Sera sat on the edge of the opulent bed, her fists gripping the silk robe that cascaded loosely over her bare skin. The opulent room was quiet—too quiet. A malevolent kind of quiet, the kind that pressed against her chest like invisible fingers.The door groaned open.Valerio stepped in, black shirt hanging open partway, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The air between them became heavy with tension, the air itself seeming to realize the seriousness of their desperation."You ran from me this morning," he growled, voice low. Smooth. Deadly.Sera stood up. "I needed space."His eyes went darker. "You don't get to run from me.""You bought my freedom and then stuck me in another cage."Valerio stalked toward her with the calm of a predator, each step measured. When he reached her, he didn’t touch—only stared, breathing her in. “This isn’t a cage. This is the safest place you’ve ever been.”“I don’t want safety,” she snapped. “I want control over my own life.”He tilted his head. “Then t
Morning light dropped in soft gold on the room, lighting the chaos she'd left behind. Sera stirred, bed sheets tangled around her legs, muscles screaming in pain.But even before morning completely opened its eyes, before she'd even blinked, the memories hit her like a tidal wave.Valerio's mouth.His hands.The way he utilized her body as his tool, playing her until she broke apart into fragments for him.She shivered, pulling the sheet tightly around her. From somewhere in the suite, she could hear the low rumble of his voice on the phone. Business. Deals. Violence muttered just beneath the surface, the same as it ever was with him.Sera slipped quietly out of bed, her feet making soft bare footsteps on the cold marble floor. She found her robe crumpled at the foot of the dresser and slid it over her shoulders, belting the tie tightly around her waist as if it would shield her from the jumbled chaos in her chest.By the racket, Valerio was still working. Good. She needed space. Need
The hours fled on a vortex of stolen moments and stolen whispers.Sera learned the rhythms of Valerio's world—the late calls, the secretive meetings, the undertow of violence that never quite went away, even when he wrapped her in silk shrouds and kissed her until she forgot her own.She found the way he touched her when he thought she was asleep, rubbing his fingers against her skin gently as if he needed the reassurance that she was there.She found, most dangerously of all, how readily her heart softened to him.She was scared.And it thrilled her.This morning was no exception.Sera awakened to the scent of coffee—real coffee, dense and deep and bitter—and the gentle clinking of breakfast being laid out somewhere in the suite.The bed was unoccupied.She slid up from under the sheet, languidly, and let it slide down around her waist. Small spots erupted along the creases of her hips and thighs where Valerio's harsh hold had taken her the night before, a map of his own hunger etche
Valerio never left Sera's side.Not even for an instant.After the attack, he was a quiet ghost haunting her around the suite—observing, guarding, *staking* her out with his presence. It was dominating, yes. Smothering, certainly. But Sera realized it now.He wasn't trying to imprison her.He was trying to keep her alive.Breathing.His.The hours blurred. Sera hugged him on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, while Valerio made call after call in a language she didn't understand. His voice was suave, deadly. She heard snippets like *cleanup*, *loyalty check*, and *blood for blood*.Her stomach twisted.This wasn't over.It was only just beginning.Finally, Valerio ended the calls and approached her, pulling her into his lap as if she were fragile. As if she would shatter if he wasn't careful. He didn't speak. Didn't wonder if she was okay.He just held her.Long minutes went by between them.Finally, Sera leaned back far enough to study him.Valerio's face was set, unyielding. His
Sera awoke alone.The sheets were still warm, a residual echo of Valerio's body heat enveloping her, but he was gone.Panic stabbed her in the chest before she could reason it out.She pulled on one of his shirts—huge on her petite frame—and padded barefoot through the penthouse. The windows showed her a gray morning beyond, all mist and steel, which was appropriate to the heavy tension coiling through her stomach.She found him in the kitchen.Still shirtless, still lethal-looking, pacing as a low, angry conversation crackled through his phone."No, I don't care what he offers," Valerio growled into the phone. "If he hurts her, if he so much as *looks* at her, I'll bury him with the rest of them."A pause, and then he snapped, "Find out who else was involved. Every name. Every debt."He didn't wait for a response before he hung up.When he turned and saw her there—bare legs showing beneath his shirt, sleepy and worried—his face eased infinitesimally."You should be asleep," he growle
Rain fell outside Valerio's penthouse, pounding the sidewalk with a monotonous, muffled drum.Within, all was quiet.Sera huddled on the couch, wrapping Valerio's sweatshirt around her, still automatically spinning the ring on her finger, its edges slippery with dried blood. She still gazed in the direction of the corridor that Valerio had led his brother Luca an hour before.He'd said he'd discuss with them after he inspected Luca's injuries. Said he'd decide on their next course of action.But the silence stretched on.Thickening.Like a collective hold of breath by the entire world.Sera's nerves unraveled by the second.Then, she finally heard footsteps—two pairs of them—descending the hallway.She remained still as they walked into the living room.Valerio led the way, his arm wrapped tightly around a man who was his mirror image. Dark hair, darker eyes, same fierce beauty — but where Valerio was all hard lines, Luca seemed to have been battered and roughhewn.He was leaner, brui
The air in the morning was wet with mist and the smell of rain on stone.Sera leaned against the penthouse balcony railing, wrapped in a heavy sweater Valerio had tossed over her bare shoulders before he disappeared to take a call. His warmth still clung to the fabric, calming the nervous thrum in her chest.She placed a hand across her stomach, feeling the barest quiver there.She was going to be *his wife.*God, it didn't even feel real.Somewhere deep inside, the girl she used to be—the one who lived on the quiet, kept her head down, played by the rules—shrieked in anger that this was insane. Panicked.But that girl wasn't hers anymore.Sera had been broken.Remade.And she was doing this.Doing *him*.Even if it meant entering a realm of darkness, a life balanced upon the blade of a knife.Particularly due to that.Valerio did not love in halves. He consumed, devoured, guarded with a fierceness that scared and exhilarated her in equal measure.She wanted it.Wanted *him*.There we
Sera leaned against the big penthouse window of Valerio, her loosely closed knuckles wrapped around a pot of cold, untouched coffee. Eros City pulsed outside, neon signs casting desperate shadows against the night, but her focus was not on the world outside. She listened.She had learned to read the changes in the atmosphere by this point. The pinched tension that clamped the room when Valerio was angry. The crafted silence he bore when something was wrong.Tonight, he bore both of them.She heard the front door close with a softness too soft for a man like Valerio, and that said it all. The storm raged inward—more deadly than yelling and flying fists.He entered the room, dark eyes sweeping to her like a magnet to steel. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, revealing the angry clench of muscle in his neck. The air around him hummed with cold fury, and Sera could sense it like static on her skin."Everything okay?" she whispered.He didn't answer right away. He walked past he
The estate chapel smelled of damp stone and hidden secrets. Sparkling dust dotted the beams of light that passed through stained glass, casting crimson and indigo shadows on the chill floor. Sera watched beside Valerio at the altar as Dario shoved aside a concealed panel at the rear of an antique crucifix.A faint groan burst forth from the concealed vault as it creaked open."Your mother hid things in this house she didn't trust the family with," Dario whispered, pulling out a worn, leather-bound box. "She had no idea Lucrezia had spies within her inner circle."Valerio took the box cautiously, his teeth gritted. The seal on the cover—his mother's monogram—was unbroken, but broken. There were documents, files, and an ancient black flash drive, swathed in silk."She knew," he whispered, his voice low. "She always knew something was about to happen."Sera touched a light hand on his arm, bringing him back.They retreated to the main house and barricaded the doors. Valerio ordered Dario
The chapel smelled of wax and dust, an odd mix of religion and decay. Moonlight filtered through the broken stained glass, shattering colors on Valerio's face as he opened the hidden compartment beneath the altar.Sera knelt next to him, holding the light in place. Her fingers brushed his as he bent down, grasping a dented metal lockbox covered in soot and decades."This is it?" she whispered.Valerio nodded, his expression fixed in a grim line. "If Dario told the truth.".He opened the box. Yellowed documents, vintage photographs, and a set of cassette tapes were in the folds of a velvet cloth. He took one out, his gloved hand trembling slightly. Printed on the label: *Lucrezia – 2007*.Sera edged forward, her heart pounding. "Is that. your mother's year of passing?"Valerio did not say a word. He stood, carrying the box to the small office behind the confessional. Dust swirled in the shaft of light as he pulled out the old player Dario had stashed away for them in advance. The tape
The night air was crisp with a biting edge as Valerio rested against the balcony of the Verona compound, the city lights below him a blur of gold and shadow. His fingers curled around the wrought-iron railing, his shoulders knotting with tension. Footsteps whispered softly against marble behind him—Sera."You disappeared again," she said, her voice lightly marked with concern.He didn't turn. "I needed air."She walked beside him, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, chin settling into the hollow between his shoulder blades. "You're not alone now. You don't have to keep holding this by yourself."Valerio closed his eyes. "I know. But every secret we uncover… it wears away everything I was certain of."Sera moved beside him, her hand brushing his. "That's how we build something new. From the ashes."He turned, holding her face. "Promise me something."She gazed up at him, unwavering. "Anything.""If I fall too far into this darkness, pull me back. Even if I fight you. Even if I
Betrayal never came easily to the Romanos. And silence on the part of Valerio in the days following the assault was an omen for war.Sera sat on the edge of the large desk in Valerio's office, watching him as he stared at the wall of screens with that unnerving serenity she was becoming all too used to. He'd only uttered a few words since Dario's betrayal. Since they'd buried three men and escaped with their lives."Are you going to talk to me?" she asked quietly.Valerio did not turn. "There's nothing left to say. We move. We strike.""You think I don't want that too?" Sera shoved off the desk, bridging the space between them. "But you can't shut down like this. Not with everything coming."He turned to her finally, and the heaviness in his eyes was something darker than anger. It was grief, it was guilt—the silent hurt of a man unraveling."Every time I let one in, I bury them. My mother first. Then my men. Dario was the last piece of family I had left."Sera's hand rose and touched
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