Crimson Loyalty

The air in Club Elysium was thick with smoke, s*x, and secrets. Nico Moretti sat in the VIP lounge, his whiskey untouched, eyes trained on the floor below like a lion watching prey. Business brought him here-neutral territory for once-in-a-decade peace talks with his most volatile rival, Dario Vega. But it wasn't Dario who walked in first. She did. Sienna Vega. She moved like sin-slow, deliberate, aware of every eye she drew. Midnight hair cascaded over bare shoulders, her dress clinging to curves with the arrogance of silk. A woman like that didn't belong in the underworld, but she didn't flinch from it either. She wore danger like perfume. Nico's jaw tightened. He hadn't expected Dario to send his wife to soften the edges of this meeting. Or maybe he had. Vega was twisted enough to parade her like a power play. But what Nico hadn't expected-what he couldn't plan for-was the way she looked at him. Not with fear. Not with flirtation. But with fire. She took the seat across from him, legs crossing slowly, deliberately. The air sizzled. "You're early," she said, voice smooth as velvet and just as dangerous. "Or impatient." "I don't waste time." His gaze didn't drop from hers. "Where's your husband?" She smiled-just barely. "On his way. He likes to make an entrance." "Then why send you first?" A pause. "Because he thinks you're predictable." "And you?" She leaned forward, just slightly. "I think you're a man who wants what he can't have." For the first time in years, Nico Moretti was caught off guard. He smiled. Dangerously. Sienna sat back, satisfied with his silence. She didn't need to win the exchange-just to strike the first blow. Dario always said Nico was all logic, no impulse. But the way his eyes flicked down to her mouth? That wasn't logic. "That's a bold dress for a business meeting," he said, finally lifting the glass of whiskey. "Funny," she murmured. "I was just thinking the same about that suit. Charcoal gray. Tailored. Tactical." She leaned in again, her perfume reaching him-dark jasmine and something smoky underneath. "You don't dress like a man coming to make peace. You dress like a man coming to take something." Nico's lips curved. "I'm not here to take. I'm here to negotiate." "You don't need to lie to me." Her voice dropped low. "You already want something that doesn't belong to you." His grip on the glass tightened just enough to make her smile. She was toying with him. And he was letting her. Because something about her didn't match the picture he'd built in his mind of Dario Vega's wife. She was too sharp, too self-possessed. She didn't flinch at power-she wielded it. "You're not just his wife," Nico said, watching her closely. "No," she agreed. "I'm the reason half of his deals go through without bloodshed. The other half..." She let the sentence hang, her lips parting just slightly. "Well. That's when I wear red." The moment cracked when a heavy hand clapped Nico's shoulder. "Moretti," Dario Vega's gravel voice rumbled. "Did my wife entertain you properly?" Sienna didn't move. She didn't even blink. But the fire in her eyes? It cooled instantly, replaced by a mask of elegance. Nico stood, turning to face the man who had ruined entire families without blinking. "She's... very compelling," Nico said, never taking his eyes off Sienna. "A dangerous diplomat." Dario laughed, arm curling around Sienna's waist. Possessive. Branded. She let him, like she was used to being displayed. But her eyes stayed locked with Nico's as she sipped his untouched whiskey. And that's when Nico knew. This wasn't just about business. This was war. And the battlefield had just shifted beneath their feet.