The Belloni estate was quiet.
Too quiet without Luca.
Bianca's steps carried her to the study.
To the safe in the corner.
She stopped.
The code wasn't hard.
A soft click.
The door swung open.
Inside—a black velvet pouch.
From it, she drew a glass vial.
Clear.
Cold.
Inside, water-colored crystals brushed
against each other with a faint chime.
A flash—Monaco.
Her friend's phone.
A yacht, white lights.
Eyes unfocused, bodies tangled.
"That blue capsule? Belloni Blue,"
her friend had whispered.
She lifted the vial.
Its cold, smooth weight clung to her palm.
If Luca hid it here…
there was something stronger in it than she'd been told.
She took a breath.
Twisted the cap.
One shard fell into her hand.
Cold.
Melting against her fingers.
She slipped it past her lips.
A faint crack—
like ice breaking on the tongue.
Cold turning to heat.
Her heart tripped into an uneven rhythm.
In the mirror,
she saw herself breathe faster.
She dropped into Luca's chair.
Loosened the belt at her waist.
The robe slid from her shoulders.
Warm air brushed the inside of her thighs.
Her fingers moved—
as if they no longer belonged to her.
Skin trembled first,
then the heat pushed deep inside.
Her lips parted.
Her breath fogged the mirror.
Her wrist moved quicker, deeper.
The leather chair creaked.
Her hips rose on their own.
Her toes curled in the carpet.
Her gaze locked on her own blurred reflection.
Once. Twice—
The wave hit hard.
Her knees gave.
Her back met the cold safe door.
When it was over,
there was only breath—
rough, uneven—
and the damp, hot ache left in her hand.
Days later—
Luca sat in the study, reviewing reports.
He opened the safe.
Stopped.
The silver case inside…
out of order.
It didn't take long to count.
The door opened.
Bianca stepped in.
Luca stayed seated,
turning the case in his fingers.
"Why is this empty?"
Her eyes dropped to the case.
She only smiled—tired, satisfied.
"Answer me,"
he said, his gaze narrowing.
"Did you take it?"
She came closer.
Fingers caught his tie.
"Yes. I took it."
Too late to deny it.
Her eyes told the rest.
Luca's voice stayed cold.
"That was an unrefined prototype. A failed batch."
She smirked.
"I don't care. Give me another—
or make me writhe for you right here."
Her breath touched his lips.
He shut the case.
Click.
The sound was final.
In his head, he knew.
This was addiction.
And it was a weapon.