Two days passed without Sera leaving her suite after witnessing the murder she saw Valerio perpetrate.She stayed huddled on the oversized velvet sofa, wrapped in a blanket, jolting at every knock, every creak of footsteps outside the hall.Her mind went round and round with it over and over — the calculating competence, the factual brutality.She couldn't *want* a person like that.She *couldn't*.And yet…She slept with him at night.Of silk and blood.Of pinning hands and bruising mouths, a voice speaking foul, awful promises on the skin.She woke gasping, dripping with sweat, legs clenched around an ache she was not about to name anything.*It's fear,* she lied to herself.*Nothing else.*She was lying though.And despised herself for it.---On the third day, gifts arrived.The first was a simple, elegant box set on the coffee table when she didn't notice.Inside, supported by black velvet, was a thin, delicate anklet of gold.Delicate. Thin.And a tiny ruby pendant shaped like
Sera thought that after she'd strapped on the anklet around her ankle — after she'd held her tongue and *given in* silently — things would calm down.They did not.Valerio didn't storm into her suite.He didn't touch her.He didn't even speak to her the following day.But the world outside her *altered*.In a quiet. Unseen. Complete manner.It started with what she wore.The closet that used to be filled with her plain jeans and frayed sweaters was now packed with silk, lace, leather.Gowns so sheer they were almost invisible.Lingerie that seemed to promise defeat.Shoes with heels so high they made her legs tremble.Sera wouldn't wear any of it initially.She stormed back into her old jeans and sweatshirt, refusing to admit the boxes that piled up day by day.Pretending she wasn't interested in the fine material, the brutal cut of the clothing.But Valerio was patient.Patient, and cruel.When she entered the hallway to find something to eat, she noticed a new notice on the door.**
Morning light poured across the suite like molten gold.Sera sat at the breakfast table, gazing at the new note lying neatly beside her untouched food.> **Today's rules:**>> 1. You will greet me on your knees.> 2. You will wear the dress I've chosen.> 3. You will not lie to me.Three simple things.Three impossible things.Her stomach twisted into knots.*On my knees?**Like a pet. Like a whore.*She pushed the card away roughly and picked up a piece of toast, her trembling hands.No. No, she wouldn't do this. Wouldn't.She'd already given him too much — her silence, compliance, betrayals of her body's shame.If she gave him her dignity too.She'd have nothing left.---She broke the first rule.When the heavy knock shook her door, Sera stood tall.Heart racing, sweat trickling down her spine, she slammed open the door.Valerio stood there.Sin incarnate in a crisp black suit, tie loose around his neck, his dark hair rumpled as if he'd just run his fingers through it in frustrati
The night pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite, a black velvet curtain dotted with city lights.Sera stood at the glass, arms clasped tightly around her chest, trying to contain the storm inside her.She hated him.She hated the way he made her feel.She hated the way her body responded to him — starving, desperate, hungry.And she detested that aspect of her, this dark, starving aspect of her she barely knew, *loved* the way he unraveled her.*You need to leave,* she told herself.*You need to remind yourself who you are.*It was too late, however.The man had stitched himself into her skin, into her very breaths.And she couldn't unravel him.---Behind her, the door of the suite quietly clicked shut.Heavy footsteps strode across the room, slow and deliberate.Sera tensed.She did not turn around.She did not have to.She felt him — Valerio — like a stormfront sweeping in.Dangerous. Imminent."Sera," he said, his voice a dark caress.She winced at his use of h
The first thing Sera became conscious of was warmth.Not just the heavy, expensive bedding that surrounded her, but the heat of a body lying next to hers — large, heavy, emitting a quiet possessiveness even in sleep.Her heart stumbled.*No.*She squeezed her eyes shut.Maybe it was a dream.Maybe she'd fallen asleep backstage and this was some delirious fantasy brought on by exhaustion.But when she opened one eye, what she saw was more deadly than any nightmare.Valerio De Luca.Half undressed.An arm loose around her waist, pinning her in place.His dark eyelashes against his razor-sharp cheekbones, lending him a look almost. innocent.If it were possible for a man like him.---Sera stiffened, trying to piece together the night before.Images flashed in clusters:His mouth.His hands.The manner in which he *worshipped* her body until she couldn't remember her own name.Until she remembered nothing but the brutal, punishing pleasure he'd inflicted on her.Her thighs clenched toget
Sera stood in front of Valerio's massive penthouse door, racing heart so thudding she was certain anyone could hear it from down the street.Her bag was loaded.She'd stolen it from the closet when he'd withdrawn to his office — no doubt to make over some foul, bloody deal she had no desire to take part in.She tightened her grip on the strap.*You can do this. Simply get up. Go, Sera.*Her trembling hands wrapped around the golden door handle.Twisted.Pulled.It creaked open.Freedom.Close.She pushed out into the corridor, fighting not to breathe too deeply.Not to see how with each step she got farther away from him something in her chest groaned open and bled.---She reached the elevator.Pressed the button with desperate fingers.The doors opened and she near *threw* herself on.Heart racing in her throat, she pounded her hand on the ground floor button.*Come on, come on—*The doors started to close.And then — a hand.Strong, big, and oh-so-familiar.Ripped them open again.
Sera rested against the side of the enormous bed, looking at the velvet cuffs dangling from the headboard.Her wrists still burned from where Valerio had bound them to his tie in the elevator.Her thighs still ached from the rejection he'd teased her with sadistically.And here she was.His captive.Again.Shrouded in silk sheets, choking on the scent of him.She hated him.She hated herself more for how much her body hurt for him anyway.---The door creaked open with a resounding *thud.*Valerio stepped in, shedding his black suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.The tattoos on his forearms rippled with every movement, wicked and dark.Sera winced involuntarily.He saw it.Of course he did.And he smiled — that slow, ruinous smile that made her thighs clench against her will."Relaxed, *angel?*"he asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.She said nothing.Just glared.Valerio chuckled, low and menacing."You'll learn, little dancer.""You'll learn to answer when I s
Sera stood frozen in the center of the room.Blindfolded.Naked.Arms tied behind her back with silk rope that Valerio had tied so expertly, intentionally — not for binding, but for beauty. The clever knots wound across her skin like a macabre tapestry, each one a reminder of her helplessness.Her breath was shallow.Shallow.Quick.Each nerve ending exposed.Her heart slammed against her ribs.She hated him for doing this to her.Hated herself more for how wet she already was.---Valerio circled her slowly.Boots thudding heavily on the hardwood floor.A predator inspecting his prey.Every few steps, he would brush his knuckles lightly over her bare skin — a fleeting touch that left her shuddering, desperate, insane for more."You’re beautiful like this," he murmured.His voice wrapped around her like velvet and barbed wire."Bound. Blind. Helpless."Sera whimpered softly.She hated being this exposed.Hated the way her body craved the very man who had confined her.---Valerio stop
The chapel smelled of dust, old incense, and secrets buried in stone. Beneath the crucifix and shattered stained glass, Valerio opened the crypt hidden in the floorboards. The darkness inside wasn't just physical—it was generational. Legacy. Lies.Sera was right behind him, flashlight clutched tightly in her hand as he descended into the area beneath the altar."Careful," she whispered."Always," he snarled, his voice gritty with the weight of everything he'd learned.He found it in a rusted lockbox, hidden beneath decaying fabric and family heirlooms. There were photos, ledgers, names written in ink that had blurred with time. Dario had told the truth—Lucrezia hadn't just orchestrated the fire. She'd bought loyalty in blood and in silence.And now she was building something darker.Valerio materialized, his jaw set, holding the box against his chest as though it might explode."We're not just taking her down," he snarled, voice low. "We're burning everything she's built."Sera steppe
The Verona villa had been their sanctuary for only a week, but Sera was already cognizant that tranquility was nothing but an illusion in Valerio's life.Morning sunlight streamed across the stone courtyard, bathing the ivy-walled rooms in gold. But the warmth in the air only managed to heat the storm raging within Valerio. He braced himself on the table with a black espresso cup, elbows sinking into the surface, eyes locked on the map of allegiances Dario had laid out the previous night.Sera moved soundlessly, her bare feet shod only in his massive shirt, which was short enough to fall just above her thighs. The silk clung to her curves in a way that once would have been distracting.Not today.Not after what Dario had discovered.Lucrezia hadn't simply plotted the murder of Valerio's mother. She had been positioning herself as the true queen of the underworld, eliminating those who stood in her way—one by one.“Talk to me,” Sera said gently, brushing a hand across Valerio’s shoulde
The cellar beneath the Verona estate was colder than Sera expected. Not from the stone or the shadows—but from the weight of memory that clung to every brick. Valerio led her, his torch casting uncertain light on vaulted ceilings and cobwebbed wine racks that had not seen a disturbance in decades.Dario's warning echoed in her head. "The evidence is under the chapel. Behind the pretend wall in the wine cellar."Valerio found the wall in an instant, eyes sharpened by revenge and memory. He knocked on the stone until a hollow knock gave it away. A breath thereafter, a panel creaked outward with the sound of a coffin lid.Behind the wall lay rows of metal drawers. Files. Documents. Photographs.Evidence.Valerio grabbed a thick file and flipped it open. His fingers froze. A photograph. His mother—smiling, unaware—circled in red ink. A second photo beneath it showed the same woman stepping into a car. Her death car. The date stamped in the corner chilled the air.“It was planned down to t
The chapel was wrapped in cold quiet. Dust clung to the air like secrets too heavy for speech. Valerio crept slowly down the aisle, every step echoing under the vaulted ceiling. Sera followed hard behind, her eyes scanning the candlelit walls, the worn frescoes of saints and martyrs who long ago had stopped listening.They reached the altar. Dario had been very clear. At the rear of the pulpit, under the seventh tile.Valerio knelt and pushed it open.Under the stone was a vacant space, and in it, an old metal box.He yanked it loose, his own breath ragging in the weight of it—not the physical weight, exactly, but the history that filled it. He set it on the floor and sprung the catch. The hinges shrieked loudly as the top groaned open.Inside were files, photos, letters written in hand—letters imprinted with blood and betrayal, stamped indelibly.Sera knelt by him, reaching out to grab a letter. It was to Lucrezia, in a bold, flowing hand.*"The fire is scheduled. The boy will surviv
Centuries-old secrets were whispered through the stone walls of the chapel as Valerio, Sera, and Dario descended the spiral stair under the altar. The air was thick with dust, its silence disturbed only by the echo of footsteps and the flickering light of the old oil lamp Dario held."This room hasn't been disturbed in decades," he said, the flames casting ominous shadows on his face. "My father said it was for prayer. He lied."Valerio ran his hand over the damp stone wall, his eyes slitting. "How many lies must we uncover before this war ends?"Sera remained close to him, her hand brushing against his as they went deeper into the earth. She felt the heaviness in him—the way he carried the weight of every betrayal, every loss, every flame that ever burned beneath his family's name.At the bottom of the stairs, they entered a narrow corridor with iron doors along the walls. Dario stopped in front of the third."This is it."He entered a code on a rusted keypad, and the door screeched
The cold of the Verona air followed them as they made their way to the chapel that Dario had told them about. It was at the far end of the estate, flanked by cypress trees that groaned in the wind, their shadows extending long and foreboding in the moonlight. The building was old, its stones weathered with centuries of secrets and sin.Valerio held Sera's hand tightly, the other wrapped around the butt of his gun. Even with Dario guiding them, trust did not come easily."How far down does it go?" Valerio ordered, staring at the chapel's weathered interior."Under the altar," Dario whispered, his eyes darting up to the worn crucifix that hung above. "There's a trapdoor, hidden by the marble. My father and I would use it when we had to. store things."Sera swallowed, her nerves tightening. The air was colder in here, unnaturally so. She felt it in her bones, in the way her skin prickled."You’re sure no one else knows about this?" she asked.Dario hesitated. "Only Lucrezia. But she beli
The gala vibrated with secrets and shadows, but none thicker than that surrounding Sera as she navigated the crowd. She wasn't herself tonight. She was Celeste D'Amour, an enigmatic heiress from the French Riviera with a taste for danger and champagne. It was a name devised by Dario, corroborated by a fleshed-out identity trail and whispered associations with power.Sera had never been so naked, and yet so masked. And that paradox vibrated beneath her skin.Valerio's voice was a soft whisper in her ear, grounding. "She's watching you. Play it slow."Sera took a sip from her glass, letting her eyes drift over the room briefly, bored, uninterested. But she felt it—Lucrezia's eyes slicing through the crowd like blades. Waiting. Hunting."She's moving," Dario murmured over comms. "Two guards with her. Coming up on your left."Sera turned, just a bit. Enough to appear interested, not set up.Lucrezia walked like winter—deadly, gracious. Her voice, when it came, was a dagger in silk."I don
The chapel just beyond Dario's grounds stood like a monument to having been forgotten by time—ivy covering the stone walls, broken stained glass windows, their former brightly colored hues now faded with age. It was lovely, haunting. A cemetery of secrets.Sera stood beside Valerio, flashlight in hand. The marble floors echoed beneath their steps as they walked toward the altar. The air inside was cold, still, too quiet—as if the walls themselves were holding their breath."You’re sure the evidence is here?" she asked.Valerio nodded. "Dario said under the altar. There's a hiding place beneath the ancient offering table. My mother used to say her morning prayers here. If she knew what was rotting beneath her feet."He did not go on. Instead, he knelt and pressed a row of intricately carved angel wings on the altar. There was a quiet click. The marble swung back with a creak, and a thin stairway descending into darkness was revealed.Sera looked down. "Of course there's a creepy crypt.
The aftermath of the attack on the safehouse left a thick tension hanging in the air, heavier than the smoke and blood splatters they'd all but escaped. It was early dawn, but Valerio's world had been rewritten. The game had new rules.He stood on the edge of a cliff, beyond the forest clearing several miles from the desecrated safehouse, the wind cutting through his coat and nibbling at him. Sera followed him, silent. The night was silent too, too silent. Out in the distance, there were owls hooting into the night, peacefully unaware of the war raging in silence beneath their branches."We have to go," she whispered.Valerio changed, his face carved from stone. "Where?""To whoever's next on your list."She kept pace with him, slipping her hand into his. He glanced down at the manner in which her fingers curled around his—tight, unyielding."This doesn't stop until we find the one pulling the strings," she continued. "Until you're free."Valerio's face twisted. "Then we start with Da