Vincenzo's POV
The mirror reflected my image with an almost mocking clarity. Black trousers, sleek and tailored, hugging my legs just the right amount. The black jacket? Impeccable. It wasn't just a jacket; it was a statement. A smooth, polished statement that screamed power, control, and ambition. Perfect for tonight, or so I thought. The event was close, and I could already hear the music of the Hell Pit party thumping in the distance, reverberating through the walls of the grand estate. Everyone would be there. Everyone important. And more importantly—Lyra would be there.
I clenched my jaw as I pictured her, her delicate smile, the way her eyes seemed to light up when she was near Marcello. Damn him. It wasn’t just that I wanted to be the one in her sights, but the fact that Marcello
