All Chapters of Engaged to the Devil, Loved by His Shadow : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

123 Chapters

Chapter 1-Serafina’s POV

The first gunshot echoed through the marble hall like a verdict.I didn’t flinch.I learned long ago that flinching only amused men like him.The man on his knees collapsed forward, blood blooming across the polished floor. His body twitched once, then stilled. The smell of iron rose, thick and choking, curling into my lungs.“Clean it,” my fiancé said calmly, lowering the gun. His voice didn’t change. It never did. The men moved immediately, dragging the corpse away as if it were trash. Someone wiped the blood before it could stain the rug imported from Italy. Everything in this house was expensive. Even death had rules, I stood beside him, hands folded neatly in front of me, spine straight, chin lifted perfectly.That was my role.Luca De Santis turned his head slightly, just enough to look at me. His dark eyes skimmed over my white dress, my bare arms, the diamond ring on my finger. Possession, not affection, flickered in his gaze.“You’re quiet tonight,” he said. I forced my lips i

Chapter 2-Serafina’s POV

The footsteps lingered outside my door.Not moving nor retreating, just waiting.My fingers tightened around my phone until my knuckles burned. The screen was dark now, lifeless, as if it hadn’t just threatened the only person in this house who made breathing easier. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I counted heartbeats the way I’d learned to count bullets: quick, silent, necessary.One.Two.Three.A shadow passed beneath the thin strip of light at the base of the door.Then another.Someone cleared their throat. “Serafina.”Luca’s voice slid through the wood,smooth and unhurried.I closed my eyes and of course it was him. I slipped the phone into my palm and forced my expression into place before unlocking the door. When I opened it, Luca stood there alone, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, dark hair immaculate as ever. No blood on him. No sign that he’d pulled the trigger an hour ago.That was always the most disturbing part. He didn’t look like death. He looked like control.“You

Chapter 3-Serafina's POV

Luca didn’t take me upstairs. That alone told me something was wrong. He led me through the east wing instead, past rooms I was never invited into. Offices where men whispered and plans were made, doors that stayed locked even to me. His grip on my hand was firm but casual, as if we were simply a devoted couple taking a morning stroll.I knew better.The deeper we walked, the colder the air became. The walls changed tooless decoration, more stone. Less beauty, more purpose.“Where are we going?” I asked carefully.“You’ll see,” Luca replied. His thumb brushed my knuckles, a mockery of tenderness. “I want you to understand the family you’re marrying into.”My stomach tightened. We stopped outside a heavy wooden door guarded by two men. They straightened immediately when Luca approached. One of them opened the door without being told.Inside was a room I’d never seen. It wasn’t lavish like the rest of the house. No art. No rugs. Just a long table, metal chairs, and a single window high

Chapter 4-Serafina’s POV

The phone burned against my thigh like a brand. I didn’t reach for it. Not yet.I kept my face composed, my posture perfect, my smile soft enough to pass for devotion as Luca guided me through the ballroom. Laughter rippled around us. Glasses clinked. The orchestra resumed as if no one had just been offered up as a sacrifice.This was how the De Santis empire functioned.Blood beneath silk Terror beneath music.Around us, the guests smiled too easily. Laughter came half a second too late, eyes flicking toward Luca before every reaction, every breath measured. This wasn’t a celebration. It was a performance and everyone here knew the cost of forgetting their lines. I felt it in the way servants kept their heads bowed, in the way no one spoke above the music unless Luca allowed it. Luca’s hand remained at my lower back, warm and possessive, steering me toward the head table. I felt Matteo’s presence across the room like a wound I refused to touch. I didn’t look at him. Looking would be

Chapter 5-Serafina's POV

The first bullet shattered the chandelier.Crystal rained down like knives as guests screamed and scattered. I dragged the maid behind me, heels slipping on polished marble now slick with spilled wine and panic. The orchestra vanished into chaos. Men shouted orders in Italian. Somewhere behind us, Luca roared my name.“Left,” Matteo barked. He slammed a guard into the wall, seized the man’s gun, and fired without breaking stride. The shot echoed through the corridor, sharp and final. I didn’t look back. We burst through a service door into a narrow passage lit by flickering fluorescents. The maid sobbed, struggling to keep up.“Keep moving,” I said, breath tearing out of me. “Don’t stop.”Gunfire followed.Not warning shots.Kill shots.Matteo shoved us ahead of him, taking the rear, firing backward with terrifying precision. He didn’t hesitate. I didn't miss it. This wasn’t rebellion, this was survival“Where are we going?” I shouted.“The old wine tunnels,” he replied. “If they’re

Chapter 6-Serafina's POV

The fire followed us.Even as we ran, even as the night swallowed us whole, I could still feel the heat of the explosion licking at my spine, hear the echo of men screaming, smell burning fuel and scorched earth clinging to my lungs. The De Santis estate burned behind us like a wounded beast, roaring its fury into the sky.But Luca De Santis was not dead.I knew it the way you know when a storm hasn’t finished breaking when the air goes too still, too expectant.“Keep moving,” Matteo said, breath rough, blood soaking through the sleeve of his jacket. He staggered once but caught himself, jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack.We plunged deeper into the trees, branches tearing at my dress, thorns ripping silk and skin alike. Vittorio led the way, his pace relentless despite his age, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight like a man carved from strategy rather than flesh.Only when we reached the ravine did he signal us to stop.A narrow cut in the earth opened be

Chapter 7-Serafina’s POV

San Verità learned of my death at noon.The announcement came the way Luca De Santis did everything clean, controlled, impossible to argue with. Every screen in the city flickered at once. Cafés went quiet. Offices froze mid-motion. Guards straightened in the streets as his face filled the broadcast, sharp and untroubled, dressed in black like a man already in mourning.I stood in the shadows of a shuttered apartment three districts away, watching my own funeral begin.“Members of the De Santis family,” Luca said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority, “and our respected allies. It is with regret that I announce the passing of my fiancée, Serafina Moretti.”My name landed like a gunshot.Beside me, Matteo’s body went rigid.Luca continued smoothly. “A sudden illness. Unexpected. Tragic.” He paused just long enough for the word to sink in. “She died this morning.”The lie slid easily off his tongue.I pressed my fingers into my palm to keep from shaking. The screen showed h

CHAPTER 8-Serafina’s POV

The message came at dawn.No greeting. No threat. Just coordinates and a time.Come alone. Bring your shadow if you must.I stared at the phone, pulse steady for the first time in hours.“She knows about us,” Matteo said flatly.He stood by the window, gun already in hand, scanning the street below like it had personally offended him. We’d changed locations twice since Luca announced my death. Burned phones. New clothes. New routes. Survival had become ritual.“She’s always known,” I replied.Vittorio had disappeared before sunrise, leaving behind nothing but instructions and a warning: Don’t trust anyone who wants Luca dead more than you do.That narrowed the list to nearly everyone in San Verità.“She’s calling herself the Third Eye,” Matteo continued. “People don’t take that title unless they want to be feared.”“Or respected,” I said.He shot me a look. “You’re too calm about this.”I slipped the phone into my pocket. “Because she’s already saved my life once.”That earned me sile

Chapter 9-Serafina's POV

The safe house was never meant to last.I knew that the moment we arrived,ba narrow apartment above an abandoned tailoring shop, windows boarded from the inside, electricity pulled from a neighboring line. Temporary places always carried a particular smell. Dust. Cold metal. Fear that had learned how to wait.Matteo checked the locks for the third time while I stood at the sink, washing dried blood from my hands.Not mine.His.The water ran red, then clear. I turned it off and leaned back against the counter, pressing my palms into the chipped porcelain until the trembling stopped.“You’re bleeding again,” I said.“I’ll live.”“That’s not an answer.”He glanced over his shoulder. His jacket was off, his shirt half torn where the bullet had grazed his arm. The wound wasn’t deep, but it had bled enough to soak through the fabric. Enough to remind me how close death had come.“Sit,” I ordered.He hesitated.I raised my eyes. He obeyed.I opened the small first-aid kit Vittorio had left

Chapter 10-Serafina's POV

The message arrived at dawn.Not with a vibration.Not with a sound.It simply appeared on my screen, as if it had always been there waiting.Luca:You’re alive.The room felt smaller instantly.I sat up on the narrow bed in the safe house, breath shallow, phone heavy in my hand. Matteo was asleep on the floor beside the door, his back against the wall, gun within reach. He hadn’t slept properly since Alessia was taken. None of us had. Even unconscious, his body was coiled tight, ready to break apart at the slightest threat.I didn’t answer.Three dots appeared.Disappeared.Then another message.Luca:I told you I would find you.My pulse thudded so loud I was certain it would wake Matteo. I slid out of bed silently and crossed to the far corner of the room, pressing my back against the cold concrete wall.Me:If this is another threat, don’t waste your time.The reply came immediately.Luca:You mistake me, amore. This is an offer.An offer.From the man who had burned half his own

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