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 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,”
Katarina’s POV“Mommy Kat!”The second I stepped through the door, a tiny body slammed into my legs.“Papi—” I barely caught him before he almost tripped us both. His arms wrapped tight around me, face buried in my stomach.“You came back!” he said, voice muffled.I smiled weakly, running my hand through his hair. “Of course I came back, troublemaker.”Ombra appeared from the hallway, her scarf wrapped tight around her head. “He refused to sleep,” she said, shaking her head. “Said he would not close eyes until he saw you.”Papi looked up at her, serious. “I told you she’d come.”I laughed softly. “You win, little man. But now it’s late. You need to go to bed.”He frowned. “Only if you tuck me in.”“I will,” I promised. “In a minute.”Vittorio’s voice came from behind me, low and dry. “I need tucking in too. Who’s taking care of me?”I turned, giving him a look. “You can tuck yourself, big man.”He smirked. “I was hoping for equal treatment.”“Dream on,” I muttered, brushing past him.
Ghost’s POV“Seatbelt,” I said.Suzy was already buckled in the back, her tiny legs swinging, hair a mess from the long day. She hugged a pink stuffed bear to her chest and looked up at me with sleepy eyes.“I already did,” she said proudly. “Mama said seatbelts are for good girls.”“Then you’re a good girl,” I said, forcing a small smile.Fiorella didn’t answer. She sat stiff beside me in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the window like she was watching ghosts in the dark.“Seatbelt,” I repeated, this time to her.She didn’t move. “It’s on,” she muttered, the belt hanging loose.“You used to hate them,” I said quietly. “Said they wrinkled your dress.”“Maybe I changed,” she said flatly, eyes still forward.I watched her reflection in the glass. Same face. Same voice. But not the same woman.“You always talk this much, Muscle?” she asked, her tone sharp.That name hit wrong. She’d never called me that. Not once. The real Fiorella used to call me G, or sometimes Ghostie when she wa
Katarina’s POV“Vittorio, let me go! I can walk by myself!” My voice bounced off the hallway walls, but he didn’t slow down. His hand was locked around my wrist like a steel cuff.“I told you, I’m fine,” I said again, tugging against him. “You’re making a scene!”He didn’t even look back. “You fainted at a racetrack and nearly got hit by a car. You’re not fine.”“I didn’t nearly get hit,” I argued. “The barrier stopped it!”He shot me a look over his shoulder — sharp, quiet, and deadly. “If that barrier hadn’t held, you’d be a smear on the asphalt.”“Jesus, you’re dramatic,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Where are we even going?”“The lab,” he said. “You said you might be pregnant.”My heart jumped. “I said might be! I haven’t done a test yet!”“You’re doing one now.”“What?” I pulled my hand out of his grip. “No. I didn’t agree to that.”“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone flat as a blade. “We’re already in the hospital. Might as well confirm it.”“I didn’t even tell you for sure
Katarina’s POV“Where the hell am I?”The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was light — too much of it. Bright, white, blinding. It stabbed behind my eyelids. Then faces. Blurry, moving around me. Voices overlapping.“She’s awake!” someone shouted. “Get the doctor!” “Easy, easy— don’t move her yet.”I blinked fast, trying to see through the haze. My head throbbed like I’d been hit with a brick. Everything smelled like alcohol wipes and metal. A hospital. I was in a damn hospital.“What—” My voice came out hoarse. “What happened?”A nurse leaned over me, smiling the way people do when they’re trying to calm a bomb. “You fainted, signorina. You’re safe. Please relax.”Fainted?I tried to sit up, but the IV tugged at my arm. “No, I— there was a crash. At the track. Where’s—” My stomach turned. “Where’s Valentino?”The nurse glanced toward the door. “He’s fine, signorina. Resting in the next room.”I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My chest ached. My body felt
Vittorio’s POV“Line them up.”My voice echoed through the warehouse, low and sharp.The guards dragged the men forward—heads of the media outlets who’d filmed outside my house that morning. Their suits were rumpled, their faces pale. Some had piss stains on their pants. All of them were blindfolded.The air smelled like cold metal and sweat. Cigarette smoke curled above the concrete floor.Salvatore stood beside me, arms crossed, face unreadable.“Take off their blindfolds,” I said.One by one, the guards ripped them off. Eyes blinked in the harsh white light.“Gentlemen,” I said, walking slow. “You know why you’re here.”No one answered. Just breathing—shaky, uneven.I stopped in front of the first man. His name tag still hung crooked on his jacket. “You were at my villa this morning. You took pictures. You uploaded them. You made my home your circus.”He stammered. “S-sir, it was just news—”“News?” I repeated. “You call disrespecting my family news?”He shook his head, mouth trem







