Kneel For Me

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, lies and fake smiles. Champagne flowed. Diamonds flashed. Laughter echoed like nothing rotten existed beneath the city’s polished surface. Alessia Romano hated events like this. They were performances — politicians shaking hands with criminals in tailored suits. Men who destroyed lives by day and donated to orphanages by night. All were fake in the eyes of Alessia. And then the room shifted. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. But it changed. The whispers started first. “DeMarco is here.” Her fingers tightened around her champagne glass. Luca DeMarco. The heir to a powerful and world leading criminal empire her father had been trying to dismantle for three years. She didn’t look at him immediately. She refused to give him that satisfaction. But she felt him. The weight of his presence. The calm before violence. When she finally turned— He was already watching her. Tall. Impeccably dressed in a black suit that fit like sin. Dark hair slicked back. He has a cold demeanor. His gaze didn’t roam over her body like other men did. It assessed, calculated , owned and tried gauging if she was worth it or not. She held his stare. A silent challenge. He smiled slightly. And began walking toward her. Every step made like he owned the place . Confident. Certain. People moved out of his path without realizing they were doing it. This was a man no one dared to annoy but ladies lust over him from afar. By the time he stopped in front of her, the music felt distant. “Alessia Romano,” he said smoothly. His voice was deep, calm and assertive.“You look disappointed.” Aren’t you enjoying yourself? He asked like he truly cared which made Alessia tighten her fist. She lifted her gaze. “I was enjoying my evening.” “And now?” “Now I’m wondering which charity you’re pretending to care about tonight.” A pause. Then — amusement. “I admire your bravery.” “I’m not brave,” she replied calmly. “I just don’t scare easily nor back down.” His eyes darkened slightly. “No?” he murmured. He stepped closer — not touching — but close enough that she could smell his cologne. Something expensive. Dangerous. “Your father,” he said quietly, “is making a mistake.” “My father believes in justice.” “Your father believes he can put me in a cage.” Her heartbeat quickened — but her face stayed calm. “And can’t he?” Luca tilted his head slightly. For a moment, they looked almost intimate. Like lovers. Not enemies. Then he leaned closer, his voice lowering. “Tell him to drop the case.” “No.” His jaw tightened — just slightly. “Tell him,” Luca repeated, “or he will lose more than a trial.” She swallowed. Refused to step back. “Is that a threat?” He studied her for a long moment. Then— Very softly. Very deliberately. “Kneel for me,” he said. “And I’ll reconsider ruining him first.” Silence. The air between them turned electric. Alessia stared at him. Then she laughed. Not nervous. Not forced. Genuine disbelief. “You think I would kneel to you?” she asked. His eyes burned now. “I don’t think,” he replied calmly. “I decide.” She stepped forward instead of back. Close enough that her shoulder brushed his chest. “Then here’s my decision,” she whispered. And she slapped him. The sound cracked through the balcony doors. A few heads turned. Luca didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. His face slowly turned back to her. There was no anger. That was worse. There was interest. “You have no idea,” he said quietly, “what you’ve just started.” Her heart raced. “Good,” she replied. “I was getting bored.” For the first time — Luca DeMarco smiled. And it wasn’t kind.