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Chapter 1 - When The Devil Walks In

The devil wore a thousand-dollar suit and walked into my father's charity gala like he owned the place. Hell, maybe he did.

I literally choked on my champagne when I saw Alessandro De Luca stride through those ballroom doors. Five years. Five whole years since I'd seen that face, and my stupid heart still did this weird skippy thing like I was eighteen again.

God, I hated myself for that.

"Val? Earth to Valentina?" My best friend Maria waved her hand in front of my face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse," I whispered, gripping my champagne flute so tight I was surprised it didn't shatter. "Much worse."

I didn't need to point him out. Maria followed my stare and her face went white. She'd been there that night. The night I made the biggest fool of myself in Romano family history.

"Oh shit," she breathed. "What's he doing here?"

That was the million-dollar question. Alessandro De Luca didn't just show up places. Not anymore. Not since he became head of his family six months ago when his father died. And definitely not at Romano family events. Our families had been doing this weird dance around each other for years – not quite enemies, but sure as hell not friends.

I watched him work the room like the predator he was. Men twice his age practically bowed when he spoke to them. Women batted their eyelashes and leaned in close, hoping to catch his attention. The whole scene made me want to puke.

He looked... different. Older, obviously. Harder. The boyish charm that used to make my teenage heart flutter was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. His black hair was perfectly styled, his olive skin looked like he'd been carved from marble, and those dark eyes... Jesus, those eyes could still make me forget how to breathe.

"We should leave," Maria said, already tugging on my arm. "Like, right now. Before he sees you."

"No." The word came out harsher than I meant it to. "I'm not running away from him again. I did that once, and I'm not doing it again."

Because that's what I'd done five years ago. After he crushed my heart into a million pieces in front of both our families, I'd run. Locked myself in my room for three days, crying like the pathetic teenager I was. Then I'd spent the next five years rebuilding myself, making sure I'd never be that vulnerable again.

I was twenty-three now. A grown woman. The daughter of a mafia don who'd been raised to handle anything life threw at her. I wasn't about to let some ancient history ruin my night.

Except then his eyes found mine across the crowded room, and suddenly I was eighteen again, standing in his family's living room with my heart on my sleeve and hope in my stupid, naive eyes.

The bastard actually smiled. Not a nice smile – a predator's smile. The kind that said he remembered exactly what had happened between us and found it amusing.

I lifted my chin and stared right back at him. Two could play this game.

"Val, seriously, your face is doing that scary thing it does when you're about to do something stupid," Maria whispered.

"I'm fine." I wasn't fine. I was the opposite of fine. But I'd rather die than let Alessandro De Luca see me sweat.

He raised his whiskey glass in my direction like he was toasting me. The arrogant ass.

I turned my back on him and focused on Maria. "Tell me about that new guy you're dating. The one with the motorcycle."

"Valentina." My father's voice cut through our conversation like a knife. I turned to find him walking toward us, and something in his expression made my stomach drop. Papa looked... scared. Which was impossible because Marco Romano didn't get scared. Ever.

"Papa? What's wrong?"

"Your mother needs you. Right now." His voice was tight, controlled. The voice he used when something had gone very, very wrong.

I glanced around, looking for Mama, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?"

"My study. Come. Now."

The way he said it made my blood run cold. Papa only used his study for family business. The kind of business that normal people pretended didn't exist.

"I'll catch up with you later," I told Maria, squeezing her hand. She looked worried, but she knew better than to ask questions when it came to family stuff.

I followed Papa through the crowd, my heels clicking on the marble floor. People moved out of our way automatically – they always did. Being a Romano meant something in this city, and people respected that. Or feared it. Same difference, really.

But instead of going to find Mama, Papa led me straight to his study. The heavy wooden door was already closed, which meant whatever was waiting for me inside was serious. Papa never closed the study door unless blood had been spilled or was about to be.

My heart started beating faster as he opened the door and gestured for me to go inside first.

The study was supposed to be empty except for Mama. Instead, I found myself face-to-face with Alessandro De Luca and two men I recognized as his top guys.

No Mama in sight.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, spinning to face my father.

Papa closed the door behind us with a click that sounded way too final. "Sit down, Valentina."

"I don't want to sit down. I want to know why—"

"Your father killed one of my men tonight." Alessandro's voice cut through my protests like broken glass. He was standing by the window, his broad shoulders blocking out the city lights behind him. "Shot him in the head over some business dispute."

The world tilted sideways. "That's not possible. Papa wouldn't—"

"I did." Papa's admission hit me like a physical blow. "It was an accident, but Tomasso is dead just the same."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. Papa had killed someone. Tonight. While I was out there sipping champagne and worrying about stupid things like seeing my ex-crush.

"So what happens now?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I didn't want to know the answer.

Alessandro turned from the window, and the look in his eyes made my skin crawl. "Now, your family pays the price for spilling De Luca blood."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small and very vulnerable.

"What kind of price?" Papa asked quietly.

Alessandro's smile was all teeth and no warmth. "The kind that ensures this never happens again. A permanent alliance between our families."

I didn't like where this was going. Not one bit.

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, though part of me already knew.

"Marriage." The word fell between us like a bomb. "Your daughter's hand in exchange for my forgiveness. It's the only way to prevent a war that would destroy both our families."

The room started spinning. Marriage. To Alessandro. The man who had humiliated me five years ago in front of everyone I cared about.

"No." The word came out as barely a whisper. "No, I won't do it."

Alessandro moved toward me with that predatory grace he'd always had. He stopped just close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne – the same scent that used to make me weak in the knees when I was eighteen.

"You don't really have a choice, cara," he said softly. "Unless you'd prefer I take my payment in blood instead."

The threat was clear. Agree to marry him, or watch my family burn.

"How long do we have to decide?" Papa asked.

"Until midnight." Alessandro checked his watch like he was talking about dinner plans instead of my entire future. "After that, the offer expires and things get... unpleasant."

He started walking toward the door, but stopped when he reached me. For a moment, we just stared at each other, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. Something that looked almost like regret.

Then it was gone, replaced by that cold, calculating look I was starting to hate.

"Oh, and Valentina?" He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle but somehow threatening. "Wear red tomorrow. For the engagement announcement. You always looked beautiful in red."

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone with my father and the wreckage of my life.

"Papa," I whispered, "please tell me there's another way."

But the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. There was no other way. There was only Alessandro De Luca and whatever game he was playing.

And somehow, I was the prize.

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