“Hello again, little troublemaker,” I muttered. Her lips parted in shock.
“You…” Her voice broke. “What did you do?”
I reached up slowly and brushed blood from the lace near her waist with my gloved fingers. “What I should’ve done the moment they tried to give you to somebody else. But this was more fun.”
Fear flooded her expression. Fear meant she finally understood exactly what kind of man had kissed her the night of her bachelorette party.
“You’re insane,” Aurora whispered. “You killed him, you sick fuck!”
Her voice trembled, but there was anger underneath it. Fury. God, she was gorgeous like that. Standing over her dead fiancé in a bloodstained wedding dress, staring at me like she wanted to claw my heart out with her bare hands. I fucking loved our little games so much.
“Probably,” I admitted lightly. “But you noticed me anyway.”
“You slaughtered him,” she hissed, looking down at Sergio’s body again like she still couldn’t process it. Blood kept spreading across the marble beneath him in a dark, glossy pool.
“You’re welcome,” I hissed.
Her horrified gaze snapped back to mine. “Welcome?”
I smiled slowly. “You looked miserable standing next to him.”
“You don’t get to decide that!” She glanced at her older sister, letting out a wail when she realized Chiara was fighting a guard hard to break free.
“Don’t I?” I smirked.
The cathedral echoed with chaos around us. Men shouting orders. Women crying. Guns cocking. My soldiers movedthrough the pews efficiently, making sure nobody got any brave ideas tonight.
Aurora’s chest rose sharply beneath the lace bodice of her gown. I watched her realize exactly how trapped she was. “You’re a monster!”
“Mm.” I tilted my head slightly. “And you still kissed me.”
Color flooded her cheeks. Beautiful fucking girl.
“That was before I knew who you were,” she snapped.
“And now you do.” I laughed at her anger. “Pleasantly surprised?”
Her breathing turned uneven. Fear mixed with outrage behind those dark eyes. But there was something else there too. Something she was trying very hard to bury. Recognition. Attraction. The memory of my mouth on hers in the dark.
I leaned closer, lowering my voice.
“Tell me something, Aurora. While your poor fiancé was reciting his vows…” My gaze dragged slowly over her face. “Were you thinking about him? Or were you thinking about the man in the devil mask?”
Chapter One: AURORA
One week ago
MysisterChiara’shousesmelled like garlic bread, expensive vetiver candles, and the kind of organized chaos only rich people could afford.
The massive open-concept living room looked like a luxury furniture catalog had been hit by a tornado made entirely of children. Tiny sneakers sat abandoned beside a marble fireplace worth more than my life. Crayons littered the glass coffee table beside fashion magazines and gun holsters casually discarded by bodyguards who probably considered firearms accessories.
Somewhere in the background, lo-fi jazz played softly through hidden speakers while the city sparkled beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows in streaks of gold and silver. And in the middle of all that luxury? My nephew Bruno launched a breadstick across the dining room like a tiny Italian war criminal.
“BRUNO LEONARDO MORETTI!” Chiara’s voice cracked through the penthouse just as the breadstick bounced directly off her husband’s Leo’s whiskey glass.
Silence followed. Even the nanny froze beside the kitchen island holding a bowl of pasta.
Slowly, Leonardo Moretti lowered the newspaper in his hands. His expression remained perfectly calm, which somehow made him infinitely more terrifying.