the Don's heir

chapter three

Fire In The Dark

Club Inferno smelled of spilled liquor, perfume, and secrets. Friday night meant the floor was packed, and Clara Bennett found herself moving through the crowd with a tray of drinks, her body taut with nerves. Every laugh, every shout, every clink of glass reminded her that at any moment someone might look too closely, ask the wrong question, and blow her cover.

And then there was him.

Alessandro Moretti sat in the VIP section with Luca and some business person,his presence commanding without effort. He wasn’t drinking much, wasn’t laughing. His eyes scanned the room with the precision of a hawk. He didn’t miss things—Clara knew that by now. Which made her job infinitely harder.

“Whiskey, neat,” one of the men barked as she approached.

She placed the drink down, nodding. But Alessandro’s gaze snapped to her, holding her in place like a spotlight.

“Clara,” he said evenly. “Sit.”

The man frowned. “Boss, she’s—”

Alessandro raised one hand, silencing him without a word. Clara felt her breath catch. Refusing him wasn’t an option, but accepting meant stepping deeper into the lion’s den. She set the tray aside and slid into the empty seat beside him.

He leaned in close, his voice just loud enough to cut through the music. “You’ve been here what, two weeks?”

“Almost.” She forced her tone to stay casual.

“And you haven’t told me why you’re really here.”

Her throat tightened. He knows. He knows.

But she smiled, c*****g her head. “Maybe I just needed a job.”

Alessandro’s eyes gleamed with something dangerous. “Pretty girls who lie usually want more than tips.”

The table went quiet. Luca raised his brow, studying her as though she were already a corpse waiting for permission.

Clara fought to steady her hands under the table. “Maybe I like the music,” she countered.

For the first time, Alessandro chuckled. It wasn’t warm—it was sharp, a blade disguised as laughter. “Careful. You’ll make me think you enjoy my company.”

“Would that be so bad?” she asked before she could stop herself.

His expression stilled. For one heartbeat, two, he just looked at her—like he was dissecting her soul. Then he leaned back, signaling the bartender with a flick of his fingers.

“Bring her a drink,” he ordered. “On the house.”

---

Later, when her shift ended, Clara found herself cornered near the exit by Bianca Moretti—the don’s daughter.

Bianca was barely twenty, a wild beauty with raven hair and restless eyes, dressed like she was heading to a runway instead of a mob-owned club. She blew smoke from her cigarette and smiled slyly.

“So you’re the new girl everyone’s talking about.”

Clara adjusted her bag nervously. “I’m just working.”

“Uh-huh.” Bianca exhaled smoke in her face, not cruelly but playfully. “My brother doesn’t look at ‘just waitresses’ the way he looks at you.”

Clara froze. “He doesn’t look at me any way.”

Bianca laughed, a musical sound edged with mischief. “You’re either brave or stupid. Maybe both. Either way, you’ll fit right in.” She flicked her cigarette away and winked. “See you around, Clara.”

Clara walked into the cool night air, her chest tight.

She had come here to expose Alessandro Moretti, not to fall under his spell—or his sister’s scrutiny. But the web was tightening, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t already tangled in it.

Back in the VIP booth, Luca watched Alessandro silently. The other men had drifted away, leaving the two of them.

“You’re letting her too close,” Luca said flatly.

Alessandro swirled the amber in his glass, unfazed. “I want to see how far she’ll go.”

“You mean before she betrays you?”

Alessandro’s gaze darkened. “Everyone betrays you eventually, Luca. The trick is finding out when. And how much it costs.”

Luca shook his head, exhaling smoke. “You sound like your father.”

A long silence stretched between them. Alessandro finally set his glass down, his voice low and dangerous.

“No. I sound worse.