Rain lashed the city. Lorenzo crushed his cigarette and watched, as if passing judgment.Then, the silence was shattered by a phone call. Marco’s low, gravelly voice crackled through.

“Boss, she’s here. Alone.”

Lorenzo crushed the cigarette, a half—smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Make sure no one disturbs us tonight.”

Two men in dark suits exchanged a look and disappeared into the corridor, their hands brushing the guns beneath their jackets.

Across the city, Amelia Vaughn gripped the handle of her bag as she stepped out of a taxi into the rain. The umbrella barely shielded her, but she didn’t care.

She looked up at the towering Moretti Tower, the place she’d spent an entire month trying to get an interview with him.

A dinner invitation from the man she was investigating—light, marble, abyss.

Amelia thought she was prepared, until the elevator opened and reality stepped out in a black suit. The lobby shimmered with gold and marble.

No one is ever ready to face Lorenzo Moretti.

“Miss Vaughn.” His voice came low and deliberate. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

Amelia paused. He had just called her “you” in a tone far too intimate for two strangers.

“I thought this was just a private interview. Address me properly, Mr. Moretti.”

“No, Amelia.” His low chuckle brushed against her nerves. His eyes flickered briefly over her flushed cheeks. “Tonight, it’s dinner. And you’re my guest of honor.”

They sat across from each other in the penthouse suite, glass walls revealing the glittering city below. Candlelight flickered between them, and over the rim of wine glasses, the silence pulled tight.

Amelia could hear her heart pounding faster than usual. She wasn’t afraid, not exactly but she couldn’t stop herself from being drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame.

“You write beautifully,” he said. “Do you know words can kill faster than a bullet?”

Amelia set her glass down, eyes steady.

“If the truth hurts, they should live more honestly.”

Lorenzo laughed at a low, rough sound that made the air feel heavier. “You really are as dangerous as they say, Amelia Vaughn.”

She didn’t reply. She only looked at him. In that instant, their eyes locked and something shifted. Logic slipped away. His scent mingled with her breath—warm, intoxicating.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered.

“Not much,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her lips for a heartbeat. “Only for you to understand… once you step into my world, there’s no way out.”

City lights carved his face into planes of shadow and steel. His eyes were both threatening and pleading, making it hard for her to breathe. And in that moment, Amelia realized the real danger wasn’t being afraid of him. It was wanting him.

Lorenzo turned toward the window, his voice low.

“My brother said—touch fire, get burned..”

“And what about you?” she asked softly.

He looked back, lips curving into a cold smile.

“I was born from fire, Amelia.”

The rain kept falling outside, but inside, the room grew impossibly still. Only his gaze and her breath remained colliding in the narrow space between them.

This was no longer an interview. It was an invitation from the Devil himself.

She came for an interview. The Devil interviewed her heart.