Hikky Vàlká never knew when love came, it came blind.
It didn't care how beautiful or ugly, how rich or poor a person was.
Love simply chose, like a curse disguised as grace.
It all began the night the water in her small quarters stopped running.
The pipes hissed and went dry, and frustration tugged at her chest.
She had barely forty minutes before her master, Dante Moretti, returned to his mansion.
If she waited, she would miss her only chance to wash off the day's exhaustion.
"Just a quick bath," she whispered to herself. "He won't even notice I used his bathroom."
So she hurried through the silent corridors of his private wing, heart thudding at every echo of her steps.
The mansion's walls seemed to breathe around her.. dark, luxurious, and laced with the scent of expensive cologne and gunmetal.
Inside his bathroom, marble shimmered beneath the golden lights.
Everything smelled of him... of power, smoke, and control.
She tried not to think about that. She was only his maid.
She knew she had develop feelings for him, but she always tried to control her feeling. Especially when she is around him.
She can't resist the way he look at her, he look was official but for her, it was sexy.
She shouldn't be thinking of him that way, she is just a common maid.
The one who cleaned his inner chambers, cooked his meals, and served his wine.
The one her father had sold to him in exchange for debts that could never be repaid.
A dull ache spread through her chest as she thought of it.
Twenty-eight years of servitude.
Twenty-eight years before she could call herself free. And by then, perhaps she would have forgotten what freedom even meant.
She sighed, pushing the thoughts away.
She turned on the tap, let the cold water touch her skin, and closed her eyes for a moment that almost felt human.
When she reached for the towel... his towel, soft and black like sin she hesitated.
Every inch of this room belonged to Dante Moretti.
Even the silence.... Even the air.
She shouldn't be here.
But she had no choice.
She made her way into the bathroom and enjoyed her warm shower.
The soap slipped suddenly from her hand, bouncing across the wet floor. "Damn," she muttered, bending down to pick it up.
And in that exact heartbeat... the door opened.
Her breath caught, "didn't she locked the door? ".. She asked within herself.
She froze.... Her naked butt was positioned facing the bathroom door
The world stilled around her as she got up and turned slowly, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, droplets sliding down her bare skin.
Standing in the doorway was Dante Moretti, the devil himself.
He stood Tall.... Cold Eyes dark as midnight storms.
He didn't speak, he didn't blink. Only stared, like a man caught between fury and something far more dangerous.
Hikky's lips parted, but no sound came.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as realization sank in, she hadn't really locked the door.
The devil had caught her naked.
The same man who never smiled.
Who yelled at her for the smallest mistakes.
Who never once said thank you. The man everyone feared, and now standing before her, watching her like she was something forbidden he couldn't look away from.
She wanted to vanish. To melt into the tiles. But she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Hikky recoiled into reality, haunted by the weight of her curse every man who fell in love with her met a merciless death.
It was that same curse that made her father sell her off when desperation struck and debts needed clearing.
In her city, men feared even her shadow; no one dared to love the woman whose affection could kill.
She knew she could never marry unless she wore a black wedding gown, a symbol of mourning and fate's cruel humour.
Yet even then, doom awaited beyond the altar. Was she ready to face all this? Hell no.
Then why... why was she falling in love? she asked herself now. She wouldn't let him die. And she didn't even know how to convince any man that she would wear a black wedding dress…
Twenty-eight years, she reminded herself desperately.
She only had to serve him for twenty-eight years.
And there was a rule. A brutal one that no woman should ever dare to seduce the Mafia boss.
Anyone accused of it was sent to his aunt, Lady B.
A woman cruel enough to make hell seem like mercy.
Few days back she was cleaning his old shelves, she came across a picture.... A small photo of him on short only.... Shirtless picture of him.
His masculine shape, his muscles and six-packs on his stomach... Staring at the photo made her wet.
She landed on his king sized bed, imagining him on-top of her, while she moan his name, she didn't notice he entered, until she open her eyes and saw him right in front of her staring at her.
She apologized and felt embarrassed.
And today, here she is - using his bathroom and unintentionally positioned her butt towards the door as she bent to pick up her fallen soap.
Now he would think she had done exactly that.
He would think she had been seducing him all along.
Her body trembled.
She lifted one arm to cover her breasts, the other to hide the soft skin between her thighs.
Her face burned as her gaze met his one last time, his eyes glinting like a warning and a promise all at once.
And in that charged, breathless moment, Hikky Vàlká realized something far worse than fear.
She was falling deeply in love with the dangerous, ruthless devil.....