Aria barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him; broad shoulders cutting through t the crowd, the sharp line of his jaw, the eyes that didn't blink even when every guard in the room turned towards him.Luca Valentino.Her fathers enemy.A name she has grown up hearing only in whispered caution and heated arguments behind closed doors.
She had always imagined the Valentinos as shadows, dangerous, faceless, monstrous silhouettes dragging blood behind them.
None of her father's warnings prepared her for the reality of a man whose presence could still her breath with a single look.
The morning sun spilling through her bedroom curtains felt too soft for the chaos swirling inside her. She sat up, rubbing her temples, her hair falling in a messy curtain around her face. The gala dress lay tossed across a chair, its shimmery fabric still holding the faint scent of his cologne where he had stood too close.
Too close to be forgotten.
"Aria?" The knock on her door came with her mother's gentle voice. "Breakfast is ready."
Aria blinked, forcing her heartbeat back into her chest. "I'll be right down."
She showered quickly, but even the warm water couldn't rinse away the memory of Luca's voice low, controlled, like he carried entire storms in his throat.
By the time she walked downstairs, her composure felt taped together. Fragile. Too easy to tear apart.
The dining room was unusually quiet. Her father sat at the head of the table, his suit already crisp, his expression carved into morning steel. Her mother stood by the counter pouring tea, her movements tight, controlled.
Something was wrong.
Her father didn't look up when she entered. He simply said, "Sit."
Her stomach dropped.
Aria slid into her seat, fingers tightening around her napkin. The silence stretched until her mother set down the tea and quietly excused herself, leaving the two of them alone.
Her father finally looked at her.
"You left the gala early last night."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement—sharp, dangerous, heavy with accusation.
Aria swallowed. "I—yes. I wasn't feeling well."
A lie. Her first mistake.
His eyes narrowed. "You weren't alone."
Her breath froze. The chair beneath her suddenly felt too small, too fragile, too exposed.
He knew.
"I know who you spoke to," he continued, his voice calm in the way that meant the storm was inside, not outside. "I had eyes in the room. Every family did."
Aria's heartbeat roared in her ears.
"Luca Valentino approached you." His tone cracked like a whip across the polished wood. "You let him."
"I didn't let him," she whispered. "He—he walked toward me. I couldn't stop him."
"You didn't walk away."
Her throat tightened. "There were people everywhere. It would have made a scene."
"A scene," he repeated, the word dripping with bitter amusement. "Since when do you care about appearances more than survival?"
She flinched.
Her father leaned back, studying her with a coldness that wasn't meant for her but cut just the same.
"Listen to me carefully, Aria." His voice dropped lower. "The Valentinos are not like us. They are reckless. They are unpredictable. They don't respect boundaries. And Luca he's the worst of them. Arrogant. Ruthless. Raised for bloodshed."
The thought of Luca being that kind of man sent a strange shiver down her spine. Not fear. Not excitement.
Something between both.
"You don't speak to him again," her father said. "Ever. Do you understand?"
Her chest tightened. "Yes."
But even as she said it, she felt the lie burning her tongue.
He watched her closely, as if searching for the truth beneath her words. After a long moment, he nodded.
"Good. You'll spend the next few days at home. No errands. No visits. No unnecessary outings." His voice hardened. "If the Valentinos think they can make a move through you, they're mistaken."
Her jaw clenched. Treated like a piece on a chessboard. A weakness to be exploited. A door for enemies.
She didn't know what frightened her more the way her father said it or the tiny, treacherous part of her that didn't believe Luca fit that description at all.
"Go eat," her father finished. "Your mother left food for you."
But Aria couldn't swallow anything not with her father's gaze still burning into her back, not with the memory of Luca's fingers brushing hers like they had been daring fate itself to intervene.
***
Luca Valentino also did not sleep.
But unlike Aria, he was used to insomnia. Darkness was an old friend, not an enemy. He spent most of the night in his office, reviewing surveillance footage from the gala, the city lights painting sharp silver lines across his desk.
He should've been thinking about business.
About shipping routes, negotiations, weapons stock, alliances fraying at the edges.
Instead, every few minutes, his mind dragged him back to her.
Aria Ricci.
Small frame, soft voice, fire beneath fear. She looked like someone who had grown up in a palace made of glass—beautiful but sheltered, every crack in the world hidden from her.
He didn't touch her arm intentionally.
He didn't plan to speak to her.
He didn't expect her to hold his gaze with both caution and curiosity.
But when she looked at him, it felt like something inside him stilled. For the first time in years, he wondered if there was a part of him that hadn't already turned to stone.
The door to his office opened without knocking.
Rafael, his cousin and second-in-command, stepped inside. "I knew I'd find you brooding in the dark like a cursed widow."
Luca shot him a warning look. Rafael smirked.
"You're thinking about her."
"No."
"Liar."
Luca sighed and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you came here just to annoy me—"
"Actually," Rafael interrupted, dropping a folder onto the desk, "I came because this might interest you."
Luca flipped it open.
Photos. Information. A name.
Aria Ricci.
His stomach tightened.
"You had someone follow her?" Luca asked, voice low.
"Of course." Rafael sat down. "You stepped outside your lane last night. You had a conversation. You looked at her like she was your next move. I'd be a bad consigliere if I didn't prepare for the fallout."
Luca glared. "She isn't a move."
Rafael laughed. "Then what is she?"
Luca didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
All he knew was the electricity that shot through him when she looked up at him like she recognized something in him she wasn't supposed to see.
"She's Ricci's daughter," Rafael continued. "An innocent one, mostly. He keeps her locked away from the real business."
"I know." Luca's voice was sharper than he intended.
Rafael raised an eyebrow. "So you *have* been thinking about her."
Luca didn't deny it.
Instead, he closed the folder, exhaling slowly. "What did her father say about last night?"
"According to our informant? He wasn't thrilled." Rafael grinned. "Apparently she got lectured before breakfast."
Luca's jaw tightened.
He shouldn't care.
He shouldn't think about her father raising his voice.
He shouldn't imagine her standing there, shrinking under the weight of mafia expectations.
But he did.
"She's not a threat," Luca said quietly.
"No," Rafael agreed. "But you might be."
Luca shot him another look. Rafael shrugged leisurely.
"Face it," Rafael said. "If you go near her again, it'll start a war."
Luca's voice dropped to a whisper.
"It felt like war the moment I looked at her."
***
Aria spent the rest of the day wandering the house aimlessly, forbidden to leave. The walls felt tighter than usual, pressing in on her. Every window was guarded. Every hallway had a shadow.
Her father wasn't paranoid.
He was cautious.
That was how he survived.
But today, his rules felt like chains.
She shouldn't want to break them.
She shouldn't think about Luca.
She shouldn't imagine what his voice would sound like if he said her name again.
But want wasn't something she could control anymore.
By late afternoon, she escaped onto the balcony overlooking the garden. The air felt cooler there, brushing against her skin like relief.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
Her heart jumped, fear and excitement blending until they tasted the same.
She opened it.
**You shouldn't look so trapped.
L.**
Her breath caught.
Luca.
Her fingers trembled as she typed back.
**How did you get my number?**
The reply came instantly.
**I collected it.
Rules aren't really my thing.**
Aria exhaled shakily.
Rules meant to be broken.
She should delete the conversation.
She should block him.
She should walk back inside and pretend the message never happened.
Instead, she typed:
**What do you want?**
A pause.
Then:
**One conversation.
No titles.
No family names.
Just you and me.**
Her pulse hammered.
**Why?**
The answer made her knees weaken.
**Because last night, you looked at me like you weren't supposed to.
And I liked it.**
Aria closed her eyes.
This was wrong.
Dangerous.
Forbidden.
But her thumbs moved before her fear could stop them.
**Where?**
This time, Luca didn't hesitate.
**Wherever you're brave enough to meet me.**