The night pulsed with chaos. Music thundered through Inferno, the Moretti family's most notorious nightclub, where sin lived in every shadow and pleasure could be bought with a glance.
Adrian Moretti leaned back on the leather couch in the VIP room, a half-smirk on his lips, a bottle of whiskey beside him. Women draped themselves over him like silk, laughing too loudly, touching too eagerly, as if his very name promised salvation.
Adrian didn't believe in salvation.
One girl perched on his lap, blonde hair falling into her heavily painted eyes. She kissed the sharp line of his jaw, whispering, "Adrian, stay with me tonight."
Another pouted from the other side, her manicured nails trailing down his arm. "No, he promised me first."
Adrian's dark eyes flicked between them, unreadable, almost bored. "Promised?" His voice was smooth, laced with mockery. "I don't make promises. I take what I want."
The women giggled nervously, each hoping to be the one he chose. He tilted his head back, taking a long sip straight from the bottle, amber liquid sliding down his throat.
The room reeked of perfume, sweat, and desperation. Laughter echoed, bodies pressed against him, yet Adrian felt nothing. It was all a game he'd played too many times. Women came and went like smoke, leaving nothing behind.
He snapped his fingers. A guard entered instantly, bowing his head. Adrian didn't look at him. He simply gestured at the blonde and the brunette tangled on either side of him. "Take them to the room."
The women squealed with delight, thinking they had won. They clung to his arms as he stood, towering over them with a predator's grace. He led them down the velvet hallway, where shadows danced against the walls.
The private suite was drenched in dim red light. The girls threw themselves onto the bed, giggling as they tugged at his shirt. Adrian watched them, expressionless.
"Adrian," one moaned, trying to capture his lips.
His hand gripped her chin, hard enough to make her gasp. His eyes darkened, that dangerous edge slipping through his mask. "You think you want me?" His voice was low, lethal. "You don't even know what I am."
For a heartbeat, fear flickered in her eyes, quickly hidden by a forced smile.
Adrian let her go, stepping back, running a hand through his dark hair. He wasn't aroused. He wasn't amused. He was restless, a storm in a gilded cage.
The girls whispered behind him, confused. Why invite them in, only to push them away? But Adrian didn't care. He poured himself another drink, ignoring their presence as if they were furniture.
When dawn crept across the horizon, Adrian stood on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers. The city stretched below, beautiful and rotten all at once. He had everything money, power, fear and yet, an emptiness gnawed at him like hunger.
He didn't know what he was searching for. He only knew he hadn't found it yet.
Far across the city, Emma pulled her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders. The morning air was sharp against her skin as she followed one Servant through the towering iron gates of the Moretti estate.
Her bare feet touched the cold marble as they entered the grand hall. She shivered, not only from the chill but from the overwhelming sight before her. Chandeliers glittered above like frozen stars. The walls were carved with gold patterns. The mansion smelled of polish, roses, and power.
Emma's simple white frock looked like a rag in comparison. Her chestnut hair fell loosely down her back, her cheeks flushed from the long walk. Her lips were soft, trembling, her wide doe eyes darting around with innocent confusion.
She had never seen such wealth.
One of the maids bowed to the stern woman waiting at the top of the staircase. "Signora Lucia, this is the new girl. Emma. She's here to pay for her father's debts. From today, she will serve as a maid."
Emma lowered her head, her small hands clutching the hem of her dress.
Lucia's sharp eyes swept over her, from her tangled hair to her bare feet. She sighed heavily, her voice laced with disdain. "So this is what they send me? Pathetic. Innocent eyes won't protect you here, ragazza. This mansion doesn't forgive mistakes."
Emma's throat tightened. She nodded silently.
"Learn the rules," Lucia continued harshly. "You speak only when spoken to. You do not look the master in the eye unless commanded. You work until your hands bleed, and you never complain. Do you understand?"
Emma opened her lips, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y-Yes, Signora."
Lucia shook her head, muttering in Italian under her breath, and swept away down the hall.
The maid who had spoken earlier turned to Emma, her tone softer. "Don't mind her. Come, I'll show you to the servants' quarters."
Emma hesitated, her wide eyes shining as she glanced around once more. She nodded slowly, falling into step behind the maid. Her bare feet padded softly against the marble, the hem of her white dress brushing the floor.
But as she turned the corner, she collided with something solid.
Emma gasped, stumbling back. Her heel caught on the floor, and she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain of hitting the ground.
But instead of cold marble, she felt strong hands grip her waist. The scent of whiskey and smoke enveloped her.
Slowly, trembling, she opened her eyes.
Adrian Moretti stood before her.
His dark hair was tousled, his shirt half-open from the night before. His eyes hooded, dangerous, still heavy with drink locked on her. For a moment, he didn't move. He simply stared.
Emma's breath caught. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as if he wasn't holding her to stop her from falling but to claim her entirely.
Her lashes fluttered, her lips parted in shock. The innocence in her gaze shone like light in the shadows.
Adrian's jaw tightened. Something unfamiliar, something sharp and unsettling, flickered in his chest. He didn't let go.
The maid gasped, bowing immediately. "Young Master please forgive her. She's new. She didn't mean..."
Adrian ignored her. His gaze never left Emma's.
For the first time in his life, the spoiled mafia heir felt something more than boredom.
And Emma, caught in his grasp, felt the weight of a destiny she had never chosen press down on her.
Two souls. Two worlds. Colliding in a single heartbeat.
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