Seraphina's POV
I'm perched at this sleek glass table in the Vitale penthouse, clutching my wine glass like it's my only friend. The room's all sharp angles, steel walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, city lights twinkling way down below like they're mocking me. It's nothing like the Calabrese estate, where everything's heavy, old, and dripping with secrets. This place is cold, sterile, like it's trying to be Luca. He's sprawled across from me, tie loose, green eyes glinting with that smug smirk of his, like he's got some ace up his sleeve.
"Fits you," I say, keeping my tone breezy, even though my nerves are shot. "All flash, no soul."
Luca lets out this low laugh that hits me right in the gut, and I hate how it makes me squirm. "Watch it, Seraphina. You're part of the decor now, babe."
Natalia, his sister, is parked at the far end of the table, red hair glowing like a stoplight under the chandelier. She's poking at some fancy fish thing, hell if I know what it is, and eyeing us like we're her evening entertainment. "Y'all are already bickering like you've been hitched for decades," she says, her voice sharp but with a teasing edge.
I shoot her a look, forcing a grin. "It's been, what, twenty-four hours, Natalia? Give us a minute to warm up."
Dante's next to me, arms crossed, grey eyes dark like storm clouds. He's barely touched his food, and I can feel the tension rolling off him. "Warm up for what?" he mutters, voice low. "For him to stab us in the back?"
"Dante," I hiss, nudging his knee under the table. He's gonna blow this. The table's packed with Vitale folks, Luca's mom, Sofia, a couple of cousins, and this guy Rocco with a nasty scar across his cheek. They're all watching, waiting for us to slip so they can pounce.
Luca raises his glass, all smooth and polished. "To new beginnings," he says, voice like velvet. "And to my gorgeous wife, who's already got me on my toes."
Everyone drinks, but it feels like a trap. I sip my wine, plastering on a smile while my heart's doing sprints. I don't trust Luca, not after that weird nod he gave that guy at the wedding. I've gotta figure out what he's hiding before it bites me.
Dinner drags on, and I'm so over playing nice. Sofia's droning about some business deal, her voice cold enough to freeze the room. I'm zoning out when Isla, Luca's assistant, slips in with a tray of coffee. Curly brown hair, glasses, moving like she's trying to blend into the wallpaper. But I clock her. She's too quiet, too careful, like she's got something to hide.
"Coffee, Mrs. Vitale?" Isla asks, offering me a cup.
Our fingers brush as I take it, and her eyes hit mine for a split second, sharp, like she's sizing me up. "Thanks," I say, keeping it cool, but my skin's prickling.
She nods and moves to Luca, but I catch her scanning the room, eyes darting from face to face. She's not just serving coffee, that's for damn sure. Something about her screams trouble, and I don't like it.
Luca grabs his coffee and leans in, voice low. "You're quiet, Seraphina. Already plotting how to take me out?"
I laugh, 'cause I've gotta play along. "Nah, not yet. Gotta find a lawyer who's worth a damn first."
He grins, and it's almost convincing. "Smart move. Always have a backup plan."
I tilt my head, pushing a little. "What's your plan, Luca? Marry me, play the doting husband, then what's the endgame?"
His grin doesn't budge, but his eyes go hard, like steel. "Stick around, Seraphina. I'm full of surprises."
Natalia snorts from her end of the table. "Understatement of the century."
Dante's chair scrapes loud as he bolts up. "I need air," he growls, voice rough like gravel. He storms toward the balcony, and every head turns to watch. Sofia raises an eyebrow but keeps her mouth shut.
I stand too, quick. "I'll handle him," I say, before anyone can argue.
The balcony's massive, all glass railings and city noise humming far below. Dante's leaning hard against the edge, hands gripping the railing like he's trying to crush it. The wind messes up his dark hair, and his tattoos pop under the moonlight.
"You good?" I ask, stepping up beside him.
He doesn't even glance my way. "This place gives me the creeps, Sera. All their fake-ass smiles. Luca's the worst of 'em."
I sigh, leaning on the railing next to him. "I get it. But we're stuck here for now. Gotta play the game."
He turns, grey eyes blazing. "You don't see it, do you? He's playing you. I saw him at the wedding, giving some guy a look like they had a deal."
My stomach lurches. He saw the silver-haired guy too. "What guy?" I ask, keeping my voice steady, like it's no big deal.
Dante shrugs, but his jaw's tight. "Didn't know him. Older, fancy suit, silver in his hair. Luca looked at him like he was waiting for a green light."
I nod, tucking that away. "I'll figure it out, Dante. Just don't go nuclear, okay?"
He snorts, bitter. "Bit late for that."
I grab his arm, firm. "I'm dead serious. We're in their house now. We play smart, not loud."
He looks at me, and for a second, his face softens. "Fine. For you."
We stand there, the city buzzing below, and I want to spill everything, how I'm scared, how I don't know if I can pull this off. But I can't. Not when Dante's already a lit fuse.
Back inside, the dinner's winding down. Sofia's bailed for bed, and the cousins are cackling over whiskey. Luca's talking to Rocco, but he stops when I walk in. "Your cousin okay?" he asks, all casual, but his eyes are sharp, like he's fishing.
"He's fine," I say, sliding back into my, nope, just needed some air."
Luca nods, but I know he's not buying it. Isla's still here, clearing plates, moving like a ghost. I catch her glancing at Luca, then me, and my gut twists. She's listening, I'd bet my life on it. Who the hell is she, really?
Natalia stands, stretching like she's bored. "I'm done," she says. "This party's a snooze." She throws me a wink, but it's not friendly, it's a warning, like, Keep your eyes open.
I watch her saunter off, red hair vanishing down the hall. Luca leans in close. "Don't sweat Natalia. She's all talk."
"And you?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging. "What's your deal?"
He laughs, his hand brushing mine on the table, just a quick touch, but it sends a jolt through me. "Hang around, Seraphina. You'll see what I'm about."
I pull my hand back, heart hammering. He's too good at this, making me want to trust him. But I don't. Not for a second.
Later, the penthouse is dead quiet. Luca shows me to our bedroom, this massive space with a glass wall and a bed that's way too big, all white silk and pillows. It hits me hard, this is real. I'm his wife now.
"I'll crash on the couch," Luca says, snagging a pillow. "You take the bed."
I blink, thrown. "For real?"
He shrugs, flashing a crooked smile. "I'm not a total jerk. Not tonight, anyway."
I nod, not sure what to say. He dips into the bathroom, and I change into a nightgown, hands shaky. I'm alone for the first time all day, and it sinks in, I'm deep in enemy territory. Luca's charming, sure, but he's hiding something. That guy at the wedding, Isla's sneaky vibe, Natalia's edged looks, it's all tied together, and I need to crack it.
I hear Luca come back, moving soft like a cat. I'm under the covers, faking sleep, eyes shut tight. There's a faint click, like a drawer opening. I crack one eye, just enough to see him at a desk in the corner, holding a small envelope with a red wax seal. My heart stops, it's got the Calabrese crest, my family's mark.
He glances at the bed, checking if I'm out. Then he tucks the envelope in the drawer, locks it with a key, and slips away. My pulse is pounding. Why's he got something from my family? What's he plotting?
I shut my eyes, mind racing. Luca's not just slick, he's dangerous. And I'm gonna find out why.