Chapter three: Forced into his world

The private jet engines roared as we took off from the London airstrip. I sat across from Luciano, still in my torn red gown, arms crossed tight over my chest.

“You can’t just kidnap me, and then take me to  Milan,” I said, glaring at him. “My family will be looking for me. They know you took me hostage.”

Luciano leaned back in the leather seat, loosening his tie with one hand. “Good. Let them think whatever they want. Right now your family and mine are probably pointing guns at each other because of what you did on stage.”

“I did what needed to be done.” I leaned forward. “Your people killed my mother. Don’t sit there acting like you’re the victim.”

He stared at me for a long moment, eyes hard. “You keep saying that. Who told you? Your father? Did he show you proof or just feed you the same old story we’ve heard since we were kids?”

“Don’t talk about my father.” My voice rose. “He buried her. He had to look at her body after your family’s bullets tore through her.”

Luciano rubbed his face, exhausted. “And while you were busy exposing me, a senator died. My men died. Your people probably lost men too. Hope it was worth it?”

The plane hit some turbulence. I gripped the armrest. “That wasn’t meant to… It was supposed to be clean. Documents only. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

“Well someone made sure a lot of people got hurt.” He stood up and walked to the small bar, poured two glasses of whiskey. He set one in front of me. “Drink. You look like you’re about to fall apart.”

I ignored the glass. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Suit yourself.” He took a long sip and sat down again. “We’re landing in Milan soon. My safehouse is secure. You’ll stay there until we get answers about this Swan person.”

I laughed, sharp and angry. “You really expect me to hide in your house like some scared little girl? I came to destroy you, Luciano. Not hide behind you.”

He set the glass down hard. “You already destroyed half my reputation tonight. Congratulations. Now we’re both bleeding because of it. Unless you want the next attack to finish what they started, you’ll work with me.”

“Work with you?” I stood up too, pacing the narrow cabin. “I hate everything you stand for. The Volkov name makes me sick.”

Luciano rose slowly, stepping close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. “Feeling’s mutual, Seraphina. But right now someone smarter than both of us is playing games. They knew your plan, then they used it to their advantage.”

I swallowed. The plane shook again. “You think?”

“Obviously, they were waiting for you to make your stupid move.” His voice dropped lower. “And then they enjoyed watching you do it.”

We stayed like that, staring each other down. The air felt thick between us. I could still feel where his hands had grabbed me back in London, strong and urgent.

The pilot’s voice came over the speakers. “Preparing for landing in Milan, Mr. Volkov”

I sat back down, heart racing. “Fine. One night. We share what we know, then I contact my family and we go our separate ways.”

Luciano gave a short laugh. “You still don’t get it. There are no separate ways anymore.”

The jet touched down smoothly. Two black cars waited on the tarmac. Luciano’s men surrounded us as we moved from the plane to the car. No one spoke much during the drive through Milan. I watched the city lights blur past, my ruined dress sticking to my skin.

We finally pulled up to a sleek modern building hidden behind high walls. Inside, the safehouse was all cold marble and dark furniture. Minimal. Expensive. Exactly what I’d expect from him.

Luciano locked the door behind us and immediately turned on the large TV in the living room.

The news was already everywhere.

“…The senator George Benson was assassinated during what was supposed to be a peace gala between the DeLorenzo and Volkov families. Early reports suggest both powerful crime dynasties may be responsible…”

He immediately switched the tv off.

I sank onto the couch, staring at the screen. Photos of the chaos flashed. My face. His face. Headlines screaming about war.

“Look at what you started,” Luciano said quietly, standing behind me. “The whole world thinks we blew up our own peace meeting.”

I turned to face him. “I didn’t shoot anyone. I didn’t plant bombs.”

“No. But you lit the match.” He stepped closer. “And now the fire is going to consume everything. Including us.”

My hands shook as I stood up. “Then help me put it out.”

He watched me for a long moment. He didn’t say anything.

I wanted to scream at him. Instead I nodded once, tight and reluctant. “I have a rule. No more touching me. No more pinning me in cars.”

Luciano’s mouth curved slightly. “Afraid you might like it?”

“Go to hell.”

He walked toward the hallway. “The bedroom is on the right. Try to get some rest. We start digging at first light.”

I stayed in the living room after he left, staring at the news. My perfect plan had turned into a nightmare. And the man I hated most was now the only person standing between me and whoever this Swan really was.

My phone buzzed on the table. An unknown number.

I picked it up with shaking fingers and opened the message.

Nice show tonight, Seraphina.

I dropped the phone like it burned me.

“Luciano!” I called out, voice louder than I meant.

He appeared in the hallway instantly, gun already in his hand. “What happened?”

I pointed at the phone. “They’re texting me. I think they know who I am.”

“Well, no kidding, it was your event they used, how the hell won’t they know who you are, crazy.”

He picked up the phone and read the message. His face went stone cold.

Then the power in the entire safehouse flickered once.

Twice.

He looked around.

“Get down!” he shouted, rushing toward me.

The first gunshot shattered the front window.