The Rossi villa blazed with firelight, a storm of music, laughter, and politics. Tonight was no ordinary gathering—it was a display of power. Don Enzo had called allies, merchants, and politicians into his gilded hall to remind Naples that the Rossi name still carried weight. Adriana moved through the throng like a phantom, her emerald gown trailing across marble tiles. Men bowed politely, women smiled thinly, but none of it touched her. Her eyes skimmed over jeweled chandeliers, the sea of masks and wine, searching for escape. She hated these nights—the false laughter, the heavy perfume of lies. And then, as she reached for a glass of wine from a passing tray, her pulse stopped. Because across the hall, through a break in the crowd, she saw him. Damian Moretti. Her fingers tightened around the stem of the glass until it nearly shattered. He should not have been here—not in her father’s home, not in this nest of vipers. Yet there he stood, perfectly at ease in his tailored black
Last Updated : 2025-11-15 Read more