Rain didn't fall that day, it sliced, cold and merciless, through the gray sky and into the black silk of Aria Moretti's funeral dress. She stood still, unmoving, as the coffin dropped into the ground, the final thud of earth sounding more final than any goodbye.
Her brother, Matteo, was twenty-nine. Too young to burn in the backseat of his favorite car.
There were no suspects. No arrests. Just ashes.
And rumors.
Rumors that one man had ordered the hit. Rumors no one dared confirm aloud.
Aria's eyes snapped up as a sleek black Maserati came to a slow stop at the edge of the cemetery. Men in black suits stepped out first guards, soldiers, the usual show of muscle.
Then him.
Luciano D'Angelo.
Even dressed in mourning, he looked like a king born of fire obsidian suit tailored to lethal perfection, rain sliding off his dark hair like it knew better than to touch him.
He walked toward her with practiced indifference, like he belonged in every graveyard he visited. And maybe he did.
Aria's pulse pounded, but she didn't flinch.
He doesn't get to see me scared.
"You're brave," Luciano said quietly as he reached her, voice smooth and cutting. "Or foolish. Standing out here alone."
She didn't look at him. "You shouldn't be here."
"This was my territory long before it was your brother's."
Her hands balled into fists. "This was Matteo's home. You had no right."
He stared at the grave, then slowly turned to her. "And now it's yours."
The words hit like icewater. Aria met his eyes, those famous D'Angelo eyes, cold and unreadable, like stone polished over generations of blood.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
Luciano studied her for a beat too long. "To offer a solution."
"To what?"
"To the war that's coming. Unless we stop it."
He stepped closer, so close she could smell the hint of leather and smoke on his jacket. "I'm offering peace."
Aria blinked, thunder rolling in the distance.
Luciano's tone darkened. "On one condition."
She didn't want to ask. Didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
But she did.
"What condition?"
"You marry me."
Silence cracked louder than the sky.
For a moment, Aria thought she'd misheard him. But the look on his face, the calm, unshakable certainty—said otherwise.
"You want me to marry you?" she repeated, voice hollow. "You think I'd agree to that?"
"I think," he said smoothly, "that you're smarter than your brother."
The insult hit sharp, but she bit it back. "You murdered him."
"No," Luciano said, tone flat. "I ordered a message. Your brother disrespected a blood pact. He made deals behind my back. That car fire? That wasn't part of the plan."
Her chest squeezed. "So you're denying it?"
"I'm saying you don't know the whole story."
She stared up at him, her grief sharpening into fury. "And your solution to this 'misunderstanding' is to marry me?"
Luciano's expression didn't shift. "To keep our families from tearing each other apart? Yes."
Aria scoffed, blinking rain from her lashes. "And what does your family get from this alliance?"
A slow smile crept across his mouth. "You. Publicly loyal. Privately obedient. The new queen of the D'Angelos."
Heat flared in her chest—rage, disgust, confusion.
She turned to her father standing behind her, half-hidden beneath an umbrella, his expression unreadable.
"Tell me he's lying," she said.
Carlo Moretti didn't speak. Didn't move.
"Papà?" Her voice cracked.
Still nothing.
Luciano's voice cut in like a knife. "The deal was made hours ago. Your father agreed. The wedding will be this week."
Aria's breath caught.
"You went behind my back," she whispered to her father. "You sold me to the man who—"
"Saved his life," Luciano interrupted coldly. "You think the Morettis could survive a war with me? With what you have left?"
She turned back to him, voice shaking with fury. "You want peace? You could've asked. Not blackmailed."
"I don't negotiate with people who hide behind dead brothers."
She slapped him.
The sound echoed in the storm.
Luciano didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He just turned his face back to her, that same unreadable expression etched into his features.
"Feel better?" he asked.
Her eyes burned. "Not even close."
He leaned down, voice just for her. "You'll say yes. Because deep down, you know this marriage saves everyone. Including you."
Aria's heart pounded so hard she could barely hear the rain anymore.
"I'll never be yours," she said.
Luciano smiled faintly. "Not yet."
Then he turned, walked away like he hadn't just shattered her world.
Aria stood frozen, tears mixing with the rain, her father still silent behind her, and her brother's grave wide open in front.
And in that moment, she realized something far worse than betrayal:
She was already trapped