ZAVIER

The mansion hadn't breathed easy since the attack.

Every hallway hummed with tension, men stationed at corners like statues. It was rare for my mansion to be penetrated. This was one of those days when you doubt everything.

Well, it seems to be every day to me. My home had become a fortress, and still… I don't feel safe. Not because of the enemies outside— but the ones walking freely under my roof.

I twirled the whiskey, watching it dance in the glass. I leaned against the balcony of my study, overlooking the courtyard. My eyes trailed over the men below running security sweeps.

Three nights since the gala and no leads. Just corpses, ashes, and questions.

My hand tightened around the glass of whiskey. Whoever orchestrated the attack had access. Intimate access. They knew the house, my men's shifts, the surveillance blind spots.

And the only new element in my life was her.

Alessia Petrov.

The woman who fought like she had seen war. Who didn't flinch when glass shattered and blood spilled. Who looked at me after driving a knife into a man's throat. The look she had didn't belong to a socialite bride.

No. Those were the eyes of someone trained to survive. How exposed to this world was she? One question I'd like to know the answer to.

Clearly, she was hiding something. I wasn't sure yet but it made her my savior or my threat.

A knock sounded on my door before it opened.

“Boss,” one of my men approached. "We found tampered footage of one of the east corridors. Night of the event.”

I turned my head sharply. “Show me."

He hesitated. “The footage is… partially erased. But whoever did it knew which exact wires to cut"

My jaw tightened. Someone smart. Seems I really am dealing with a rat. My anger simmered, and for a moment, all I saw was red.

“Lock down the surveillance room and send Luca to me." I growled, fighting the urge to draw blood. He all but ran out of the room. In a fit of rage, I hurled the drink at the wall beside me, the glass shattering into tiny pieces.

The door opened a few minutes later, revealing Luca. My most trusted man, friend, and the only person whose bullshit I can endure.

“Whoa… another episode?” he sighed

“Shut up," I grunted as I watched him shrug and position himself at the edge of my desk.

“Still no leads?" I asked, already frustrated.

He shook his head with an annoyed look.

“I want you to watch the Petrov girl. Her every move, what she does in her free time, then reports to me.”

" You think she's a suspect?” He raised a brow, a thing he always does when he doubts something.

" Everyone is a suspect Luca. Tell the guards positioned at her door they can leave.”

"Yes, boss,” he sighed, already headed towards the door.

" Before that. What was the training session with her like?”

He halted, fingers squeezed the doorknob before turning back to look at me. Something flashed in his eyes but was gone before I could put a name on it.

" She's skilled, adapts fast. One of my best training so far…” With that, he leaves.

The response left something biting at the back of my mind. But I wasn't striking yet. Not until I knew exactly who she was biting for.

<<<Alessia>>>

I've been staring at the half-burnt letter that lay on my bed for days. Haven't brought myself to open it. To know what's hidden inside. The truth? Or another conspiracy

Three nights. Three endless nights under Zavier Conti’s watchful calculating gaze. The mansion feels more like a prison now. Men at every door including mine. I've been locked up in here. The only chance I get to go out is during breakfast and dinner. Lunch was brought up to me here.

And all those times I get to go out, guards are right behind me.

I stared at the letter again. It's not enough, I needed more…

Proof.

Tonight, I'll get it. I waited until midnight, when the hallways thinned and the guards rotated, then I heard the retreating footsteps outside my door.

I fixed the straps of the silk night gown, not bothered about changing into something less revealing as I tiptoed towards it.

The door creaked softly as I opened it, peered out, and to my surprise, both guards were gone.

“Oh…" I whispered, guess it's time for rotations. I need to work fast before they notice I'm gone.

The faint hum of the generators drowned my footsteps as I moved through the west corridor, every motion rehearsed a thousand times.

The surveillance room was my target. A small, steel-lined chamber behind the east wing. It stored the entire mansion’s camera feed, encrypted archives, and— if I was lucky— records that could tell me how deep the Conti blood ran into my parents’ graves.

I slipped past the corner where two guards spoke in hushed tones. Turned left, two doors down. The keypad panel is blinking red.

I exhaled, steadying my hand as I slid a cloned card I'd lifted from one of Zavier's men earlier that day. The lock blinked green.

Click. Yes!

I entered, the cold air washed over me, as I scanned the room lined with active monitors that captured live feeds and shelves filled to the brim. I moved quickly, scrolling through the archives.

Then I saw it. A folder titled ELIMINATIONS – 2018.

My breath hitched.

I opened it.

My father's name was there.

Francesco Morano.

Marked: Executed – Approved by Don Conti.

The room swayed slightly, my throat burned. My mother's diary hadn't lied. They were behind it. The Contis. Zavier.

I shakily inserted the flash drive and copied the documents. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I tried so hard to stabilize my breath.

That's when I felt it. The shift in the air.

“Didn't expect to see you here, sweetheart.”

The voice hit me like a gunshot.

Luca.

He leaned against the doorway, half in shadow, shirt undone, a wolfish smirk curling his lips.

For a moment my pulse stilled. He was supposed to be on a guard rotation at the north gate.

He stepped closer, closing the door behind him with a slow click, I stepped backwards till my back hit a shelf.

“You know this is a restricted area."

“I got lost," I lied smoothly, my voice came out more stabilized.

He chuckled, stepping closer until his breath brushed my cheek. “Lost? In the most guarded room in the house?"

I didn't answer. My hand twitched toward the drawer where I'd hidden the flash drive. Too slow. He caught my wrist mid-motion.

“What's this?" His voice softened dangerously, his thumb traced the inside of my wrist. “You're playing a dangerous game, princess."

" I don't know what you're talking about.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Don't lie to me.”

The silence between us thickened. Every breath felt like it could set the place on fire. His eyes gave away more than his words ever did.

Then he did something I wasn't expecting. He pulled me closer, backing me against the wall, his hand sliding to my waist then pinned me in place. His lips ghosted near my ear.

“Zavier's watching everyone." He murmured, “If he finds out what you're doing… even I won't be able to save you.”

I looked up at him, trying to read the moisture of desire and warning in his eyes. " Then why aren't you turning me in?”

He smirked faintly, "Maybe I like watching you squirm.”

His face dipped lower as his free hand traced my leg up, as he massaged his way up to my inner thighs. Breath hot against my neck. “Or maybe…” his lips brushed my jaw, "...I just want to see how far you'll go to keep your secrets.”

My pulse hammered as desire pooled within me, but I stayed still. Because if not it meant losing control.

“I don't owe you an explanation. Besides, aren't we being watched right now?" I whispered.

“No," he murmured, lips barely grazing mine. “But you owe me a favor for not sounding the alarm."

Lost in the moment, I used the opportunity to take back the hidden drive.

He reached behind me, flicked a switch and the monitors flickered off.

“Blindspot," he said softly, his mouth hovering a breath from mine, waiting for his control to snap.

The door flings open, startling both of us

“What the fuck?”