finish what they started.

But there was more at stake this time. Lydia wasn’t the same girl. And Damian Moretti wasn’t just a lover from her past.

He was the gatekeeper to a secret she’d buried.

A secret tied to her family, her exile, and the destruction of everything she once believed in.

She looked at the list again.

Never deny your deepest desires.

Desire wasn’t the problem.

Surviving it was.

A knock at the door.

Three soft taps. One hard one.

Her breath caught.

Not room service.

Not housekeeping.

Only one man ever knocked like that.

She rose slowly, card still in hand.

When she opened the door—no one was there.

Just a black box on the hallway floor.

Inside?

A single red collar.

And a note:

“You still remember how to kneel?.”