The chandelier above glimmered coldly, its crystal drops casting sharp reflections across the marble floor. Isabella De Luca stood at the center of the grand dining hall, wrapped in a blood-red silk gown that whispered power and warning with every step. Her father's voice echoed behind her, but her focus was elsewhere on the two men seated across the table.
Lorenzo Moretti.
Dominic Valenti.
Two names that carried weight, fear, and blood in the underworld. Two rivals. Two heirs. And now, both vying for her.
"Isa," her father barked, forcing her to face him. "You know what's at stake."
Of course she did. The De Luca empire was crumbling. Alliances were shattering, their enemies circling like wolves. To survive, her father arranged a deal: she would marry one of the two mafia heirs. The choice was hers. Or so they claimed.
Lorenzo's eyes icy blue and calculated met hers like a knife to the throat. He was calm, cruel, and terrifyingly intelligent. Everything about him screamed control. He didn't need to say much to own a room. He simply had to look. He represented power. Order. And a kind of security she hated herself for craving.
Dominic, on the other hand, was chaos wrapped in silk. Sharp-jawed, with eyes that burned like fire and a smirk that hinted at danger, he leaned back in his seat like he already owned her. He was wild, unpredictable, and reckless. But beneath it all, Isabella sensed something else pain. Or was it a trap?
"You have until midnight," her father said, walking away. "Choose wisely. This isn't just about love. It's about war."
Love. As if that mattered here.
The doors closed behind him, and silence swallowed the room.
Lorenzo was the first to stand. "I don't care if you choose me or not," he said coldly, walking toward her. "But if you do, I'll make sure your enemies never touch you. You'll be a queen, Isabella. Untouchable."
He stopped inches away, his gaze steady. "But don't expect softness from me. I don't offer hearts. Only kingdoms."
And just like that, he was gone.
Dominic rose slowly, tossing a grape into his mouth with a grin. "You know," he said casually, "he's lying. He'd lock you in a cage and call it protection."
He approached her more playfully, twirling a strand of her hair. "Choose me, bella. And I'll give you fire. I'll burn down the world for you. Or with you. Either way, sounds fun, no?"
"You sound insane," she muttered.
"Maybe. But at least I won't pretend to be anything else."
He leaned in closer, whispering against her skin, "Just don't lie to yourself. You've always liked the fire."
Then he left, whistling as he disappeared down the corridor.
Isabella stood alone, her heart pounding like war drums. Midnight approached.
Two men.
Two empires.
And one woman stuck in the middle.
What none of them knew was that Isabella had her own secrets ones that could ruin them all.
But tonight, she had to play their game.
At least for now.
I could feel their eyes on me the entire night.
Luca, ever the embodiment of charm and quiet power, stayed mostly in the shadows, glass of whiskey in hand, observing. But his eyes those stormy grey eyes never left me. They burned with a promise, or maybe a threat. I wasn't sure which terrified me more.
Then there was Matteo, the devil with a smile. Bold, charismatic, and unbothered by social etiquette, he made his presence known the second he stepped in. He was the one who walked straight up to me in the middle of the dance floor, extended his hand without asking, and spun me into a slow dance that made everyone stare.
"You don't belong here," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
"And you do?" I replied, trying to keep my voice even.
"I own this room," he said with a smirk. "Just like I will own your heart."
Bold words. Words that should've made me laugh or roll my eyes. But instead, they made my heart stutter.
I pulled away, only to catch Luca's gaze from across the room. Cold. Unreadable. But his jaw tightened. And that said everything.
They weren't just men. They were kings in a world of blood and secrets. Enemies. And somehow, both had their sights set on me.
God help me, I didn't know which one I was more afraid to want.
I left the ballroom early, my heels echoing against the marble as I walked through the empty hallway. My hands trembled, though I wasn't sure if it was from fear or something more dangerous—curiosity.
Luca and Matteo. Two names that struck fear in the underworld. Two names whispered with caution in every corner of New York's elite. And somehow, they both had noticed me.
I didn't ask for this attention. I came tonight only because my father—a powerful politician—insisted. He said it was good for "networking." What he really meant was: shake hands with the devils, and smile while doing it.
But now I was caught in their sights.
A cold draft swept through the corridor, followed by footsteps behind me. I turned swiftly.
Luca.
He stood in the shadows, the light catching just enough of his face to reveal those haunting eyes.
"You shouldn't have danced with him," he said quietly.
"I didn't know I needed permission," I replied, crossing my arms.
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "With men like us, everything has a price."
"And what's mine?"
He leaned in, voice low and firm. "Your safety. Your loyalty. Your heart."
Before I could respond, another voice cut through the silence.
"She doesn't owe you anything, Luca," Matteo said, emerging from the opposite end of the corridor, jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder. "In fact, I think she enjoyed our dance."
Luca's expression hardened. "Stay out of this, Matteo."
"Or what?" Matteo smirked, stepping beside me now. "You'll start a war over a woman you haven't even kissed?"
Luca didn't respond, but the look in his eyes was answer enough.
I stood between them two forces of nature, both dangerous, both intoxicating. I should've walked away. I should've told them I wanted no part of their twisted games.
But the truth was... part of me was drawn to both.
And deep down, I knew my life would never be the same again.