After finishing my breakfast, I mumble a quiet "Thanks" To Viviana, who doesn't even lift her eyes. The silence between us stretches too long, too heavy.
I tilt my head and say. "I hope I didn't bother you."
Still no response.
With a sigh, I scrape my stool back, the sound harsh against the tile, and stand. Viviana doesn't look my way, doesn't say a word. Just keep drying the same spotless spoon like her life depends on it.
I take a hint and walk out of the kitchen. My steps are soft, but my mind is racing. I have hoped for some human interaction, maybe even a crumb of kindness, but Viviana has sealed herself off behind cold loyalty and dead eyes.
The hallway is long and dimly lit. I don't know exactly where I am going, just that I don't want to stay still. Air is expensive and suffocating. My fingers brush the wallpaper as I turn a corner, just something to hold on to.
Then...bam.
I nearly collided with a tall girl standing at the end of the corridor. I step back quickly, blinking. The girl is beautiful in a sharp, icy kind of way, with jet-black hair slicked back, lips painted a dark plum, and cheekbones that can slice glass. Her arms are crossed, and her brows arch as she tries to recognize me or is shocked to see me.
Please, don't. Don't recognize me. I don't want to talk about the scandal I am famous for.
Behind her, a guy is standing, maybe the same age as Lucien, tall and cocky as hell, with a smirk that practically swaggers. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, one foot kicked up behind him.
The girl clenches her jaw. "So, he finally did it, what I have been telling him not to do."
I squint. "Excuse me?"
The girl looks me up and down, unimpressed. "Why on earth are you roaming around like you are invited to a damn picnic?"
I step back and start stammering. "Uh...Lu...I mean, Lucien. He...he told me I can walk around...this side of the mansion."
The girl let out a soft, cold laugh, like she didn't buy it for a second. "Did he, really?"
My lips are shivering as I have nothing to convince her. The guy steps forward; he pushes the girl back with his index finger. "Come on, Elena, stop scaring her." he looks at me with interest. "She is cute. Kinda wild-eyed, like a lost kitten." He tilts his head. "Anaya, right, sweetheart?"
I swallow hard and nod. How in the name of God does he know my name?
"Sexy name," he says, giving me a wink. "But Lucien must have a reason for keeping you here, right?"
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The tension is thick; there are too many vague things for me to process. The girl shoots the guy a look like she is already over this.
"Come on," she says coldly, turning on her heels. "Let's go, and if Lucien sees you flirting with her, he will kill you."
The guy gives me a final once-over and follows, tossing a lopsided grin over his shoulder. "Try not to get lost, kitten."
They disappear around the corner; I blink after them, heart hammering.
Wait...who the hell were they?
Whoever they were...they knew way more than they let on.
Finally, after a few wrong turns and brushing past the same damn hallway three times, I find my room again. I exhale, ready to shut the door and lock myself inside for the rest of the day.
My hand hovers near the lock.
But Lucien's cold voice curls in my mind like a whip. You are not allowed to lock your door. I step back instinctively, heart skipping. The lock may as well burn my fingers.
I drift to the window instead, arms hugging my waist. Outside, the courtyard stretches like a ghost, lush and quiet. Guards, dressed in black suits and wearing shades, stand like spies near the gated entrance. Their bodies are unmoving, rifles resting like afterthoughts against their sides.
A sharp knock jolts me.
My whole body flinches, breath catching in my throat. Shit.
Did Lucien find out I talked to Clara and Beatrice?
Is he gonna punish me? Or worse, send someone else to do it?
Before I can call out.
Apologize.
Please.
Maybe.
The door creaks open.
Not Lucien.
Clara and Beatrice slip in like shadows, whispering, giggling like they have no business creeping through a monster's mansion.
My eyes widen. "What the hell are you both doing here? I hiss, backing up. "You can't just walk in here. If Lucien or his men see you...If that damn M sees you both..."
Beatrice just waves me off, unfazed. "Relax. Rafe and Elena are here. The devil king is not leaving his office for at least three hours."
I blink. "Who?"
Neither girl answers right away. Instead, they kick off their slippers and plop onto the thick white rug near the window like they have done it a hundred times before.
Clara pats the spot next to her. "Come on. Sit. You have got that lost-puppy look."
"Okay," Beatrice says, leaning back on her elbows. "Since you are officially one of us—or, well, his now—I guess it's time for a crash course."
I frown. "A crash course in what?"
"Some basic information about Lucien Moretti's world."
Clara picks up the thread. "Rafe Torcelli, you just met him in the hallway. He is Lucien's childhood bestie. Total hothead. But loyal to the bone. He will burn a city if Mr. Moretti tells him to."
"Elena Navarro," Beatrice adds, smirking. "The girl with Rafe you just met is the one who cleans up Lucien's mess. Blackmail, silencing people, and making bodies vanish. She handles all of it. She is brutal. Kinda scary. Honestly. Don't mess with her."
I shake my head and ask them in one breath. "But who is Lucien Moretti, and why on earth did he bring me here? Also, why are Elena and Rafe acting as if they know me already?"
Clara whispers. "Okay, we don't know why Lucien brought you here, but we can tell you who Lucien Moretti is. He and Rafe have been part of the mafia world since they were eleven. When Lucien was twenty-one, he killed the boss, and that is how he took over this dark power. Matteo backed him. Everyone else just fell in line."
"More like got forced to kneel." Beatrice says. "Gang members are scared that Matteo would gut them if they didn't.
I stare between them, my skin crawling with the weight of this bloody legacy. "And...you two? How do you know all this?"
Clara's smile fades. "Our dad worked for Lucien Moretti. He died in a crossfire. Rival gang hit. Fucker Laz."
Beatrice's eyes drop to the floor. "Lucien took us in after. Signora Viviana raised us."
I look at both of them, my heart drumming louder.
This place isn't just a mansion. It is a kingdom, and Lucien Moretti?
He is the dark, ruthless king everyone fears and owes.