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*Chapter One: The Invitation*
The letter arrived with no return address.
Just heavy, ivory paper—edges gold-foiled, the seal pressed deep in red wax with the unmistakable mark of the Rossi family: a serpent wrapped around a rose, fangs sunk into the petals.
Isabella stared at it too long before touching it.
She had seen that crest before.
On the news.
On crime files.
On caskets
On weapons.
On the chest of men who disappeared before sunrise.
She should have thrown it into the fire.
Instead, she broke the seal with shaking hands and read:
_"You are formally invited to the House of Rossi. Midnight. Come alone. The Don expects you."_
No name. No reason. Just demand.
Lorenzo Rossi.
The devil in a suit.
Powerful. Dangerous. Untouchable.
Her heart thundered. Not in fear, but something worse—*curiosity*.
She knew who Lorenzo Rossi was.
She wasn't just some random girl. She had secrets too.
A bloodline no one dared to whisper.
A past that was stitched with fire and ruin.
Now he wanted her?
The ghost in tailored suits.
The man who ruled the city's underworld with iron whispers and gold bullets.
Some called him Don.
Others called him Devil.
But no one ever said *no* to him and walked away breathing.
She knew better than to get involved.
And yet… she had been waiting for this.
They had crossed paths once—just a glance.
A funeral.
A whisper of a smile on his lips.
A gaze that followed her long after he turned away.
She'd never told anyone, but she felt it that night.
Like a match had been struck and dropped right into her blood.
Now this?
A letter.
An invitation.
A warning.
She stepped back from the mirror, slipping into her black dress—elegant, sharp, and dangerous.
No one in their right mind would walk into the house of a crime lord.
But Isabella wasn't exactly sane.
She wasn't afraid of monsters.
*She was raised by them.*
And if Lorenzo Rossi thought she would be just another pawn in his game…
He was about to learn what it meant to make a queen bleed.
Let the game begin
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