Chapter 1

"Lucia, are you really going to Chicago to handle the family's 'business'? It's a real shitshow over there. If you go, what about Vincent?"

At the mention of Vincent's name, Lucia Moretti froze for a moment.

Countless intimate memories flashed through her mind. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, a sharp, bitter ache.

But after a moment of silence, she took a sip of her bourbon and repeated her decision.

"He'll have my people watching him. Stop asking. Get it done."

"...Yes, Lucia. I'll make the arrangements. The private jet will be waiting for you at the usual spot in two weeks."

After hanging up, Lucia leaned back into the leather sofa, her deep gaze fixed on the entertainment news headline.

"GALLO GROUP SPENDS A FORTUNE ON NEW HOLLYWOOD FILM. A-LIST VETERANS TO SUPPORT NEWCOMER SCARLETT. WHO IS THIS MYSTERY WOMAN GETTING SUCH A MASSIVE PUSH?"

The internet exploded with discussions about the Gallo Group's unprecedented move into the film industry. Everyone was guessing about Scarlett's connection to the powerful corporation.

"Is this woman a secret love child of the Gallo family? Otherwise, why would a 'financial empire' that never touches entertainment get personally involved in launching an unknown actress?"

"Probably not a love child. A kept woman is more likely. A bombshell like Scarlett is exactly the type those family Dons and their spoiled heirs go for."

That comment quickly racked up thousands of likes. Using an anonymous account, Lucia liked it too.

Because she knew better than anyone that the comment was 100% true.

Scarlett was indeed very popular with the "rich young master," and this big move from the Gallo Group was the work of the man Lucia had loved for seven years: Vincent.

The fact that Vincent, a man known for his cold-blooded ruthlessness in business, would spend so extravagantly to make Scarlett a star left Lucia sitting in silence once again.

She wearily turned off the screen and closed her eyes, a frown creasing her brow.

Before she knew it, her glass of bourbon was empty. Draining the last drop, Lucia slowly opened her eyes and set the glass on the table.

This is it, she thought. We're done.

Or maybe, from the very beginning, they were a mistake.

...

Lucia met Vincent seven years ago.

At the time, she was the Moretti family's top enforcer, waiting in a seedy bar in Colombia for a traitor to show his face. That's where she saw him—Vincent, looking like a lost little animal.

The handsome young man stared with wide, clear eyes, looking around at the chaotic, dangerous scene in the bar with a mix of curiosity and terror. He was so shocked his mouth was slightly open, as if he'd forgotten how to breathe.

In that single moment, Lucia was intrigued.

Their eyes met across the dim, smoky room. When their gazes locked, Vincent's wavered, and he unconsciously took a few steps toward her.

He didn't snap out of it until he almost walked straight into her table.

He quickly looked away, not daring to meet her eyes again.

Lucia found it amusing. A naive kid who looked like a college student, wandering into a place like this. Did he have a death wish?

She was about to go over and give him a warning, but then her target appeared. Lucia had to push the thought aside and get back to work.

By the time she had "handled" the target and returned to the bar, Vincent was, unsurprisingly, gone.

A flash of disappointment crossed her mind, quickly replaced by a self-mocking sense of relief.

She had to be crazy to think that boy would have waited for her.

She shook her head and turned to leave, but a gentle tap on her shoulder stopped her.

In a flash, Lucia spun around, and the boy's handsome face came into view.

He looked down shyly, his voice trembling with nerves.

"Hi... I... can I get to know you?"

Lucia scoffed internally. A sweet, innocent boy who had probably never even held a girl's hand, trying to hit on her—a black rose laced with poison.

But he had waited. He had stayed, willing to gamble on her return.

In that moment, Lucia's heart, which had been dormant for years, fluttered.