The chandelier glittered above like a thousand captured stars, music swirled through the grand ballroom, and laughter echoed around walls built for power. But beneath the shimr of champagne glasses and designer gowns, danger pulsed like an invisible heartbeat.
I tugged uncomfortably at the silk gown Clara had forced into. "Why am I even here?" I whispered.
Luca, immaculate in a tailored black suit, adjusted his cufflinks without looking at . "Because appearances matter."
"To who?"
"To everyone watching," he said, eyes scanning the crowd. "They need to see you at my side."
"I’m not a prop."
"No," he said finally, gaze cutting to , sharp and soft all at once. "You’re my shield. My anchor. The reason they think twice before crossing ."
I huffed, crossing my arms. "That sounds worse than being a prop."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "You make even that sound dangerous."
Before I could argue, a man with silver hair approached, his grin too wide to be friendly. "Don Luca, the man of the hour. And this must be the infamous wife we’ve all heard whispers about."
My stomach knotted. Luca’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling closer. "Whispers are dangerous things, Enzo. They tend to end with blood on the floor."
Enzo chuckled. "Still dramatic as ever. Relax. I only wanted to congratulate you... on both your empire and your bride." His gaze slid over , lingering too long.
I stiffened. Luca’s grip tightened. "Look at her again like that, and I’ll rip your eyes out before dessert."
The air between them sparked. Guests turned discreetly to watch.
I whispered urgently, "Luca, stop. Everyone’s staring."
He didn’t blink. "Let them."
Enzo smirked. "Careful, Deluca. You’re slipping. Love makes n weak."
"And greed makes n stupid," Luca shot back.
Enzo tipped his glass, retreating into the crowd. But his words lingered like smoke.
I turned to Luca. "What was that?"
"A reminder," he muttered, scanning the room again. "That no one here is a friend."
I swallowed. "Then why throw this party?"
"Because enemies need to see the face of the man they’re planning to betray. Keeps them cautious."
"And ?"
His eyes flicked to mine, softer now. "You’re the only thing that keeps sane in this circus."
The words lodged in my chest before I could answer.
A waiter passed, offering champagne. I took a glass with shaking hands, needing sothing to ground . But when I sipped, bitterness coated my tongue. Too bitter. Wrong.
I froze.
"Luca," I whispered urgently. "Sothing’s wrong."
His gaze snapped to , then to the glass. He grabbed it from my hand, sniffed it, and swore under his breath.
"Poison," he muttered, shoving the glass into his bodyguard’s hands. "Get it tested. Now."
The music played on, the guests oblivious. But suddenly the glittering ballroom felt like a trap.
"Who,who would,"
"Everyone in this room has motive," Luca said, grabbing my hand firmly. "Stay with ."
Panic rose in my throat. "I could’ve died."
His voice softened for the briefest second. "Not while I’m here."
He pulled through the crowd, past smiling strangers whose eyes glinted with hidden malice. Every step felt like walking a tightrope above fire.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Sowhere safer."
We ducked into a side corridor, the noise of the party fading behind heavy doors. My breath trembled out of .
"Luca,"
"Don’t." His hand slamd against the wall beside , caging in. His other hand gripped mine like he’d never let go. His eyes burned into mine. "You scared the hell out of ."
"I scared you?" I whispered. "I was the one almost poisoned."
"You think I don’t know that?" His voice cracked, raw. "One sip more, one second later, and you’d" He broke off, jaw tight, like the words themselves were unbearable.
Tears stung my eyes. "Why do you care so much?"
His breath was ragged. "Because I can’t lose you."
"You say that, but"
"No buts." His forehead pressed to mine, desperate, unyielding. "I’ve lost enough in my life. I won’t bury you too."
Silence pressed heavy between us.
"Luca..." My voice faltered.
He pulled back just enough to look at . "You don’t understand. You’re not just my wife on paper. Not anymore. Tonight proved it."
My chest ached, confusion and longing tangling inside . "You’re scaring ."
"Good," he whispered harshly. "Because I’m terrified too."
Before I could respond, voices echoed from the ballroom, footsteps, laughter. He straightened, every trace of vulnerability vanishing behind the steel mask of the Don.
"Stay close," he ordered, his arm sliding around again. "They’ll try again. And when they do..."
"And when they do?" I pressed.
His eyes glinted like cold fire. "I’ll show them what it ans to touch what’s mine."
We returned to the party, every glance from the crowd suddenly sharper, every smile laced with suspicion. And though Luca stood tall beside , powerful and untouchable, I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down my spine.
Because tonight wasn’t just a celebration.
It was a declaration of war.
And sohow, I was at the center of it.
The ballroom’s golden light flickered as we reentered, the crowd parting subtly to let us pass. My heart pounded, each beat a reminder of the poison I’d nearly swallowed. Luca’s hand on my lower back was both a comfort and a chain, guiding through a sea of faces that now seed to hide daggers behind their smiles. I scanned the room, searching for clues, for any hint of who might have slipped death into my glass. Every guest was a suspect, every gesture a potential threat.
A woman in a sapphire gown caught my eye, her laughter too loud, her gaze too fleeting. Was she watching us? Or was I imagining it? Paranoia crept in, curling around my thoughts like ivy. Luca leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Stop looking for them. They’ll reveal themselves soon enough."
"How can you be so calm?" I hissed, my voice low to avoid prying ears.
"Calm?" His jaw tightened. "I’m a storm inside. But showing it gives them power."
I wanted to argue, to demand how he could stand there so composed when soone had just tried to kill . But his eyes held mine, steady and fierce, and I saw the truth: he was anything but calm. He was a predator waiting, calculating, ready to strike.
Another man approached, younger than Enzo, with a nervous energy that set my nerves on edge. "Don Luca," he said, bowing slightly. "A word?"
Luca’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on tightened briefly. "Speak, Marco."
Marco glanced at , then back to Luca. "In private, perhaps?"
"Anything you say to , you say in front of her," Luca said, his tone leaving no room for argunt.
Marco hesitated, then nodded. "There’s talk. About the shipnt. So say it never arrived."
Luca’s eyes narrowed. "And who says that?"
Marco shrugged, too casual. "Just rumors. You know how people talk."
"Rumors," Luca repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "Like whispers, they tend to end badly."
Marco paled but forced a smile. "Just thought you should know."
As he lted back into the crowd, I leaned into Luca. "What was that about?"
"A test," he murmured. "Soone’s fishing for cracks in our armor."
The weight of his world pressed down on . This wasn’t just a party; it was a battlefield, every conversation a skirmish, every glance a potential ambush. I wasn’t just his wife; I was a piece in a ga I barely understood. Yet, as his hand steadied , I felt a spark of sothing new, resolve. If I was in this, I wouldn’t be a pawn. I’d learn the rules, and I’d fight.
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