In a world where loyalty is everything and betrayal means death, love is a dangerous game. Two souls from opposite ends of the mafia underworld cross paths.
#1 in seducing
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Isabella's POV
The music pulsed around us, a seductive beat that carried the night's energy. I moved to the rhythm, the crowd swirling like a sea of glittering bodies around me, but I still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Not just by anyone—Matteo Romano's gaze was fixed on me, a steady burn I felt with every step.
Sofia twirled beside me, laughing, her carefree spirit filling the space between us. I tried to match her mood, but it was hard when I felt Matteo's eyes trailing every movement, like a shadow I couldn't escape.
"Isabella!" Sofia called, grabbing my hand to twirl me again, her grin wide.
"Loosen up! It's a party, not a board meeting!"
I laughed, the sound light but not quite reaching my eyes.
"I'm trying, Sofia. I swear."
But even as I spoke, I couldn't help but feel that weight of Matteo's presence from across the room.
After a few more spins, I pulled away.
"I need a drink."
Sofia pouted but waved me off with a wink.
"Fine, but don't be long, bella mia. The night's still young!"
I nodded and moved through the crowd, my heels clicking against the marble floors as I made my way to the bar.
The penthouse was packed, bodies pressed close, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the hum of quiet deals being made between the beats of the music.
The bar was a little quieter, perched in the corner of the penthouse with a perfect view of the dance floor. I approached, leaning against the cool marble surface, and ordered my drink.
"Whiskey, neat,"
I said to the bartender, who immediately started pouring. As I waited, I glanced around the room, taking in the faces—some familiar, others not.
Everyone had their role in this world, and it didn't take long to figure out who was a threat and who was just playing at one.
"Isabella Greco," a voice said from beside me. "What a surprise."
I didn't turn right away, recognizing the smooth, too-familiar tone.
Luca Santoro. I kept my face calm as I took my drink from the bartender, letting the cool glass settle in my palm before finally turning to face him.
"Luca," I said smoothly, offering a tight smile. "I could say the same to you."
He grinned, all teeth, his dark eyes gleaming with something unspoken.
