Crown Of The Underworld

Chapter Two

No One Leaves Alive

Marco stepped back, still smiling, as if he'd already buried me. Around the room, whispers erupted, voices overlapping until they became one low roar of disbelief and outrage.

"Impossible..."

"She's a woman."

"Alessandro has lost his mind."

"The lawyer forged it."

Mr. Conti raised his hand and announced, "The will is legally binding," but no one listened as a crystal glass shattered against the marble floor and another chair scraped backward, the atmosphere shifting from disbelief to something far uglier.

I stood perfectly still, my fingers wrapped around the leather strap of my handbag, my knuckles white, my lungs refusing to fill. Not because I wasn't afraid, but because fear was exactly what they wanted to see.

Marco laughed softly and spread his arms. "You hear that? That's the sound of an empire refusing its queen."

I met his gaze and held it. "I never asked to be your queen."

"No." His smile deepened. "You asked for something much worse."

I frowned, confused. "My father's throne."

Before I could answer, another voice cut through the room, quiet and calm but obeyed immediately by everyone present. "Enough."

Lorenzo hadn't raised his voice, but the room obeyed him anyway as Marco looked irritated and asked, "You expect me to stand here while a stranger takes everything?"

"I expect you," Lorenzo replied calmly, "to remember whose funeral you're attending.”

A muscle ticked in Marco's jaw and for the first time, I saw something beneath his arrogance. Respect.

Lorenzo wasn't one of the brothers, and he wasn't family, yet every man in this room measured his words around him, and that made him more dangerous than any of them.

Mr. Conti cleared his throat and announced, "There is... one final condition," and the room fell silent again as Marco folded his arms and asked, "What condition?"

The lawyer unfolded another page and continued, "Miss Valentina De Luca will not officially assume leadership until the terms outlined by Don Alessandro are fulfilled. Until then, the Underboss will oversee the empire as protector. His duty is to ensure Miss De Luca remains alive."

A bitter laugh escaped Marco as he looked directly at me and said, "That won't be easy."

"It wasn't meant to be," Lorenzo answered, the words matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather instead of my survival.

The meeting dissolved into chaos as men argued across the table, some demanding another reading and others accusing the lawyer of fraud, while several stormed out altogether.

I remained where I was, frozen, the weight of everything pressing down on my shoulders like stones.

Twenty-four hours ago, I had been running my small art restoration studio, and now someone wanted me to rule one of the most feared criminal empires in Europe, while half the room wanted me dead before sunset.

"Miss De Luca."

Lorenzo appeared beside me, close enough for me to notice the faint scent of cedarwood and expensive cologne.

"Come with me."

He didn't wait for an answer. He turned and disappeared through a side door.

I hesitated only a second before following.

The noise from the hall faded behind us until only our footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor. The walls were dark, the air cold and still.

He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and pushed it open.

"This is your room."

He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter.

"After you."

I walked past him, my shoulder brushing against his chest, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

The room was large, cold, and impersonal. A four-poster bed stood against the far wall. A fireplace sat cold and unused.

He stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him.

The soft click of the lock echoed through the room, sharp and final in the silence.

He remained still, listening. The only sound was the faint hum of the house settling around us. His gray eyes flicked toward the door, scanning the darkness beyond the wood as if he could see through it.

Only after he was certain we were alone did he turn to face me.

"You're standing in a house where loyalty is bought, not given," he said.

I held his gaze. "Does that include you?"

His gray eyes met mine.

"Especially me."

“Stay away from heated arguments," he said, his voice low. "The kind you witnessed today. They'll get you killed faster than a bullet."

I held his gaze. "What else?"

"Always lock your doors." He glanced at the door behind him. "Every single time."

"Why?"

"Because in this house, trust is a weapon they'll use against you.”

Then…

A crash echoed from the hallway. Glass shattered against marble.

Lorenzo's eyes snapped toward the door. I saw him move fast toward the sound to the hallway.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding. Several minutes passed before Lorenzo returned.

He stepped back inside and closed the door. He glanced at the door, then back at me.

His features remained composed, but something in his eyes told me he'd found exactly what he expected.

"Good. They didn't hear anything worth killing for.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lorenzo held my gaze for a moment and my stomach tightened.

"The less you know tonight, the longer you'll live.”

He reached for the doorknob then paused. "Always lock your door." Then he stepped into the hallway, and the door clicked shut behind him.

----

I don't remember falling asleep.

I woke to the sound of footsteps outside my door, my eyes snapping open as the room remained dark and the fire still cold, my heart pounding against my ribs while I sat up and reached for the lamp on the bedside table.

The footsteps stopped. Silence stretched across the room, then the door handle turned.

My blood ran cold as the handle twisted slowly, testing the lock, and I heard a soft click, the sound of pressure against wood.

Someone was trying to get in.

I scrambled out of bed, my bare feet silent against the cold floor, my hand closing around the first thing I could find, a heavy candleholder from the desk. I lifted it, my grip tight, my breath shallow.

The handle turned again, harder this time.

I backed toward the window, my heart pounding so loud I could barely think.

"Lorenzo?"

I didn't know why I said his name. I didn't know why I thought he would come. But the sound of his name left my lips before I could stop it.

The handle stopped moving.

Silence. Then the footsteps faded down the hallway.

I stood frozen, the candleholder still raised, my body trembling in the dark.

A knock came at the door. Not the handle. A knock.

I didn't move.

"Valentina." Lorenzo's voice, low and calm.

I crossed the room and unlocked the door.

He stood in the hallway, his dark hair disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His gray eyes scanned my face, then my raised hand, the candleholder still clutched in my fingers.

"Put that down." His voice was flat.

I lowered it.

"Someone tried to enter your room."

"I know."

"Who was it?"

Lorenzo looked down the hallway, his expression unreadable.

"I suggest you don't ask questions you're not ready to hear."

He turned and walked away.

I stood in the doorway, my body still trembling, my heart still pounding, the cold from the hallway seeping into my skin.

A sharp knock at the door woke me the next morning.

I froze as Lorenzo's warning echoed in my mind.

Always lock your door.

I hesitated, waiting for another knock, but none came.

After a long moment, I opened the door. The hallway was empty. My gaze dropped to a small black box resting on the floor.

Taking a slow breath, I picked up the box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a single bullet and a folded black card.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded it.

“The game has only just begun. You survived your first night. Now let’s see if you can survive the remaining 364.”