The night wasn't over.
But for Bosco Moretti, the gala had already lost its purpose.
The music, the conversations, the meaningless smiles—none of it held his attention anymore.
Not after the dance.
Not after her.
Riyana.
Bosco stepped out onto the private balcony, the cold night air cutting through the warmth of the ballroom behind him. The city lights stretched endlessly below, sharp and alive.
He welcomed the silence.
"You're distracted."
Marco's voice broke through the quiet as he stepped beside him.
Bosco didn't turn immediately.
"I'm thinking."
Marco gave a small, knowing smile.
"No. You're not thinking. You're reacting."
Bosco glanced at him briefly.
"That's new."
"So is she."
Bosco didn't respond.
Because Marco wasn't wrong.
Before the moment could settle—
Another presence entered the balcony.
Heavy.
Commanding.
Dangerous.
Bosco's posture shifted instantly.
Marco went still.
Slowly, Bosco turned.
And there he was.
Dante Leone.
Riyana's father.
His greatest rival.
The air changed completely.
"Well," Dante said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "This is unexpected."
Bosco faced him fully.
"Dante."
No handshake.
No greeting.
Just names.
Marco stepped back slightly, knowing better than to interfere.
Dante walked forward, his gaze sharp and calculating.
"I saw you dancing with my daughter."
Bosco's tone remained steady.
"She was assigned to me."
Dante's lips curved faintly.
"And you had no choice?"
Bosco met his eyes.
"Neither did she."
Silence fell between them.
Heavy with history.
Years of rivalry.
Unspoken threats.
Dante stopped just a few steps away.
"You've always had a habit of crossing lines."
Bosco didn't flinch.
"And you've always had a habit of thinking you control everything."
Dante's eyes darkened.
"This isn't about business."
Bosco tilted his head slightly.
"No?"
"It's about my daughter."
That made Bosco pause—just for a fraction of a second.
Dante noticed.
"You stay away from her."
The words were calm.
But absolute.
Bosco's expression didn't change.
"Or what?"
Marco exhaled quietly behind him.
Dante stepped closer.
Now the threat was undeniable.
"You know exactly what."
Bosco held his ground.
"I don't take orders."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"This isn't an order."
"Sounds like one."
"It's a warning."
Bosco's voice cooled.
"I don't respond well to threats."
Dante let out a low, humorless chuckle.
"You think this is a threat?"
Bosco didn't answer.
That silence was enough.
Dante's gaze sharpened.
"I'm not threatening you because I'm afraid of you."
Bosco's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And what do you think I am?"
"A man who takes what he wants."
Bosco didn't deny it.
Dante stepped even closer.
"But my daughter isn't something you can take."
Bosco's voice dropped.
"I'm not trying to take anything."
"Then what are you doing?"
For the first time—
Bosco didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth wasn't simple anymore.
And Dante saw that hesitation.
It made everything worse.
"You don't even know," Dante said quietly.
Bosco's expression hardened again.
"I don't need your approval."
"And you don't have it."
Silence.
Thick.
Dangerous.
Marco shifted slightly, tension building in the air.
Dante spoke again.
"If you go near her again…"
His voice lowered, colder than before.
"It won't end well for you."
Bosco let out a slow breath.
"You've been saying that for years."
"This time is different."
Bosco's gaze sharpened.
"Because of her?"
"Yes."
There it was.
Not just anger.
Protection.
Real.
Dangerous.
Bosco noticed.
But he didn't step back.
"You're making this bigger than it is," Bosco said.
"No."
Dante's voice was firm.
"You are."
Bosco's patience thinned.
"You think I care about your family drama?"
Dante's expression turned deadly calm.
"You should."
"Why?"
"Because if you hurt her…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
The meaning was clear.
Bosco stepped forward.
Now they stood face to face.
No space left between them.
"You don't get to decide what I do," Bosco said quietly.
"And you don't get to step into my world."
"I'm already in it."
That was the line.
And both men knew it.
Dante's hand curled slightly into a fist.
Marco tensed.
The air felt like it could explode at any moment.
Then—
A voice cut through the tension.
"Enough."
Both men turned.
Riyana stood at the balcony entrance.
Her expression was sharp.
Controlled.
But her eyes burned.
"What is this?" she demanded.
Silence.
Neither of them answered immediately.
Riyana stepped forward.
"I asked a question."
Dante spoke first.
"This doesn't concern you."
Riyana laughed once.
"You're talking about me. It concerns me."
Dante's voice hardened.
"Go back inside."
"No."
That single word landed like a challenge.
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"Riyana—"
"I said no."
She walked forward—
And placed herself between them.
Marco closed his eyes briefly.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Riyana looked at Bosco.
"Did you start this?"
Bosco's voice was calm.
"No."
She turned to her father.
"Then you did."
Dante didn't deny it.
"I'm ending it."
Riyana shook her head.
"No. You're making it worse."
Dante's expression softened for just a second.
"This is for your safety."
"I don't need this kind of protection."
"You do."
"I don't."
Bosco watched silently.
Something in his expression shifted.
Subtle.
Unreadable.
Riyana turned to him again.
"And you—stay out of this."
Bosco raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't realize I was invited."
"You weren't."
"Then why am I being blamed?"
"Because you're part of the problem."
Bosco's eyes darkened slightly.
"That's your opinion."
"It's a fact."
Silence fell again.
Riyana exhaled sharply.
"I'm done with both of you."
She stepped back.
But before leaving, she looked directly at Bosco.
"If you come near me again…"
Her voice turned ice cold.
"I won't be polite next time."
Bosco held her gaze.
"I'm counting on it."
Riyana turned immediately and walked away.
Dante gave Bosco one last look.
"This is your last warning."
Bosco didn't respond.
Dante followed his daughter.
The balcony fell silent again.
Marco finally exhaled.
"Well… that went badly."
Bosco didn't move.
His eyes remained on the doorway where Riyana had stood.
"No," he said quietly.
Marco frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Bosco's voice was calm.
"Now it's clear."
"Clear what?"
Bosco turned slightly, his expression unreadable.
"This isn't just business anymore."
Marco sighed.
"I was afraid you'd say that."
Bosco looked back at the city lights.
"And that makes it far more interesting."
Marco shook his head slowly.
"No," he said.
"That makes it dangerous."
But Bosco Moretti…
Was no longer thinking about danger.
He was thinking about Riyana.