POV: Aria
Even though the city never sleeps, it feels like it's holding its breath tonight, ready for me to walk into the lion's den.
As I squeezed the stem of the glass harder, it shook in my hand. The person looking back at me in the mirror was not me. Drawn lips. a velvety black dress that fits my shape like a glove. Diamond rings that shine like guns.
She was no longer there. What I saw was Scarlett Vale, a woman who was made to trick, charm, and stay alive.
Bianca whispered behind me, pulling on the straps of my dress, "Stop shaking." "Fear will smell like blood in the water to him."
"One night," I said in a low voice as I looked at my darkened eyes in the mirror. "One goal." John Luciano Moretti. I won't use bullets, but words to break him down.
Bianca laughed out loud, and her strong French accent wrapped the words like smoke. "Either that or he'll take something else away from you first."
I laughed, but the sound in my chest wasn't funny. It was fear. And I want to. And something scary that didn't have a name.
I told him a lie and said, "Let him try."
Setting up
It smelled like perfume, sweat, and secrets in that room. Biana pinned the last piece of my hair into a wave that touched my shoulder. Her whisper was shaking as she leaned in close.
"You can still leave now."
"No." I put my chin up. "He wins if I leave." It's over for him to win now.
Her hand stayed on my arm, and the fingers got tighter. "Aria, you're not ready for him yet." "No one ever is."
The name burned like poison on my tongue as I swallowed.
John Luciano Moretti. The king who stays out of sight. The person who killed my family with one autograph. The tyrant whose power was based on lying and killing people. The man I was about to meet not with guns, but with red silk lies sewn into them.
When we got to Velvet, the well-known private club was beating like a heart. There were red lights all over the walls. There was laughter and whispering in the air, like smoke.
I walked in by myself.
Each step was like a promise.
Suits for men. Women in dresses. Power that looks like excess. But I could feel him before I saw him pull, the weight, and the quiet storm in the room.
Then... his eyes.
Luciano Moretti sat in the dark with a crown of cigar smoke around him. Black suit, dark tie, and a stare that was so sharp it cut through skin to bone. The world stopped when he looked into my eyes.
I went cold. I forgot how to breathe for a very short time.
I said the name Bianca had made up for me over and over under my breath: "Scarlett Vale." It felt like wine in my mouth.
I got closer, but every step was hard because I was scared. He looked at me with a lazy, interested, and dangerous look.
At the bar, a tall, wide, and smug man was in my way. "Hi, sweetheart. You're new here. "You don't belong here."
My smile didn't change. "Maybe I'm right where I should be at this moment."
From the shadows came a low laugh. Him.
Luciano slowly rose, like a god coming down from a marble statue.
He spoke with a voice as smooth as silk that made everyone around us freeze. "Let her through," he said.
The man moved out of the way right away.
Ahead of him, Luciano's eyes never left mine. The air between us was sucked out by his presence. Heat. Risk. Power.
He just said, "You." His accent was thick and husky, with a thread of something I couldn't place. "What are you?"
I tried to smile. Men who ask too many questions should not talk to this woman.
He looked at me and his lips moved into the tiniest, scariest smile. "Brave." Or stupid."
"It depends on who asks."
This is Luciano Moretti. He put out his hand.
I didn't get it. Not yet.
There was a long stretch of electric, unbearable quiet. He then leaned closer to me out of the blue, and his hot breath hit my ear.
"I know you're not telling the truth."
My blood froze over.
"What do you mean?" I asked with a calm voice, even though my heart was beating fast in my throat.
"Your name is like perfume on other women." Too close, his lips touched my skin. "But you can't lie with your eyes."
My mask fell apart for a split second. It hurt a lot to feel my real name and pain in my chest. But I was unable to break it. Not here.
I smiled because of that. "Then maybe you should look away from them."
He laughed in a low, dangerous way. Scarlett Vale, is that it? Please explain why your smile tastes like vengeance.
It made my stomach hurt. How much did he see? How much did he understand?
I lied when I said, "I don't believe in revenge."
"No?" I had to lean back against the bar because he moved closer. "What do you believe in then?"
I tilted my chin and looked into his eyes with a fire I didn't feel. "I think we should win."
His smile got bigger and as sharp as a knife. "Maybe we'll get along then."
I kept hearing Bianca's words, "You're not ready for him." A spark lit when his fingers touched mine on the bar counter, though, and it scared me more than his strength.
Want.
The one flaw I couldn't stand.
He called her by a fake name and said, "Play your games, Scarlett." "But remember this: If you come into my world, you'll lose something."
I tried to laugh, but the words hurt like rocks inside me.
I said in a whisper, "Maybe I came here to lose."
His eyes got darker. "Be careful what you give."
The music got louder. Glasses hit each other. A roar of laughter. But at that time, it was just him and me.
It was like Luciano Moretti could see and want too much from me.
And then he slowly and carefully took my hand off my fingers and kissed them.
It felt like fire.
He said in a soft voice, "You interest me, Scarlett Vale." "I also don't like mysteries that I can't figure out."
He leaned in close and kissed my ear.
"You must be kidding me, Aria Russo. Why are you here?"