A WOMAN WORTH WAR
955 Words
CHAPTER 2
The Black Crown – Midnight
The Black Crown was more than a nightclub; it was a fortress hidden beneath chandeliers and velvet-lined booths. Every glass of champagne poured, every whispered deal made, ran through the veins of the Ricci empire.
On the surface, it was an exclusive haven for New York’s elite. But beneath the surface? It was a kingdom.
And tonight, war was knocking at its doors.
From inside the VIP lounge, Damien Ricci leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the fleet of black SUVs pull up outside. The DeLuca family.
His grip on his whiskey glass tightened.
Across the room, Adrian Ricci flicked his lighter open and shut, lounging against the bar. His sharp gaze tracked the security monitors, where armed men in dark suits stepped onto the sidewalk in perfect formation.
The DeLuca family wasn’t here to party.
And the reason for that sat across from them.
Selene Moretti.
She was poised, controlled—too calm for a woman whose past had just caught up to her.
Damien turned to her, his voice edged in steel.
“You knew he’d come.”
Selene exhaled. “Yes.”
Adrian smirked. “And here I thought you just had that effect on men.”
Selene didn’t rise to the bait. Her gaze stayed locked on Damien’s.
“He won’t leave without me.”
Damien studied her, his mind running through the logical course of action.
Handing her over would prevent a war.
But Damien Ricci didn’t do logical.
He did ruthless.
Setting his glass down, he spoke with lethal calm.
“Then let’s make sure he doesn’t leave at all.”
---
Outside The Black Crown
Lorenzo DeLuca stepped out of his SUV, adjusting his cufflinks with precision.
The air was thick with rain and tension. His men—twenty in total—formed a loose perimeter, eyes scanning the entrance. The neon lights of the city flickered off the wet pavement, giving the moment a surreal glow.
The club doors swung open.
Damien and Adrian Ricci stepped out.
Two brothers—both kings in their own right, standing before a rival empire.
Lorenzo smiled, slow and calculated. “Damien.”
Damien’s gaze was unreadable. “Lorenzo.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Lorenzo took a step forward. “You have something that belongs to me.”
Damien’s lips twitched. “No. But I have someone you want.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
“Send her out,” he said evenly, “and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Adrian let out a slow, mocking chuckle. “Or, hear me out—you walk away, and we pretend you didn’t just dig your own grave.”
Lorenzo’s gaze flickered to Adrian before settling back on Damien.
“You don’t want this war, Ricci.”
Damien’s expression didn’t change. “You already brought it to my doorstep.”
Another charged silence.
Then, Lorenzo smirked.
“This isn’t over.”
“No,” Damien agreed, his voice a quiet promise. “It isn’t.”
Without another word, Lorenzo turned, got into his SUV, and drove off.
It wasn’t a retreat.
It was a warning.
---
Inside The Black Crown – Aftermath
Adrian stretched. “Well, that was fun. Can we shoot him next time?”
Damien ignored him, turning back to Selene.
“Start talking.”
Selene met his gaze with unwavering calm. “About what?”
Adrian exhaled dramatically. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe about why one of the most dangerous men in New York is ready to start a war over you?”
Selene remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.
“Because I used to work for him.”
Silence.
Adrian blinked. “Well, damn.”
Damien’s fingers tapped against his glass. “In what capacity?”
Selene’s gaze darkened. “I was his fixer.”
A fixer.
Not just an errand runner—a problem solver. A ghost in the underworld.
Adrian let out a low whistle. “So you were close.”
Selene’s expression didn’t change. “Not by choice.”
Damien studied her. “And now he wants you back.”
She exhaled. “Yes.”
That was worse than if Lorenzo simply wanted her dead.
This wasn’t about revenge.
This was about possession.
---
The DeLuca Estate – 3 AM
Lorenzo stood in his dimly lit study, staring out at the sprawling city beyond his windows.
Behind him, Vincent Marchetti, his second-in-command, poured himself a drink.
“You should’ve put a bullet in his head,” Vincent said.
Lorenzo’s jaw flexed. “And start a war in the middle of Manhattan?”
Vincent smirked. “Aren’t we already at war?”
Lorenzo exhaled.
The Riccis had made their choice.
Now, it was time to remind them why no one denied him what was his.
He turned, his voice quiet and lethal.
“We’ll hit them where it hurts.”
Vincent arched a brow. “Their money?”
“No,” Lorenzo murmured. “Their family.”
---
The First Strike
Back at The Black Crown, Damien sat in his office, watching the city skyline.
His gut told him Lorenzo wouldn’t wait long to retaliate.
Then—his phone rang.
He answered.
Enzo’s voice came through, tight with urgency. “Boss, we’ve got a problem.”
Damien didn’t move. “What kind of problem?”
A pause. Then—
“It’s Marco. He’s dead.”
For a moment, there was only silence.
Adrian walked in, catching the look on Damien’s face. His smirk faded. “What happened?”
Damien didn’t answer. He already knew.
Lorenzo had made his move.
The first shot had been fired.
And now, it was their turn to strike back.
- Writer
