The night air clung to Aria's skin, sharp with roses and danger. She pressed herself tighter against the stone wall, heart pounding as if it might betray her hiding place. Luca's words still echoed in her skull—Leave the Bellamys to me.
It wasn't just a threat. It was a promise. And promises from men like Luca Moretti didn't vanish into the night.
The terrace doors shifted. Aria's pulse spiked. For a terrible moment, she thought he might step out, that his piercing gaze would sweep over the balcony and pin her in place. But instead, the two men he had been speaking to moved past her, their murmurs fading into the music of the ballroom.
She was alone. Or so she thought.
"Eavesdropping is a dangerous habit, Miss Bellamy."
The voice came from behind her, smooth as smoke. Her breath froze, her body stiffening as she turned.
And there he was.
Luca Moretti stood in the shadows, the moonlight brushing across the sharp lines of his face. His dark suit was immaculate, his tie loosened just slightly, as if he had grown tired of perfection. But his eyes—those eyes—were merciless, steady, locked onto her as if he had known she was there all along.
Aria swallowed hard, forcing her lips to move. "I wasn't—"
"Listening?" His mouth curved, not quite a smile, not quite a threat. "Then you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."
She wanted to run. Every instinct screamed at her to slip back into the safety of the ballroom, into her mother's watchful grasp, into a world where shadows didn't speak her name. But her feet betrayed her, rooted to the marble, betraying her with their stillness.
Luca stepped closer. The faint scent of his cologne—smoke, spice, something darker—wrapped around her. "You wear your mask well," he said softly, almost to himself. "But masks always slip."
Aria lifted her chin, clinging to the dignity her family name demanded. "And what happens when they do?"
He paused, studying her with an intensity that made her blood rush faster. "Then you learn the truth. Whether you want to or not."
The silence stretched between them, heavy, charged. She hated the way her chest rose and fell too quickly, hated that standing so near to him set her heart ablaze even while her mind screamed that this was the man who would destroy everything she loved.
From the ballroom, laughter rang out, oblivious to the storm building on the balcony.
Luca leaned in just enough that only she could hear. "Be careful where you linger, Miss Bellamy. Curiosity has a price." His words dripped with warning, but there was something else beneath them, something she dared not name.
And then, as suddenly as he appeared, he turned and walked back through the terrace doors, swallowed by the golden light of the ballroom.
Aria exhaled shakily, her nails leaving crescents in her palms. She should feel relieved, grateful he hadn't exposed her. But instead, she felt something else. Something far more dangerous.
The realization struck her with brutal clarity:
She was already too deep.
Luca Moretti wasn't just her family's enemy. He was her undoing.
And as the violins swelled once more, Aria knew the war she had feared for so long had finally begun—not between families, but within her own heart.