The don's voice echoed through the main hall, deep and firm.
"All workers—gather round!"
The kitchen clattered to a stop. Servants hurried from corners, wiping hands on aprons, murmuring softly to each other. Kyan came in last, hair still a little messy from rushing.
Don Luciano stood at the top of the stairs, looking proud and full of power.
"It's official," he said. "The wedding is confirmed. Our Luciano bloodline will merge with the Valentinos."
There were gasps, a few polite claps.
"You all will work twice as hard," the don continued, eyes sweeping the crowd. "This is going to be the grandest wedding in years."
And just beside him…
Nico.
Dressed in full black, hands folded in front of him, standing there like a goddamn prince from a luxury magazine.
His lips curled into the fakest sweet smile Kyan had ever seen.
He looked... happy.
Too happy.
Kyan stood frozen in the crowd, heart tight, stomach flipping. His hands clenched at his sides.
That smile.
He hated it.
