Aria moved cautiously through the mansion, every shadow making her heart race. The quiet after the storm was almost worse than the storm itself. The hidden room, the tests, and Luciano's ever-watchful presence left her on edge. Every glance over her shoulder reminded her: she was never truly alone.
Her fingers brushed a stack of letters left on a side table. Curiosity overcame caution. She unfolded one, only to freeze.
The letter was unsigned, but the words cut deep:
"Not everyone in the mansion is loyal. Watch your back."
A chill ran down her spine. She thought of the servants, the quiet eyes, the hushed whispers she'd occasionally overheard. Could it be true? Was someone plotting against her… or against Luciano?
A sudden movement in the hallway made her spin.
"Aria."
Luciano appeared, calm and composed, but his eyes were sharper than a blade. He stepped closer, and Aria felt the familiar mix of fear and thrill coil in her chest.
"You shouldn't be reading things you don't understand," he said softly, almost reproachful.
"I—someone sent this," she stammered, holding up the letter. "It says… it says someone here is not loyal."
His gaze darkened, a shadow passing over his sharp features. "I know," he murmured. "But knowing and proving are very different. Loyalty is tested, Aria. And trust… is earned."
Fear and fascination tangled inside her. Tested? Earned? Every word he spoke was precise, deliberate, controlling. She hated the power he held over her, and yet… she could not deny the pull toward him.
He circled her slowly, predator-like, eyes scanning her face as if measuring every thought. "I want you to survive this," he said. "Not just tonight… not just for now. But the moment you falter… even slightly… someone will strike. And I will not be able to protect you if you make a mistake."
Aria's hands trembled. She wanted to ask why, to demand answers, to run—but her voice failed her.
He leaned closer, the heat from his body pressing against hers. "I am obsessed with you, Aria. But obsession does not mean carelessness. You must learn who is friend… and who is poison."
Her breath caught. Every instinct screamed to flee, yet another, darker instinct whispered to stay.
Suddenly, a soft creak from the hallway made them both tense. Luciano's eyes narrowed, every muscle taut. He moved like a shadow, silent and lethal, disappearing down the corridor to investigate.
Alone, Aria felt her chest tighten. The mansion, the secrets, the shadows—they were suffocating. And she realized with a pang of dread: the danger wasn't just outside. It wasn't even just the rival mafia factions.
It was here. Inside. Among the people she was forced to trust.
She clutched the letter to her chest. Loyalty. Betrayal. Survival.
And in the twisting corridors of the Moretti mansion, she understood the first rule of this deadly game: no one is truly safe—not even her.
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