Chapter 4

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💋 Chapter Four — “Secrets and Sins” POV: Ariana Genovese | Word Count: ~1240 | Dark Mafia Romance âž» The cafĂ© was quiet, but the silence was never safe in this part of the city. Every table was occupied by men with guns tucked in their waistbands, whispers hidden behind espresso cups. No one spoke loudly. No one looked too long. Except Lucas Anvordas. He sprawled across from her in a velvet booth like he owned the world. Which, technically, he did — or at least what was left of it after his parents were gunned down in front of him at sixteen. Black shirt. Silver rings. A half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Ariana knew that look well. It was the one men wore when they were too young to be this dangerous. He studied her like she was about to break. “I know that face,” he said. “That’s the ‘I did something I shouldn’t have, but it felt too good to stop’ face.” Ariana stared into her untouched drink. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.” Lucas raised a brow. “Ah. Now I’m interested. Who was it? Don’t say Enzo, I’ll have to shoot him on principle.” She didn’t laugh. Her lips pressed together. Lucas leaned forward slowly, his smirk fading. “Who?” She hesitated. Then whispered, “Matteo.” Silence. Only the quiet clink of silverware and the soft hum of a piano behind them. Lucas blinked. “Matteo
 De Luca?” A nod. His mouth parted slightly, and for once, the devil in him looked genuinely stunned. “Your stepfather?” Her fingers tightened around the cup. “He’s not my father.” “No, he’s not,” Lucas said, still processing. “But damn, Ariana
” She let out a breath. “I know.” “Tell me everything.” His voice dropped, lower now, like they were sharing state secrets. “Start from the top. Don’t hold back.” She looked out the window. The city blurred beyond the rain-streaked glass. Then she turned back to him, eyes raw and honest. “I’ve wanted him for years, Lucas. Since before I even understood what that meant. He’s always been cold, untouchable, like nothing in the world could shake him. And that made me want him more.” Lucas didn’t interrupt. Just listened. “I used to imagine it,” she continued, voice barely above a whisper. “What it would feel like to have him touch me. To have him look at me like I was more than just
 a stepdaughter. Like a woman. His.” Her voice shook. “I’d lie awake at night, thinking about his hands. The way he moves. The way he says my name like it doesn’t mean anything, but his eyes say everything. I wanted him inside me for so long I thought I was going insane. I’d close my eyes and picture it—his mouth on my neck, my legs wrapped around him, me moaning his name like I was the only thing he’d ever claim.” Lucas sat back, eyes dark with something unreadable. “I never told anyone,” Ariana said. “Not even my mother, before she died. I knew it was wrong. But I didn’t care. And now
” “Now?” Lucas pressed gently. She looked at him, eyes glittering. “Now I’ve had him. Just once. He was drugged — aphrodisiac. Some bastard tried to poison him. I got to him in time, but he was—” her voice broke, “he was out of control. Not violent. Just
 starved.” She bit her lip, chest rising fast. “He touched me like I was salvation. Made me come like I was his obsession. But when it was over, he went cold. Pretended it didn’t mean anything.” Lucas swore under his breath. “Idiot.” “He’s trying to protect me,” she said bitterly. “But I don’t want protection. I want him. All of him. The anger, the guilt, the twisted devotion. I want to ruin him like he’s ruined me.” Lucas leaned in, elbows on the table. “You love him.” A nod. “And you want him.” Another nod. Slower. Guiltier. Lucas’s eyes softened — just barely. “Then stop waiting for him to break. Make him. Seduce him.” Ariana blinked. “What?” Lucas’s grin returned, sharp and amused. “You heard me. You want the king, you don’t ask for the throne — you take it.” “He’ll hate me.” “No,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “He already loves you. That’s why he’s running. Men like Matteo don’t fear bullets. They fear losing control. And you, Ariana? You’re the only one who makes him lose it.” She swallowed hard. Lucas leaned closer. “You want him inside you again? Wrapping his hands in your hair? Whispering filth in your ear while he fights not to love you harder than he already does?” Ariana shivered. Heat pooled low in her stomach. “Then don’t play the good girl,” Lucas said. “Play the temptation. Dress like a weapon. Touch him like it’s accidental. Talk back. Tease him. Make him want you until it drives him insane. And when he snaps? Be ready.” Ariana stared down at her drink. Then slowly, smiled. “God, you’re evil.” Lucas clinked his glass to hers. “Takes one to know one.” âž» Later, when she walked out of the cafĂ©, the rain had stopped. The clouds were still thick, and the wind carried the scent of danger and gunpowder. She felt it. Something shifting. No more waiting. No more guilt. If Matteo De Luca wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him — painted in temptation, dripping in defiance, and wrapped in the kind of sin he couldn’t resist. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a Genovese. And she was going to make the devil burn.
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