The Master's Daughter
Chapter One – The Party
The Romano mansion shimmered like a jewel against the night sky. Crystal chandeliers glowed through tall windows, spilling light onto marble floors polished to a mirror's shine. Guests moved gracefully in gowns and tuxedos, their laughter laced with champagne and secrets.
At the center of it all stood Isabella Romano. Twenty-two, elegant, her dark hair falling in waves against her shoulders, her smile as carefully practiced as the violinists' music. She wore her father's favorite gown—deep crimson silk that hugged her figure—because he had chosen it. Everything about her tonight had been chosen.
"Isabella," her father's deep voice rumbled beside her. Don Romano—tall, broad, a man whose presence swallowed the room—placed a hand on her arm. "Smile wider. They are looking at you."
She obeyed. She always did. The master's daughter had no choice.
But behind the smile, her chest tightened with the familiar weight of suffocation. Every glance from the guests saw not her, but her father's property. Every whispered compliment about her beauty was really a compliment to his power.
Then the music changed.
The string quartet faded, replaced by a low, rich strum of guitar. A voice followed—husky, alive, unpolished yet magnetic. It rolled through the ballroom, bending heads, silencing conversations.
Isabella turned, and for a moment, the world shrank to one man.
Ethan Hayes.
He stood at the far side of the stage, guitar slung across his shoulder, dark hair slightly tousled as though he had fought the wind and won. Unlike the polished musicians around him, Ethan's presence was raw, untamed. His shirt collar open, tie loose, he looked nothing like the men in her world—and perhaps that was why she couldn't look away.
His voice wove through the crowd, tugging at something deep inside her. Every note was rebellion, every lyric freedom.
And then his eyes found hers.
Isabella's lips parted, her heart stumbling against her ribs. She told herself it was chance, a fleeting moment—but he didn't look away. He held her gaze as if he knew exactly who she was, as if he wasn't afraid of the man standing beside her.
Don Romano lifted his glass in a toast, and the crowd cheered. Isabella forced herself to clap, though her pulse thundered with something she had never felt before.
Danger. Desire. Both wrapped in the same stolen glance.
By the time the song ended, Isabella knew two things:
She would never forget the sound of Ethan Hayes's voice.
And if her father ever realized what had just sparked between them, it could destroy them both.