The Moretti mansion hummed with tension. Not the kind you hear but the kind you feel. Like the vibration of a live wire under your skin, or the click of a trigger just before the bullet flies.
Valentina stood by the marble fireplace in the cigar room one hand on her dagger, the other wrapped around a crystal tumbler of whiskey she had no intention of drinking.
Lupo hadn't followed her immediately.
But she felt him.
The echo of his gaze still clawed down her spine.
And then there he was. Silent, deadly, watching her from the doorway like a panther choosing the right moment to pounce.
"So," he murmured, voice low, dark. "Still armed?"
She smirked without turning. "You think I'd meet the devil unarmed?"
"I think you're the devil."
His footsteps were quiet, but she could feel him closing in.
"Tell me, Valentina" he said, "is this a game to you?"
She turned slowly to face him, keeping her expression cool. "What game?"
"This" He gestured between them. "The teasing. The threats. The way your lips tremble right before you lie."
"I don't lie."
He stepped closer. "Then tell me this isn't what you want."
She laughed once, dry. "Want? I want peace between our families. I want my father to stop sending men to die in your city. I want to wake up and not have to count bodies like sheep."
"That's not what I asked."
His voice was sharp now. A blade against her throat.
And she hated it hated how it thrilled her.
"Tell me you don't want me," he said again. "Say it."
Valentina stepped forward until they were chest to chest. His scent cedarwood and sin invaded her.
"I hate you," she whispered. "I hate everything you stand for."
"But do you want me?"
His hand came up not to touch her but to hover near her cheek, as if afraid one touch would break the world they were pretending still made sense.
She leaned in.
He leaned back.
"I'm not kissing you," she said with a bitter smile.
"You don't have to." He looked at her like he owned her soul. "You already did. With your eyes. With every breath."
She froze.
Because she knew he was right.
Her body screamed yes while her blood screamed traitor.
"Lupo," she whispered, "if we do this someone dies."
"Someone always dies," he said, and then
He kissed her.
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't sweet.
It was war.
His lips crashed into hers like the first shot in a battlefield raid raw, bruising, unapologetic. She fought him, hands on his chest, pushing but her fingers curled instead of resisting.
She kissed him back.
Like a Molotov cocktail to the heart.
Like a traitor in silk.
Like a woman who wanted to forget loyalty for a night.
Their mouths warred. Teeth, tongue, breathless heat. Her dagger clattered to the floor. His hands were at her waist, lifting her, pressing her back against the wall, stealing every ounce of self-control she had left.
And then
Bang!
The door burst open.
"Boss" a voice froze.
It was Alejandro.
Lupo's second-in-command.
The one with the hawk eyes and the dead man's silence.
He blinked once at the scene: Valentina, flushed and breathless. Lupo's hand tangled in her hair. Whiskey on the floor. A kiss that felt like a betrayal of bloodlines.
"Forgive me," Alejandro said, lips tight. "But the Rosas just made a move on our west shipment."
The silence that followed was not awkward.
It was deadly.
Lupo didn't look at Valentina. Not immediately. He stepped back slowly, his expression darkening like storm clouds gathering over a battlefield.
"You were a distraction," he said coldly. "Nothing more."
Valentina's heart cracked but she smiled anyway, venom sweet on her tongue.
"And you were a mistake."
The hallway was dim, lit only by the faint flicker of candlelight from a power outage intentional, no doubt. Every shadow seemed to whisper secrets, every step Valentina took was padded with silence and sin.
She shouldn't be here. Not barefoot. Not in this silk robe that clung to her curves like a second skin. And definitely not heading toward the one man who made her blood simmer like forbidden wine left too long to ferment.
Lorenzo Moretti leaned against the arched doorway at the far end of the hall, his arms folded, cigarette tucked between his lips, the cherry tip glowing like a warning flare. His eyes didn't move, but she knew they saw her. Felt her.
"Couldn't sleep, princesa?" he murmured without turning.
Valentina's breath caught. The sound of his voice rough, low, like a growl wrapped in velvet slid down her spine and curled around her ribs.
"Your brother's villa is a prison. Sleep is a luxury I don't get here."
Lorenzo let out a slow exhale of smoke, the kind that spelled danger and invitation in equal measure.
"Careful, Valentina. You talk like that, I might start believing you're not just a pawn in this bloody alliance."
She moved closer, drawn to him like a moth to fire. "You think I'm a pawn?"
He turned to face her fully now. "I think you're a pawn who wants to be the Queen. But queens don't get to break the rules unless they're ready to burn the board."
There was silence thick, electric, charged with something neither of them could name without setting off a war. Valentina stepped into his space anyway, her pulse thundering in her ears.
"Then burn it with me," she whispered.
Lorenzo froze.
The scent of her skin was roses soaked in wine, danger dressed as divinity. His jaw tensed, fingers twitching at his side like they were fighting against their own betrayal. She was the promised bride his brother's political pawn. The symbol of peace between blood-drenched dynasties.
And yet
When he finally grabbed her, it wasn't soft. It was fire and fury. He slammed her against the wall, but not hard enough to hurt just hard enough to remind her that she was about to be kissed by a man who destroyed things for a living.
Their mouths crashed together with violence and hunger. Her robe parted, a whisper of silk brushing against his calloused hands. Her fingers wove through his dark hair, nails scraping his scalp as she devoured him back with equal hunger.
This wasn't just lust.
It was war.
A war with no survivors.
When they finally tore apart, breathless, bruised from the ache of restraint, Lorenzo's voice was ragged.
"This kiss, it's the first bullet fired."
Valentina smiled, eyes wild. "Then let's aim to kill."