Masuk~ELENA~
I try to school my expression but I'm frozen at the base of the mansion steps, staring like a complete idiot.
Triplets.
My new stepbrothers are goddamn triplets.
And I made out with one of them.
One of them.
My brain short circuits.
Yes, they're identical, but they're not the same.
The one on the left wears a black suit like he's born in it. He doesn't smile. Don't blink. Just watch me with cold, expressionless eyes.
The one in the middle is all tattoos and smirks, like he knows he's trouble but enjoys it. A silver ring glints in his ear as he tilts his head.
The last one lingers at the top of the steps, arms crossed, quiet. Then his expression softens.
One of them is the mystery man who rocked my world last night, but which one??
“You must be Elena. I'm Nico,” the tattooed one says, striding towards me with a lazy grin.
“That's Vincenzo…Enzo for short” he gestures to the one in the suit. “And the other one is Riccardo.”
They're all staring.
I grip my suitcase tighter, trying to pretend like I'm not internally combusting.
“Hi,” I say softly to them.
Nico's smile widens. “So you're the new sister.”
He says it as a joke or as a challenge but I can't tell.
Vincenzo doesn't speak. He just turns and brushes Nico's shoulders as he enters the house.
Nico lingers for a second longer before following him inside.
Riccardo stays where he is, watching me.
“You look nervous,” he murmurs.
I swallow hard.
“Shouldn't I be??”
“Mom isn't home and dad is away for a week. So we're the only ones at home for now” he says, and just like his brothers turns and walks away.
Then on a second thought, walks back to me and helps me carry both my luggages into the house.
“Follow me. Let me show you to your room” he says and I follow him.
We climb the long stairs that feels like it's never ending and start to walk through the long hallway.
“This is Vincenzo's room. He's the first one of the triplets” he informs me as we walk past a door.
“And this is Nico's room. He's the second one” he says as we walk past the second room. “I'm the third one.”
“This is your room” he says as we stop at the next room after Nico's. “And the room after yours is mine.”
So my room is after Vincenzo's and Nico's, and before Riccardo's.
I roll my eyes. I am in the middle of them.
Riccardo opens the door for me but doesn't come in.
He keeps my luggages at the door.
“Feel at home” he says, then turns and walks away.
I stare at him till he's no longer in sight, before pushing my luggage into my room and shutting the door behind me.
The room is beautiful and designed in my favorite color, purple.
It's stunning…soft lavender walls, golden lighting, and elegant decors that whisper luxury.
A cozy reading nook with a cushioned window seat overlooks the garden outside.
A plush queen sized bed, layered with fluffy pillows and a velvety comforter sits beneath a delicate chandelier that bathes the room in a warm, golden glow.
It's everything I loved, wrapped in quiet perfection.
I begin to unpack and my mind goes to Valentina and Gianna.
Oh, how they'll love to hear about this recent update..
But it'll be a gist for later. For now, I must unpack.
***
Later that night…
The dining room is enormous–vaulted ceilings, gold trimmed walls, a crystal chandelier that drips light like snow.
I sit at the long table in a velvet chair that feels too expensive to touch.
I'm not hungry.
My mother and her new husband sit at the other end.
Her new husband is supposed to be away for a week but he had returned home with mom this afternoon.
He introduces himself as Lorenzo Romano to me.
He is a man with so much authority and charisma. And for some strange reason, I can tell he's very dangerous.
He is talking in soft murmurs with my mom from where they sit.
I don't catch much, only phrases like “expanding territory” and “cleaning up loose ends.”
Mafia talk.
I'm too stunned to process it.
My mom got married to a Mafia Lord???
I don't have enough time to think about it, when they walk in.
All three of them.
Dressed in black. Moving like shadows.
Vincenzo takes the seat across from me. Nico drops into the one right beside me. Riccardo sits at the other end, near the wall, barely looking up.
I can feel Nico's eyes on my bare shoulders.
“I hope you like red” he murmurs, pouring into my glass before I can even answer.
“I'm twenty two” I reply.
“That's legal” he grins.
Vincenzo doesn't speak. Just cuts into his steak with quiet precision, never looking up.
But I feel his presence like heat against my skin. There's something in the way he moves–controlled, deadly.
“You don't talk much, do you?” I ask softly, looking at him.
His hands pauses. He lifts his eyes.
My stomach flips.
“I talk when it matters,” he says.
That's all. But it hits harder than it should.
This is definitely not the one I made out with at the club. If he was, he shouldn't be this cold towards me.
It's probably Nico or Riccardo.
Nico chuckles. “You'll get used to his grump phase. It's lasted twenty five years so far.”
Riccardo finally speaks from the end.
“You shouldn't be here, Elena.”
My heart stutters.
“I didn't choose this” I reply.
“Doesn't matter” he says. “This place changes people and not for the better.”
Nico raises an eyebrow. “You're worried that we'll corrupt her??”
Riccardo doesn't answer. He just stares into his wine glass like it holds the end of the world.
Vincenzo finishes his food in silence, then stands without a word.
“Where are you going?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He pauses. Looks over his shoulder.
“You don't want to get too comfortable, sorellina” he says in a voice that sounds exactly like the one in the club.
Then he walks out.
Nico watches me with interest.
“Do you even know what that means??” He asks.
I shake my head.
His voice lowers, almost a whisper in my ears.
“It means little sister.”
And suddenly I'm burning.
Because Vincenzo said it like a threat. Not a warning.
***
I return back to my room after dinner. I lay on my bed big enough to lose my thoughts in. But peace is impossible.
I can't sleep.
I stare at the ceiling, heart pounding.
They all look the same and almost sound the same.
Why did it have to be triplets??
One of them kissed me like his life depended on it.
One of them whispered sweet things to me.
One of them had his hands all over me.
But which freaking one??
I groan, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to my face.
There's a soft knock at the door.
I freeze.
Then another knock…firmer this time.
I open it.
It's Nico.
Of course it's Nico.
He leans casually against the doorframe, shirt unbuttoned halfway, like he knows he's sexy.
“Can't sleep??” He asks.
“Something like that” I reply.
He raises a brow. “Want company?”
Red alert. Red. Alert.
My brain is screaming.
But my mouth??
It says, “Sure.”
Idiot!!
~MARCELLA~It’s really happening. I can’t believe I just kissed Lucas in front of everyone.The thought crashes into me a split second after my lips touch his.Gasps erupt around us like someone just set off fireworks in the middle of the hall.“Oh my God……”“Did she just….?”“No way. Like really…The whispers spread fast. Shocked. Thrilled. Hungry.No one expected it.Not the quiet, composed Lucas.Not me.And definitely not Xavier.For half a heartbeat, I realize what I’m doing.What I’ve done.The alcohol clears just enough for panic to flicker in my chest.This is insane.This is public.This is……I start to pull back.But Lucas eyes dart somewhere in the hall and his hand tightens at my waist.Firm and possessive.His other hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling lightly in my hair, and before I can even process it…..he pulls me closer, and kisses me back.The kiss is not careful, not gentle, but passionate and intense.Like he’s been holding
~MARCELLA~“Lucas is my boyfriend, and I owe you no explanation because we're over, and there's nothing you can do about who I choose to date,” I say, my gaze locking with his.Xavier’s jaw ticks…..That hit.I can see it in the way his expression hardens and darkens dangerously.“You’re making a mistake,” he says quietly. “And I will deal with him for daring to make you his girlfriend.”The threat hangs heavily in the air.Then his gaze sharpens at me.“And if you don’t come back to me,” he adds coldly, “you’ll regret it too.”For a split second, the old fear tries to creep back.But I crush it instantly.A soft, mocking laugh escapes my lips.“If only you knew who my father is,” I say sweetly.He frowns.“And if my father gets hold of you after hearing you threatened me?” I continue, voice dripping with dramatic pity. “I’m actually sorry for you in advance.”His scoff is immediate.“Your father can do nothing to me.”My smile widens…..Slow, daring and provocat
~MARCELLA~“She’s my woman.”The words don’t just land.They explode.Inside my chest. Inside my head. Inside my entire body.Everything is completely silent. The silence does not break immediately.It stretches.Heavy. Suffocating. Loud in a way silence should never be.I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears—fast, uneven, humiliatingly loud.Lucas’ hand is still wrapped around my arm. Warm. Steady. Grounding.Xavier’s hand is still at my waist…Possessive and claiming.Like I am an object being fought over in the middle of a damn hall full of people.My throat tightens as Lucas’ words continue to replay again and again and again in my head.For a second, I genuinely thought I misheard him.Girlfriend??Lover??Did he just publicly declare that in front of everyone??? The same guy I was chasing after and he kept ignoring me??My heart stutters so violently it actually hurts.What??!!!!!Oh my God!Oh my God!!Oh my God!!!My eyes snap to Lucas so fast my neck alm
~MARCELLA~I shouldn't have looked in Lucas’ direction again, but I made the mistake of looking.And now, Xavier has seen him.His jaw ticks.“Ah,” he says softly. “There he is.”I snap my eyes back to him. “Don’t.”The warning leaves my mouth before I can stop it.He laughs under his breath. Low. Amused.“So you did dress up for him.”“That’s none of your business.”“It used to be my business,” he replies.The audacity.The sheer audacity.I finally yank my arm harder this time.He loosens his grip….but only to slide his hand down to my waist.Possessive. Calculated.My heart drops.“Xavier, stop.”His eyes darken slightly at the sound of his name.“I told you I’d meet him if I ever got the chance,” he says quietly, leaning closer. Too close. I can feel his breath near my ear. “You thought I was joking?”I push against his chest.He doesn’t budge.“Why are you doing this?” I demand under my breath.His expression flickers.For half a second, something almost
~MARCELLA~My breath leaves me in a sharp, broken gasp.The shock isn’t mild. It’s blinding.For a second, I genuinely can’t process what just happened. My brain lags behind my body. My skin burns where his fingers wrap around my arm, firm and unapologetic.Xavier is holding me.In the middle of a dinner party.Like I still belong to him.My heart slams violently against my ribs as I instinctively look around.Stephanie.Where is Stephanie?My eyes dart over shoulders, heads, moving bodies. The hall is crowded. The chandeliers above cast golden light over everything, making the entire room glow like something out of a magazine. The scent of expensive perfume and grilled steak hangs thick in the air. Glasses clink. Waiters move through the crowd with trays balanced effortlessly on their palms.And I feel like I’m suffocating.And then I see her.She’s across the room.Far. Too far.She’s standing with Jason near one of the round tables, her back slightly turned,
~MARCELLA~The moment I see him clearly, my entire body goes rigid.Xavier.Not just Xavier.Xavier walking in like this is his event.Like he belongs here.Like he wasn’t the last person I expected to see tonight.My surprise isn’t soft. It’s violent. It slams into me so hard I actually take a step back.“He isn’t supposed to be here…” I whisper under my breath, and even to my own ears, I sound shaken.I have never been the one to be scared of Xavier, but for some unknown reason tonight, I'm suddenly shaken by his presence.This dinner is strictly for Arts and Law faculties. Invitations were controlled. Names were checked at the door. Xavier has absolutely nothing to do with either. He made that very clear throughout our relationship—always mocking how “dramatic” art students are and how “boring” law people look in their stiff outfits.So what is he doing here?My eyes slowly shift to the girl glued to his arm. She’s laughing at something he says, tilting he







