Mixed blood

Chapter eight : Kill of the night

At first, the idea seemed insane. How could two families who had spent generations spilling each other's blood suddenly come together in peace?

But necessity demanded it. The mafias arranged the wedding, inviting the most powerful figures in the city to witness the union that would supposedly end the war.

The event was nothing short of opulent. The palace glittered under the golden glow of chandeliers, lavish floral arrangements filling every corner.

White and gold dominated the decor, elegance layered over brutality, as though silk and diamonds could erase the decades of carnage between the two families.

The guest list was as impressive as the decor-politicians, businessmen, and underworld kingpins gathered, all eager to solidify their relationships with the newly bound families.

Luana Romero was a vision in white. Her gown hugged her form, intricate lace shimmering under the lights. Her dark curls cascaded down her back, a delicate veil perched atop her head like a crown. But beneath the breathtaking facade, her expression was unreadable-a porcelain doll with steel in her eyes.

William Russo stood at the altar, the embodiment of calculated indifference. Dressed in a black tuxedo, he exuded power, his cold gaze sweeping over the room. His best friend, Diego, leaned in with a smirk.

"You know this is the last time I get to call you a free man," Diego taunted.

William adjusted his cufflinks with lazy precision. "Nothing has changed."

Diego chuckled, slapping him on the back. "You'll show her who's in charge soon enough."

William's lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes remained hard. "Oh, she'll learn. One way or another."

Diego's grin widened, and he nudged William. "Hah, here's my bro! I know how dirty you could be."

William laughed, "Just shut up."

Meanwhile, in another room, Luana stood before the mirror, her heart heavy despite the beautiful image staring back at her.

She'd always imagined her wedding day to be perfect, but the circumstances surrounding it left her feeling trapped.

The door burst open. Xavier stormed in, his face tight with desperation. "Luana, don't do this."

Her gaze turned to ice. "Get out."

He stepped closer, gripping her arm. "You don't love him. Run away with me. We can disappear, start over."

She wrenched free. "You're a fool."

"Maybe." His voice dropped, raw. "But I love you. And that should be enough."

"Love?" She scoffed, stepping closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Love won't protect my family. Love won't stop William Russo from coming after us. He's not the kind of man you run from, Xavier. He's the kind who finds you. And when he does, he doesn't forgive."

Xavier paled. "Luana-"

"Leave. While you still can."

Xavier's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, heartbroken.

"Out," she said, leaving no room to argue.

With a heavy heart, he left the room. She reached for her lipstick, carefully applying the deep shade of red.

She had never been kissed before.

Tonight, she would have her first kiss.

Not with love. Not with tenderness.