Episode1
685 Words
The bass throbbed through the marble walls of the underground club, the air thick with the scent of whiskey, sweat, and sin.
Lorenzo De Luca leaned against the bar, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his black mask hiding most of his sharp, predatory features.
Another night, another meaningless gathering.
He hated these masked parties — all glitter and lies — but tonight he had business. A whisper of betrayal had reached his ears, and Lorenzo wasn’t the type to let treachery breathe.
He scanned the room lazily until his gaze snagged on her.
A woman in a blood-red dress, masked like the rest, but moving like she owned the night.
She was trouble — the kind of trouble men didn’t survive.
And for the first time in months, Lorenzo felt something stir inside him. Hunger. Curiosity. A craving far more dangerous than alcohol.
She caught him staring.
Instead of shying away, she smiled — a slow, wicked curve of her lips.
Then she turned, walking toward the stairs, her hips swaying in silent invitation.
Without hesitation, Lorenzo abandoned his drink and followed.
The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the crowd, from the world.
No names.
No questions.
Just heat.
She pressed her body against his, her fingers sliding into his hair.
He caught her wrist roughly, forcing her to look at him.
“You don’t even know my name,” he growled against her ear.
“Maybe that’s why it’s better,” she whispered, breathless.
That was all the warning he got before she crushed her mouth against his.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t sweet.
It was fire — reckless and raw, igniting everything he tried so hard to keep buried.
Clothes vanished between kisses and curses.
Skin met skin.
Hands roamed freely.
It was chaos. It was war. It was the kind of madness only two broken souls could understand.
And when it was over, she curled into his side without a word, her breathing slowing, her mask discarded somewhere among the wreckage.
Lorenzo closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself forget the blood on his hands, the war outside these walls.
Just for a little while.
When he woke, dawn was bleeding through the curtains, painting the room in gray.
The woman slept soundly beside him, her bare back exposed to the cool air.
Golden strands of hair tumbled across the pillow.
Her breathing was soft, peaceful.
Lorenzo shifted carefully, intending to leave before reality crashed back in.
But then he saw it.
A mark on her inner wrist — small, delicate.
A black ink crest.
A snake wrapped around a dagger.
His blood turned to ice.
The Romano family seal.
Lorenzo sat up slowly, heart pounding in his chest.
The Romanos — his family’s mortal enemies.
The same bastards responsible for his father’s murder.
The same name he had vowed to wipe from the earth.
And he had just spent the night tangled in the sheets with one of them.
His hand curled into a fist, the urge to reach for the gun under the bed overwhelming.
Kill her.
Erase the mistake.
Finish what your family started.
But when he looked at her — really looked — he hesitated.
Her face was beautiful in the morning light, soft and unguarded.
She looked nothing like the enemies he despised.
She looked… human.
For a moment, a dangerous thought slipped into his mind.
Maybe she doesn’t even know who I am. Maybe this could be used.
The rules of war shifted in his head.
She stirred beside him, lashes fluttering open.
Warm brown eyes met his — full of confusion, innocence… and something else.
Trust.
God help him.
Lorenzo smirked, masking the storm inside him.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, voice like velvet over a blade.
She smiled sleepily, unaware of the fire she had lit.
And as Lorenzo leaned back against the headboard, watching her stretch like a satisfied cat, he made a silent vow.
I should kill her right now.
But where’s the fun in that?
No…
I think I’ll keep her instead.
- Writer
