BLOOD AND DESIRE

CHAPTER 1 New York City – Midnight The Black Crown loomed over the city like a king surveying his domain. A fortress disguised as a luxury club, its mirrored windows reflected the neon skyline, hiding the secrets and sins whispered within. Inside, behind a wall of elite security, the Ricci brothers sat in their private lounge—a lavish, dimly lit space where power dictated the air. Damien Ricci leaned back in a leather chair, a glass of bourbon resting between his fingers. His sharp blue eyes were unreadable, assessing the city beyond the windows. From here, he could see the empire their family had built—casinos, nightclubs, business fronts hiding their true operations. The Ricci family didn’t just rule the underworld. They owned it. Across from him, Adrian Ricci sprawled on the couch, boots propped up on a marble table. He twirled a knife between his fingers, flashing a smirk that never quite reached his eyes. Where Damien was cold precision, Adrian was reckless fire—a man who thrived on chaos, the kind of soldier you sent when you didn’t want survivors. “Hell of a night,” Adrian mused, lazily flipping his knife. “Another club opening, another bag of cash. You ever get bored of winning?” Damien didn’t answer immediately. He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes locked on the city below. Winning wasn’t the goal. Survival was. Before he could respond, the lounge doors swung open, and Enzo Ferraro, one of their senior enforcers, stepped in. His usual swagger was gone. His face was tight. Sweating. This wasn’t good news. “Boss,” Enzo said, voice clipped. “We have a problem.” Damien didn’t even blink. “Then fix it.” Enzo swallowed, hesitating. That was the first red flag. “It’s DeLuca,” he said finally. “His men intercepted our shipment at the docks.” Silence. Adrian let out a low chuckle, flipping his knife once more before slamming it into the table. “Lorenzo DeLuca is either insane or suicidal.” The DeLuca family had been trying to claw their way into Ricci territory for years. But this? Hijacking a Ricci shipment wasn’t just a declaration of war. It was a death sentence. Damien exhaled slowly. “How many of our men?” “Two dead, one missing.” A flicker of tension rippled across Damien’s jaw. Adrian ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing dramatically. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did say we should’ve gutted Lorenzo last year.” “There’s more,” Enzo said. Damien’s gaze sharpened. “They weren’t just after the shipment,” Enzo continued. “They were after… her.” A slow, deadly pause filled the room. Adrian frowned. “Who the hell is ‘her’?” And that was when Selene Moretti walked into their lives. --- One Hour Earlier – The Docks Selene moved like a shadow, pressing herself against the steel of a shipping container, her breath controlled, her pulse hammering beneath the surface. She had made one mistake tonight—driving home alone. The black SUVs had appeared out of nowhere, boxing in her car before she could react. The men had been masked, fast, professional. No threats. No explanations. Just action. Now, standing beneath the floodlights of the dock, she faced them—six men with DeLuca insignias stitched onto their bulletproof vests. The leader, a broad-shouldered man with a scar slicing through his cheek, circled her like a predator sizing up his prey. “You know what your problem is?” he mused, flicking open a switchblade. “You think you’re invisible.” Selene met his gaze with a cool, unreadable stare. “And you think you’re untouchable.” Scarface smirked. “Lorenzo DeLuca wants you. That makes you valuable.” Valuable. The word curdled in her stomach. Selene had spent years keeping her past buried, ensuring no one connected her to the Ricci family. But no matter how deep she dug, the past always had claws. Scarface stepped closer, his breath hot against her cheek. “You’re coming with us.” Selene was calculating. If she ran, she’d be dead before she took three steps. If she fought, she’d be outnumbered. But if she stalled— A gunshot split the night. Then another. Chaos exploded as bodies hit the ground, men dropping before they even had time to react. The sound of suppressed gunfire sliced through the air, the flash of muzzles lighting up the darkness. Through the smoke, she saw him. Damien Ricci. He moved like a phantom, silencer in hand, executing men with clean, precise shots. Behind him, Adrian fought like a man who enjoyed the violence, grinning as he slammed a blade into another’s throat. Two minutes. That’s all it took. Selene lifted her gaze just as Damien approached, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, in a voice that left no room for argument, he said— “You’re coming with us.” --- Back at The Black Crown The tension in the Ricci brothers’ private lounge was thick enough to choke on. Selene sat on the plush leather couch, posture straight, her wrists resting lightly on her lap. Across from her, Damien watched her like a hunter deciding whether to keep or kill his prey. Adrian leaned back, studying her with lazy amusement. “You gonna tell us why DeLuca wants you so badly, or do we have to start guessing?” Selene met his gaze without hesitation. “Maybe he just has bad taste in women.” Adrian laughed, low and amused. Damien, however, wasn’t in the mood for games. “We don’t protect people for free,” he said, voice cool. “You’re going to tell us what’s going on.” Selene exhaled slowly. She had two choices—lie, or tell them the truth. Before she could decide, Adrian suddenly stood, pulling a knife from his jacket and hurling it across the room. The blade embedded itself into the wood an inch from Enzo’s head. Enzo stiffened, hand instinctively going to his gun. Adrian smirked. “We’ve got company.” Damien’s phone vibrated on the table. A live security feed lit up the screen. Outside, a dozen black SUVs had just pulled up to the club. Lorenzo DeLuca wasn’t waiting. He had come for Selene. --- Damien’s gaze flicked back to Selene, his expression unreadable. “Congratulations,” he said. “You just became the most valuable woman in New York.” Selene swallowed hard. She had no idea if that was a blessing or a curse.