Chapter 2:Luciano De Luca
1450 Words
The guard didn’t wait for her answer.
“Now,” he repeated.
Seraphina slowly rose from the velvet booth, the senator’s nervous stare clinging to her like sweat.
Around them, Velvet Eden had not fully recovered from Luciano De Luca’s arrival.
The music still played, but softer now. Careful.
Even the pianist near the lounge bar looked tense, fingers slipping once across the keys before quickly correcting the mistake. Waitresses moved faster than before, heads lowered, heels clicking sharply against black marble floors.
Fear had changed the rhythm of the building.
Seraphina smoothed her gold dress once before following the guard through the crowded lounge.
She felt Luciano before she looked at him again.
The strange heaviness in the air returned instantly.
He stood near the far side of the club beside a private staircase roped off for high-profile guests. Men surrounded him in dark tailored suits, speaking quietly into earpieces while scanning the room with cold eyes.
But Luciano himself barely moved.
One hand rested inside his pocket.
The other held a glass of untouched whiskey.
Black suit.
Black gloves.
Silver watch catching dim red light.
He looked too calm for a man everyone feared.
That was the frightening part.
Seraphina kept walking.
Don’t stare.
Don’t slow down.
Don’t attract attention.
But her body betrayed her anyway.
Her pulse stumbled the closer she got.
She could feel his gaze slide toward her again.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
The guard stopped beside the private staircase and motioned upward. “Madame Katarina’s waiting.”
Seraphina nodded once and climbed.
The music downstairs faded gradually beneath her heels while the upper hallway swallowed her in silence. Thick crimson carpets softened every footstep. Gold-framed paintings lined the walls—beautiful women with dead-looking eyes.
Velvet Eden liked decorating itself with mirrors.
At the end of the hallway stood double black doors guarded by two armed men.
One opened the door without speaking.
Heat rolled over Seraphina immediately.
Madame Katarina’s office smelled like roses left too long in water.
Sweet.
Rotten.
Heavy.
The woman herself stood beside the fireplace holding a cigarette between jeweled fingers. Smoke curled around her sharp cheekbones while amber silk draped elegantly across her thin body.
Katarina always dressed like mourning wrapped in diamonds.
Her pale eyes lifted toward Seraphina’s reflection in the mirror first before turning fully toward her.
“There she is.”
Seraphina lowered her gaze automatically. “You wanted to see me.”
Katarina stepped closer slowly, heels clicking against dark wood floors.
“You caused quite a scene downstairs.”
Seraphina’s stomach tightened. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.” Katarina smiled faintly. “That’s what makes men lose their minds over you.”
The cigarette glowed softly between her fingers.
Seraphina stayed quiet.
Katarina circled her once, examining her appearance carefully like inspecting expensive merchandise.
“The gold was the right choice tonight,” she murmured. “He noticed you immediately.”
Seraphina’s throat tightened slightly.
“He?”
Katarina stopped beside her shoulder.
“Luciano De Luca.”
Even hearing his name spoken aloud felt strange.
Dangerous.
Katarina inhaled slowly from her cigarette before continuing.
“He rarely comes to places like this.”
“Then why is he here?”
A small silence followed.
The older woman smiled without warmth. “Business.”
Something in the way she said it made Seraphina’s skin prickle.
Katarina moved toward the bar cart near the fireplace and poured herself champagne. The ice clinked softly against crystal.
“You know who he is?” she asked.
Seraphina shook her head carefully.
Katarina looked genuinely surprised for half a second.
Then amused.
“How sheltered you are despite everything.”
The woman took a slow sip before speaking again.
“Luciano De Luca owns half the city.”
“Lots of men own things.”
Katarina’s smile sharpened.
“Yes. But Luciano owns people.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
Seraphina remembered the way the lounge had gone silent when he entered.
The guards.
The fear.
The senator nearly trembling beside her.
Katarina crossed one leg over the other as she sat near the fireplace.
“He’s dangerous in ways men here only pretend to be dangerous.” Smoke slipped past her lips slowly. “Politicians fear scandals. Gangsters fear prison. Luciano De Luca fears nothing.”
Seraphina swallowed quietly.
“And tonight,” Katarina continued, “he specifically requested privacy upstairs.”
A knot formed low in Seraphina’s stomach.
“You’re sending someone to him.”
Katarina’s gaze settled fully on her.
“I’m sending you.”
Silence.
The fire crackled softly behind them.
Downstairs, bass trembled faintly beneath the floorboards while distant male laughter echoed upward through vents.
Seraphina suddenly became aware of her heartbeat.
Slow.
Heavy.
“No.”
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Katarina’s expression hardened instantly.
“What did you say?”
Seraphina stepped back carefully. “Please send another girl.”
The slap came so fast her vision flashed white.
Pain exploded across her cheek.
Her heel slipped slightly against polished wood before she caught herself.
Katarina grabbed her chin hard enough to bruise.
“You embarrass me once tonight and I will personally remind you where I found you.”
Seraphina tasted blood inside her mouth.
The older woman leaned closer, perfume thick as poison.
“You should feel honored,” Katarina whispered. “Men have died trying to sit at Luciano De Luca’s table.”
Seraphina slowly pulled her face away.
Her cheek burned.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Want?” Katarina laughed softly. “Girls like you don’t survive by wanting.”
The words settled deep because they were true.
Katarina crushed her cigarette into a crystal tray before walking toward the window overlooking the city.
“Do you know what powerful men love most?” she asked quietly.
Seraphina stayed silent.
“They love untouched things.” Katarina glanced back toward her. “Not virgins. Those are easy to find.”
Her lips curled slightly.
“No. Men like Luciano become obsessed with things that look broken beautifully.”
Seraphina’s stomach twisted.
Katarina walked back toward her again, adjusting one of the straps slipping from Seraphina’s shoulder gently this time.
Almost motherly.
Which somehow felt worse.
“You walk into that suite,” Katarina said softly, “and you smile.”
Seraphina stared at the floor.
“You pour his drink.”
“You sit where he tells you.”
“You speak sweetly.”
“And if Luciano De Luca touches you…”
Katarina’s fingers tightened briefly against her shoulder.
“You let him.”
The room fell silent again.
Seraphina focused on the sound of rain beginning softly outside the windows.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She suddenly wished she were anywhere else.
Anywhere.
Katarina moved toward her desk and pressed a button near the intercom. “Prepare Luciano’s private suite.”
A voice answered immediately.
“Yes, Madame.”
Seraphina’s palms felt cold now.
Not because she feared men.
Fear implied surprise.
And men had stopped surprising her years ago.
But something about Luciano De Luca unsettled her differently.
Maybe it was his stillness.
Most dangerous men were loud about it.
Luciano didn’t need to be.
Katarina approached her one final time and brushed a thumb beneath Seraphina’s reddened cheek where the slap landed.
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m cold.”
“No,” Katarina murmured knowingly. “You’re afraid.”
Seraphina looked away first.
A knock interrupted the silence.
One of the guards opened the office door slightly.
“The suite is ready.”
Katarina nodded.
Then she looked at Seraphina with slow satisfaction.
“Go make sure the devil enjoys his evening.”
Seraphina’s chest tightened painfully.
The guard stepped aside.
The hallway beyond looked darker now somehow.
Longer.
She forced her legs to move anyway.
One step.
Then another.
The private suites occupied the highest floor of Velvet Eden, hidden far above the music and drunken laughter below. The elevator ride upward felt suffocatingly quiet except for the soft hum of machinery and the rapid beating of her own heart.
When the doors finally slid open, silence greeted her completely.
No music.
No voices.
Just thick carpet beneath her heels and dim golden lighting stretching endlessly ahead.
At the very end of the hallway stood a pair of black doors.
Two armed men waited outside them.
Luciano’s men.
One glanced toward her briefly before opening the suite door without a word.
Warm amber light spilled into the hallway.
Seraphina’s breath caught.
Then she stepped inside.
The doors closed behind her softly.
And across the massive suite—
Luciano De Luca slowly lifted his eyes toward her.
- Writer
