LOGINMy panties were still damp.
I didn't know if it was fear or desire.
I slumped against the cold metal bench outside the club and tried to scrub the memory from my head. The kiss. His voice. His hands. The gun pressed into my back.
It felt like a nightmare…until I remembered the ache between my thighs.
No. It happened. All of it.
"Kat, the cab's almost here." Selena sat beside me, her phone glowing in the darkness. It was past midnight. The city streets were empty except for a few stumbling drunks and the occasional car passing by.
I shut my eyes, but all I could see was those green predator eyes watching me run.
Minutes later, the cab arrived and we slid into the back seat. The silence between Selena and me was suffocating.
She finally broke it.
"Kat." Her voice was soft but firm. "What happened in there?"
I opened my mouth…. Closed it. …Tried again.
"I walked into the devil’s room."
"Devil?..." She waited.
"There were men. Guns. And this... this man." My voice cracked. "They thought I was someone else. A stripper they'd hired."
Selena's eyes went wide. "What?!"
"One of them put a gun to my back, Sel." The words tumbled out now, fast and panicked. "He told me to kiss him…the boss…or we'd both die. So I did. I kissed him."
I covered my face with my hands.
"And the worst part? I didn't just do it because of the gun."
Then Selena's hand found mine, squeezing tight.
"Kat... what do you mean?"
"I mean..." I could barely say it. "Part of me liked it. His hands on me. His mouth. I got... wet, Selena. From fear or lust, I don't even know anymore. But my body wanted it."
I laughed a broken, bitter sound.
"My first kiss was with a mafia boss at gunpoint in front of strangers. And I got turned on."
Selena didn't pull away or look disgusted. She just held my hand tighter.
"Kat, listen to me." Her voice was steady, grounding. "You were terrified. You had a gun to your back. Fear does weird things to our bodies—adrenaline, survival mode. It's not your fault that your body reacted."
"But it felt good," I whispered, ashamed.
"That doesn't mean you wanted it to happen." She squeezed again. "But babe, you need to stay far away from whatever that was. Men like that... they're dangerous. You know that, right?"
I nodded slowly, looking out the window at the blurred streetlights.
"I know."
But even as I said it, I could still feel the ghost of his grip on my hip. The taste of him on my tongue.
The way he smiled as I ran.
Like he was letting me go. For now.
The cab pulled up to my apartment building a run-down complex on the south side of the city. peeling paint andbroken security lights. Home.
"You good to go in alone?" Selena asked with worry on her face.
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I forced a smile. "Thanks, Sel."
"Text me when you're inside, okay?"
"I will."
I slipped out of the cab and watched her drive away. Then I crept around the side of the building to my bedroom window.
I lived with my older brother, Mateo, and the last thing I needed was him asking questions about why I was sneaking in after midnight.
The window slid open quietly. I climbed through, my heels hitting the carpet with a soft thud.
I kicked off my shoes and peeled the dress from my body, letting it drop to the floor in a heap. My hands were shaking.
In the bathroom, I turned the shower on full blast and stepped under the scalding water.
But I couldn't wash him off.
I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, but I could still feel his thumb rolling over my nipple. Still feel the heat of his breath against my neck. Still feel the hard press of his erection against my thigh.
My hand slid down my stomach. Between my legs, I was still slick.
I stared at the wetness on my fingers, confused and ashamed.
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
This wasn't just fear. This was arousal. My body had responded to him…to the danger, to his dominance, to the way he'd claimed me in front of everyone like I was already his.
I hated that even now, standing alone in my shower, my core ached for more.
One kiss shouldn't ruin a girl.
But mine did.
I wasn't at the club for pleasure. Not tonight.
Massimo, the club's owner, had arranged a meeting in the back VIP room. A deal. Drugs and guns moving through the port—high risk, higher reward. The kind of deal that would cement my control over the eastern docks.
The deal was done. Money exchanged. Shipment confirmed.
Now I was stuck in this overpriced den of smoke and bass, watching Massimo parade women in front of me like livestock at auction.
"Don De Luca," Massimo purred, gesturing to the line of girls standing against the wall. "I've brought the finest for you tonight. Dancers, models—whatever you want."
I leaned back in my chair, cigar smoke curling toward the ceiling. My right-hand man, Marco, stood silent at my side. My two bodyguards flanked the door.
I barely glanced at the women.
Beautiful? Sure. Perfectly polished. Hair styled. Makeup flawless. Bodies displayed like merchandise.
Boring.
They all wanted the same thing money, status, a chance to get close to power. They'd smile, spread their legs, and pretend to enjoy it.
I'd had a hundred like them. None of them made me feel anything.
"Massimo." My voice cut through his desperate sales pitch. "If this is all you've got, I'll pass."
His face paled. "Wait, Don. There's one more. She's running late, but I promise she's different. Worth the wait."
I took another drag from my cigar, unimpressed. "You have five minutes."
He scurried out like a rat.
Marco glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. "You really gonna sit here and wait?"
"For five minutes? Why not." I exhaled smoke. "Maybe he'll surprise me."
He didn't.
But she did.
The door opened.
And in walked a mistake.
She wasn't polished. Wasn't strutting. She stumbled in like a deer into a wolf's den, wide-eyed and frozen.
Curves that didn't need a dress to be noticed. Hips that swayed even when she was terrified. Hair falling loose around her shoulders. And those eyes—big, brown, and full of panic.
“Massimo must’ve sent her by mistake, but I didn’t care. Something about her felt like a challenge.
And that made her perfect.
Massimo grabbed her by the arm, shoving her forward. "This is the one, Don. Shes.."..
I leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying her like a puzzle I wanted to solve.
"What's your name?"
She hesitated, lips trembling. "K-Katarina."
"Katarina." I let her name roll off my tongue slowly, tasting it. She flinched like I'd touched her. "Do you know who I am?"
She nodded, barely.
"Good." I leaned back, letting the silence stretch. "Then you know I don't like wasting time."
Massimo barked something at her…show me what she's got, perform, I didn't care..but I kept my eyes on her.
She looked at me. Then at Massimo. Then at the gun on Marco's hip.
Then she leaned in and kissed me.
Clumsy. Inexperienced. Shaking like a leaf.
And it made me hard.
I grabbed her—one hand fisting her dress, the other gripping her breast. She gasped, and her nipple slipped free. I rolled it between my fingers, slow and deliberate, watching her face flush with shame and heat.
Her mouth opened under mine. I took it. Claimed it. My tongue swept in, tasting her fear and something sweeter—arousal.
She was wet. I could smell it.
My cock pressed hard against her thigh, and she whimpered—not from pain, but from need.
I wanted to flip her over the table right there. Spread her legs. Bury myself so deep she'd forget her own name.
But I didn't.
I pulled back, holding her gaze. Her pupils were blown wide. Lips swollen.
She was Perfect.
Then the door opened.
Another woman arrived..the one Massimo had meant to bring. I waved her off.
I looked at Katarina, kneeling in front of me, her dress half off and her body still trembling.
Then I smiled.
"Let her go." She nodded frantically and ran.
But I didn't stop watching.
Not when she stumbled through the door. Not when she disappeared into the crowd.
I stood, adjusting my jacket, and walked to the exit.
There….on the street…I saw her climbing into a cab with another girl.
She looked back.
Our eyes met.
And I smiled and left.
…………………………………………
Back in the VIP room, Marco lit a cigarette. "You want me to find her?"
"Yes."
I looked at him, my voice cold and certain. "She walked into my world. That makes her mine now."
"You really gonna chase some random girl?"
I smiled slow and dangerous.
"She's not random anymore." She may have walked out that door. But she stopped being free the moment her lips touched mine. I’d find her. No matter what it took.”
She walked into the wrong room but what if it wasn’t a mistake?
Vittorio’s POV“Sit her down.”Fiorella didn’t fight when the guards pushed her into the chair. Her wrists were tied, ankles too. Her hair was a mess, eyes swollen, face pale but proud. Like she still thought she had a way out.Valentino leaned against the table, arms crossed. “Comfortable?”She smirked. “I’ve had worse.”I ignored her and nodded for the guards to leave. The door shut, heavy and final.The silence that followed was thick. Only her breathing and the small hum of the light.Katarina stood by the wall, arms crossed, a bandage still on her head. She shouldn’t have been here. I told her that, twice already.“You’re not staying,” I said without looking at her.“I’m not leaving either,” she said.“This isn’t your fight.”“She hit me in the head,” she shot back. “It feels like my fight.”I turned to her then, slow. “Not this time. You’re done getting hurt for me. I’ll handle it.”Katarina’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t argue again. She just moved to the corner and folded h
Vittorio’s POV“Signore! Signore!” Ombra’s voice ripped through the hall like a scream.I was halfway through pulling on a shirt when she burst into the room, eyes wide, face pale. “It’s Madam Katarina—she’s hurt! The war room door was open. She’s on the floor—there’s blood!”For one second, everything stopped. Then I was moving. Without shoes and no shirt. Just shorts and the rush of adrenaline. In my body Valentino came out of his room at the same time, his hair was a mess and gun already in hand. “What happened?” he barked. Ombra was still panting. “The nanny found Katarina in the war room. Said she was bleeding. I—I think someone attacked her.”He didn’t wait for more.We moved with speed.The house blurred. I barely saw the marble or the guards we passed. My head was ringing too loud to hear anything except her name.Please not her. Not again.When we reached the west wing, Ombra pointed. “There!”The war room door was half open and Blood smeared the floor. And she was
Fiorella’s POVI ran. Barefoot, breath cutting through the quiet halls like broken glass.The map was clutched tight against my chest, wrapped in a sheet I’d ripped from the bed to keep it from smearing with blood. Katarina’s blood.Her eyes had gone wide right before I hit her.I didn’t plan it. It just happened.One second she was shouting my name, the next the statue was in my hand.The sound still rang in my ears—that dull crack of bone.For a second, she just stood there, stunned, and then dropped like a puppet with no strings.I told myself it was her fault. She shouldn’t have followed me.But every step I took after that, I could smell the blood on my hands.“Think, Fiorella. Think.”The corridors stretched forever. My mind spun faster than my feet. If the guards saw me now, it was over. I could already feel the burn of suspicion in every shadow. I turned a corner and almost slipped, steadying myself against the wall.My room. I had to get back before anyone realized what I’d
Katarina’s POV“Five a.m. and I’m still awake,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet, but my brain wouldn’t shut up. Every sound—the hum of the AC, the faint ticking of the clock—felt loud. I turned on my side and pressed a hand against my stomach. It was still flat, but I knew what was inside now. “I’m gonna be a mom,” I whispered. Saying it out loud made it real. Too real.My phone glowed on the nightstand. I hesitated for a second, then grabbed it and called Selena. It rang four times before her groggy voice came through. “If someone’s dead, I’m hanging up.”“No one’s dead,” I said. “Promise.”“Then why the hell are you calling me before sunrise?”I bit my lip. “Because I just confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”That woke her up. “What?” she gasped. “Kat! You’re serious?”“Yeah.”“Holy crap.” I heard sheets rustle. “You’re gonna be a mom.”“Don’t say it like that,” I groaned. “It sounds like a threat.”Selena laughed softly. “You’ll be good at it. You’re bossy enoug
Fiorella’s POV“They’re watching me,” I whispered. The mirror didn’t answer, but I saw it in the reflection — two guards outside my door, pretending not to stare. Suzy sat up, blinking. “Mama, no one’s there.”“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, pointing at the door. “They whisper. At night. You don’t hear it because you sleep like a baby.”She frowned. “They’re watching us,” I said louder this time. “They’ll check the house at sunrise. If I don’t move now, it’s over.”Suzy rubbed her eyes from the bed. “Mama, who?”“Everyone,” I snapped. “Go back to sleep.”She sat up, hugging her stuffed bear. “You didn’t sleep either.”“Because I can’t,” I said, pacing again. My hands wouldn’t stay still. “Every step I take, someone’s following.”“Maybe they just care,” she said softly.I stopped. “No. They suspect.”Her little face fell. “Did I do something?”I turned too fast. “You? You opened your mouth about that other one last night. Remember?”Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”“You neve
Vittorio’s POVThe office smelled like whiskey and smoke. Valentino was already there, sitting behind my desk like he owned the place. I closed the door.He looked up. “She asleep?”“Yeah,” I said. “Finally.”He nodded, slow. “You look like shit.”“Thanks,” I muttered, pouring myself a drink. “You look worse.”He smirked, but it didn’t last long. “We need to talk about Fiorella.”I leaned against the desk, glass in hand. “Yeah. We do.”“She’s not her,” he said quietly.I stared at him for a long second. “You finally see it too.”He sighed. “I kept trying not to. But… it’s obvious now. The way she talks, moves—everything. It’s off.”“Not just off,” I said. “It’s wrong.”He rubbed his jaw. “So it’s not jealousy, or trauma, or memory loss?”“No,” I said. “It’s something else. Something planted.”Valentino leaned forward. “You think she’s compromised?”“I think whoever that woman is—she’s not Fiorella.”He went quiet. The clock ticked on the wall.“You were the one who loved her first,”







