CHAPTER 5 — Blood on Marble Floors
1408 Words
The senator’s grip tightened painfully around Seraphina’s wrist.
“You’re talking to me when I’m speaking to you,” he snapped.
His face glistened beneath the red velvet lighting, whiskey staining his breath sour and heavy. Sweat gathered near his hairline despite the cool air drifting through Velvet Eden.
Seraphina tried pulling her arm back carefully.
Not too fast.
Not aggressive.
Men like Senator Valente hated resistance almost as much as humiliation.
“You’re drunk,” she whispered softly. “Please let go.”
The jazz music still played in the background, but quieter now. Nervous. Even the pianist near the bar had slowed uncertainly, fingers trembling slightly over ivory keys.
The senator laughed harshly.
“You think you can ignore me because some criminal stared at you for five minutes?”
His nails bit deeper into her skin.
Pain flared sharply through the bruises already darkening beneath her sleeve.
Seraphina inhaled carefully through her nose.
Smile.
Stay calm.
Survive.
That was the rule.
Always survive first.
Around them, guests pretended not to notice.
Women lowered their eyes.
Men focused too hard on drinks.
Servers suddenly disappeared toward safer corners of the lounge.
Nobody wanted involvement.
Not when Luciano De Luca stood watching.
Seraphina slowly lifted her gaze again.
He hadn’t moved.
Black suit.
Black gloves.
Gray eyes colder than winter steel.
But the stillness around him had changed.
Something violent lived inside it now.
Even his men noticed.
The guards surrounding Luciano subtly shifted positions, shoulders tightening beneath tailored jackets while one of them quietly guided nearby guests farther back.
The senator didn’t notice any of it.
Drunk men rarely noticed danger until it touched them directly.
“You girls forget yourselves too easily,” he muttered, jerking Seraphina closer again. “I paid enough money to own your—”
A voice cut cleanly through the lounge.
“Take your hand off her.”
Quiet.
Calm.
Terrifying.
The senator froze.
Not because Luciano raised his voice.
Because he didn’t.
The entire club went silent so quickly the chandelier crystals could be heard trembling faintly overhead.
Seraphina’s heartbeat stumbled painfully inside her chest.
Luciano walked toward them slowly across the marble floor.
Every step measured.
Controlled.
His polished black shoes barely made noise against the floor, but somehow the sound still echoed through the room.
Nobody breathed.
The senator swallowed visibly now, though pride still poisoned his expression.
“She’s working,” he scoffed loudly. “Mind your business.”
Luciano stopped directly in front of him.
Tall enough that the senator instinctively leaned back slightly.
The air felt colder near Luciano.
Dangerously cold.
His eyes dropped toward the senator’s hand crushing Seraphina’s wrist.
Then slowly lifted again.
“Last warning.”
The senator laughed nervously this time. “Do you know who I am?”
Luciano’s face remained expressionless.
“Yes.”
“And you still think you can threaten me?”
“No.” Luciano tilted his head slightly. “I think I can kill you.”
Silence crashed across the lounge.
Somewhere near the back of the club, a glass shattered.
Seraphina’s stomach twisted sharply.
The senator finally released her wrist.
Not willingly.
Fear forced his fingers open.
She stepped backward immediately, rubbing the aching skin gently while trying to steady her breathing.
But Senator Valente wasn’t smart enough to stop.
Men like him never were.
“You mafia animals think you own everything,” he spat.
Luciano said nothing.
The senator straightened his expensive suit jacket aggressively, trying to reclaim dignity in front of the watching crowd.
“You come into civilized places waving guns around like—”
He never finished the sentence.
The gunshot exploded through Velvet Eden so loudly several women screamed instantly.
Seraphina flinched violently.
The senator’s body jerked backward.
Then collapsed.
A heavy, horrifying sound against polished marble.
Blood spread quickly beneath him.
Dark.
Thick.
Shocking against the white-veined floor.
For one frozen second, nobody moved.
The smell hit next.
Gunpowder.
Blood.
Whiskey.
Seraphina stared down at the body in disbelief while ringing filled her ears sharply.
Luciano lowered the silenced pistol calmly.
One of his guards immediately stepped forward, taking the weapon from his gloved hand without speaking.
Still no one moved.
Not the guards.
Not the servers.
Not the women trembling near the stage.
Velvet Eden held its breath completely.
Seraphina’s pulse pounded so hard it hurt.
She had seen violence before.
Too much of it.
But never like this.
Not so casually.
Not with everyone watching.
The senator’s dead eyes stared upward toward the chandeliers now, blood slowly creeping across marble beneath his expensive suit.
Luciano looked down at the corpse without emotion.
Then his gaze shifted toward Seraphina.
She realized suddenly she was shaking.
Tiny tremors moving through her hands.
Her knees.
Her lungs.
Luciano noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
His expression changed slightly.
Not softer.
But attentive.
Like he hated seeing fear directed at him.
That frightened her more.
Behind them, hurried footsteps clicked sharply against marble.
Madame Katarina appeared from the upper staircase dressed in silver silk, diamonds glittering coldly against pale skin.
The moment she saw the body, her face tightened carefully before smoothing again.
Control.
Katarina lived on control.
“What happened here?” she asked calmly.
Nobody answered.
Luciano didn’t even look at her.
Katarina descended the remaining stairs slowly, heels echoing through the dead silence. Her sharp gaze flickered briefly toward Seraphina’s reddened wrist before landing on the blood spreading across her floor.
Annoyance flashed through her eyes.
Not grief.
Never grief.
“Senator Valente was an important client,” she said carefully.
Luciano finally turned toward her.
“And now he’s dead.”
The simplicity of the statement chilled the room further.
Katarina folded her arms lightly across her waist. “You’ve created unnecessary attention tonight.”
Luciano stepped closer to Seraphina instead.
Not touching.
Just close enough that she felt trapped inside his presence again.
“She was hurt,” he said quietly.
Katarina’s lips curved faintly. “And?”
The word echoed wrong.
Ugly.
Something dark shifted behind Luciano’s eyes instantly.
Seraphina saw it happen.
Violence.
Pure and immediate.
One of Luciano’s men subtly moved closer, like he already expected bloodshed again.
Katarina noticed too.
But she smiled anyway.
Dangerously confident.
“She’s one of my girls,” Katarina continued smoothly. “Clients become rough sometimes. That’s hardly unusual.”
Seraphina’s stomach turned.
Luciano looked at Katarina for a long moment.
Too long.
The fire in his eyes quieted suddenly into something colder.
More controlled.
Which somehow felt worse.
Then his gaze slid back toward Seraphina’s bruised wrist again.
The marks were fully visible now beneath torn silk.
Fingerprints dark against pale skin.
The entire lounge seemed to notice them all at once.
Whispers spread quietly.
Katarina stepped toward Seraphina quickly, grabbing her arm with painted nails digging sharply into skin.
“Go upstairs,” she ordered tightly.
Pain flashed across Seraphina’s face before she could hide it.
Luciano saw that too.
And the room changed again.
His voice lowered dangerously when he spoke next.
“Take your hand off her.”
Katarina slowly released Seraphina’s arm.
The silence afterward felt suffocating.
Luciano looked between the bruises on Seraphina’s skin and Katarina’s perfectly manicured hands.
Understanding settled across his expression instantly.
Not shock.
Recognition.
As though he’d expected it.
Katarina straightened her shoulders. “You’re overstepping.”
“No.” Luciano’s voice remained calm. “You did.”
Thunder cracked loudly outside the club windows.
Rain hammered the glass harder.
Somewhere behind them, one of the younger girls quietly began crying.
Nobody comforted her.
Nobody dared move.
Luciano reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket slowly.
Every guard inside Velvet Eden tensed immediately.
But instead of another weapon—
he removed a folded handkerchief.
Black silk.
He stepped toward Seraphina once more and held it out toward her.
Only then did she realize blood from the senator had splattered lightly across her gold dress.
Tiny crimson drops near her thigh.
Her fingers hesitated before taking the handkerchief carefully.
Luciano’s gaze stayed on her face.
“You’re shaking.”
She looked down quickly. “I’m fine.”
Another lie.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Then he turned toward the room.
Toward Katarina.
Toward the guards.
Toward every terrified face pretending not to stare.
When Luciano spoke again, his voice carried through Velvet Eden effortlessly.
Cold.
Final.
Absolute.
“She belongs to me now.”
- Writer
