Rose's POV
The night sky over Manhattan bled hues of gold and charcoal as Luca led me up the private elevator to the rooftop of one of his clubs—The Obsidian Tower.
Soft violin music echoed in the air.
The moment the doors slid open, my breath caught.
Candlelights lined the rooftop like fallen stars. The skyline shimmered behind him, and petals of red roses were strewn across the marble floor. At the center—a table for two. Champagne chilled in a silver bucket. The city buzzed beneath us, but up here, it was just Luca and me.
"Luca, what is this?" I whispered, my voice caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
He turned to me, those sea-storm eyes burning into mine. "Something overdue."
He pulled me gently to the center, then dropped to one knee.
"I don't believe in perfect people, Rose," he began, voice thick. "But I believe in war-torn hearts that find their home in each other. You were never part of the plan. You ruined the plan. And I'd choose that ruin again... a thousand times over."
He opened the velvet box. A sapphire ring, cut like flame, glinted against the moonlight.
"Be my chaos. Be my queen. Marry me."
Tears blurred my sight. The world spun slower.
"Yes, Luca. Yes."
He stood, slipped the ring onto my finger, then kissed me—softly at first, then like a man starved for years.
And that night…
We made love like we were made of flame and thunder.
---
Luca's POV
I undressed her slowly.
No rush. No madness. Just reverence. Like unwrapping a gift I'd waited my whole damn life for.
Her skin glowed under the low lights, soft and golden. Her breaths came in whispers—quivering, delicate, needful.
I kissed down her collarbone, tasted her shivers, and when I finally entered her, it wasn't just our bodies that connected.
It was our pain. Our past. Our promises.
She arched beneath me, breathless. I whispered her name like a vow, and she held me like I was something worth saving.
This was our third time—but it felt like the first time we both surrendered without fear.
"I love you, Rose," I said, lips br
ushing her ear.
And she believed me.
She should've.
The golden lights of the penthouse shimmered like stars, casting soft glows over the marble floor. Rose's laughter echoed gently from the bathroom as she playfully sang a tune. Steam clouded the mirror as warm water splashed over her bare skin
He thought he had found home.
But fate had cruel plans.
Suddenly, Rose's phone rang on the bed. Luca reached out, intending to take it to her — but stopped.
His eyes froze on the caller ID.
MOGA.
With a profile picture of her face — bold, piercing eyes and that unmistakable red hair. The same Moga whose name had haunted his nightmares for years.
The color drained from his face. His heart lurched.
His mind raced — the LMD Suite. The one location Rose's tracker kept showing recently. The same place where he had first seen her—posing as a prostitute. A virgin then, or so she claimed. Now it all began to connect in his mind like shattered glass forming an ugly picture.
Moga... LMD... the tracker... was it all a setup?
Was Rose sent into his life as a trap?
Luca's chest tightened. His jaw clenched. But he masked it all behind a calm smile when she stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.
He kissed her forehead and said nothing.
That night, he didn't sleep.
Instead, he deployed one of his best spies.
"Track her. Follow her movements. Bring me everything," Luca ordered.
Two days later, Rose stepped out to visit moga and to tell her about the proposal. Luca didn't stop her. He watched her leave and looked away.
Hours later, the spy returned and dropped an envelope on his table.
"This is it, boss."
Inside were several photos.
Rose. Sitting across Moga. Laughing. Smiling. Touching her hand.
Luca's hands shook as he looked at the images. He didn't know when he stood up and smashed the liquor glass across the wall.
"Betrayers!!"
"I should've known. I should've known better than to believe I could be loved," he growled, his voice hoarse with grief.
He clenched his fists and punched the wall, leaving a dent.
"No one plays me. Not after everything I've survived. "
He turned his heart off that moment — flipping a switch that he thought had been long destroyed.
---
A Few Hours Later...
The house was eerily quiet.
Rose stepped inside, her heart sinking. She could sense the coldness in the air.
"Babe?" she called out gently.
Luca stepped out of the shadows.
His face — unreadable. His eyes — bloodshot. He looked like death had kissed his soul and sucked it dry.
Rose's breath caught in her throat. Something was off. This wasn't the Luca she loved. This was someone else — someone darker, colder, terrifying.
"Since when did you become so good at acting, Rose?" he asked, his voice low but sharp like broken glass.
"W-what?"
"You know Moga, right?"
Rose blinked in confusion. "She's... my friend. Luca, what's—"
"SHUT UP!"
His voice thundered. Rose stepped back.
Luca stepped forward, slamming a folder on the table. The photos spilled out.
"You think I'm stupid? You thought you could fool me into loving you while you sit and sip drinks with my enemy?!"
"Enemy? Moga? I-I didn't know—"
He slapped her across the face. Rose collapsed, her lip bursting open. Blood stained her chin.
"LUCA!!" she screamed in pain.
Tears filled her eyes. "What has come over you?! Why are you doing this?! I swear, I didn't know—"
He yanked her by the hair and threw her against the wall.
"You think I'd ever spare a traitor? You think your pretty little lies will save you now?"
"I love you! I don't know what this is about, but Moga never told me anything! I never knew she was your enemy—" she sobbed, coughing blood.
But Luca's heart had been poisoned. The thought of betrayal clouded his every judgment.
"I don't want to see your face again. Ever. You're lucky I'm letting you walk out alive." His voice cracked at the end, but he turned his back.
Rose crawled away, grabbing her bag, her heart shattering more than her bones.
------
Rose's POV
The cold air hit me like a slap. My vision blurred. My heart shattered.
Luca had beaten me.
The man who said he loved me.
And the worst part? I still loved him.
Blood ran down my chin. I couldn't breathe. The pain was deeper than the bruises.
I ran down the road like a ghost—barefoot, messy, destroyed.
Then—
A black car screeched to a stop in front of me.
Three men jumped out. Before I could scream—. One clamped a hand over my mouth while another jammed a syringe into my neck. My world spun. I fought, clawed, whimpered... and then everything went dark.
They grabbed me.
Dragged me inside.
The car sped off.
My necklace—the only lifeline—lay forgotten in the street, glinting like a broken promise.
Inside it, the tracker blinked quietly.
---
Will Luca realize the truth before it's too late? Or has he already handed Rose over to the devil himself?