**LUCA**
ROME, ITALY
The elevator doors slide open, and I step into the lobby of Lorenzo Fashion House, my mind set on my purpose. There's a mole hiding here, and I'm determined to find out who's aiding him. I could have sent Antonio to handle it, but I prefer dealing with such matters myself. It's more fun that way. I barely pay attention to my surroundings until I notice a familiar face. It couldn't be... but it is. The redhaired. The woman who's haunted my thoughts since our night in Russia.
As the doors close behind us, her dress gets caught in the mechanism, causing her to stumble. Instinctively, I reach out and catch her before she falls, my hand firmly gripping her waist.
"Careful, redhaired," I say, unable to hide the amusement in my voice.
Her eyes widen as she realizes who I am. There's a mix of recognition and surprise in her gaze, and for a moment, we're both suspended in a shared memory. She quickly regains her composure, pulling away from me and standing upright.
"Thank you," she mutters, looking flustered.
I nod. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Neither did I," she replies, her voice strained. I can tell she's tense, seeing me here.
I move closer to her, but the man behind her steps in front of me, blocking my way. My eyes travel to his face, and I raise a brow. He looks familiar. Where have I seen him before? Then it clicks—he's one of Dante's soldiers. Why is he with her? I sigh and move back.
"It's fine, Alessio," she says. The guy glares at me, moving back only slightly. He keeps watching me, his eyes flicking to my right-hand man, Antonio. It's clear he knows who I am, judging by his caution.
"What brings you to Lorenzo Fashion House, Anastasia?"
She blinks and clears her throat. "You—you remember my name?"
I grin. It wasn't the first time I'd had a one-night stand, but this was the first time I couldn't forget the details. Since that day, I'd often reminisced about it but never acted on it. It was just fun, and I couldn't afford distractions.
"Yes, I do, redhaired."
"Why are you here at Lorenzo Fashion House, Anastasia? Especially in Italy?" I ask, curious. Like she said, I hadn't expected to see her again. I had found her attractive, and she needed one last fling with a young man before marrying off to her old man.
She hesitates, glancing at her bodyguard, who stands nearby, watching us intently. I can see the confusion in his eyes. "Business," she says finally. "I'm meeting with one of the owners to discuss a partnership. I need a space here for my business."
I raise an eyebrow. "Interesting. Why Italy, though? I thought you resided in Russia?"
An awkward silence falls between us, broken only by the sound of the elevator doors opening behind us.
Antonio gets off the phone and moves close to whisper in my ear. "We need to go, boss. Scuderi might run away."
I nod.
I can tell the redhaired woman doesn't know how to react around me. Something tells me it's not just because she's shy from our past encounter.
"Have a nice day, redhaired." I grin at her before walking away with Antonio. I can feel her eyes boring into my back as I walk away.
**ANASTASIA**
My heart is racing as I watch him walk away, trying to steady my breathing. This is the last thing I expected today. Seeing him here, of all places, feels like a cruel twist of fate. I can't let this distract me from the present situation. It was only a one-night stand, and it's in the past now; there's nothing to be bothered about.
We reach the reception desk, where a well-dressed woman greets us with a polite smile. "Welcome to Lorenzo Fashion House. Do you have an appointment?"
"Yes," I reply, forcing a smile. "Anastasia Saviano. I have a meeting with Mr. Lorenzo." Dante had told me earlier to ask for an appointment with Lorenzo, the co-founder of the fashion house, and that he had taken care of it.
She takes the telephone and dials. After the call, she turns to me. "Right this way, Mrs. Saviano. He's waiting for you." The woman gestures to the right corner leading to a lobby. I nod and start walking there with Alessio by my side.
In the sleek, modern conference room, Mr. Lorenzo takes his seat at the head of the table, his demeanor professional yet warm. Alessio stands behind me.
"Thank you for coming today," Mr. Lorenzo begins. "Mrs. Saviano, I'm aware that you're interested in partnering with Lorenzo Fashion House to expand your fashion business here in Italy."
I nod, trying to keep my nerves in check. "Yes, Mr. Lorenzo. I'm hoping to bring my designs and brand to a larger audience here."
Mr. Lorenzo smiles. "I've reviewed your work, Anastasia. You have a keen eye for fashion, and your designs are quite impressive. I believe there's potential for a fruitful partnership."
"Thank you," I reply, feeling a sense of relief, but then I realize he hasn't asked why they should work with me. "It's all set already?" I ask.
He nods with a smile. "Yes, Mrs. Saviano."
I frown. "Are you agreeing to this because of Dante?"
He doesn't say anything and simply smiles, which answers my question. He's agreeing because of Dante, and that's not what I want. I want to be accepted for my own efforts, not because of favoritism.
"Well, Dante and I go a long way, Mrs. Saviano. I owe him a lot. I wouldn't have had this business if not for him, especially as a member of the Mafia."
My eyes widen in surprise. Mr. Lorenzo is part of the Mafia? No wonder Dante felt comfortable with me working here. I get it now. I frown harder. Even in my place of work, the Mafia's influence is inescapable. The fact that I can't do anything without the Mafia's shadow hanging over me frustrates me.
I sigh and nod. "I see. I didn't know you were acquainted that way."
He grins. "You look disappointed, Mrs. Saviano."
I roll my eyes inwardly. "I didn't know you were acquainted with him that way. I thought it was a normal business arrangement."
He sighs. "Dante isn't the type to let you work with just any company. He trusts family more than outsiders. And as the wife of a mafia don, you should be familiar with this by now."
"I understand, Mr. Lorenzo," I reply, nodding.
"Please send in your information later so we can start the process. I'll see you soon, Mrs. Saviano." He stands up to shake my hand.
"Just call me Anastasia. I'm more comfortable with that," I say.
He hesitates for a moment before responding, "I look forward to working with you, Mrs. Anastasia."
I roll my eyes with a sigh. It's better than being called "Saviano," though it still reminds me of the unpleasant situation with that bastard. I suspect his interest in working with me is more about keeping good relations with Dante than actually collaborating with me.
"Me too," I say with a smile before walking out of the room with Alessio.
I ask Alessio to wait outside the restroom while I use it. He hesitates but eventually agrees to stand by the door. I need a moment to gather my thoughts and shake off the discomfort from the encounter with Luca.
Inside the restroom, the space is immaculate, with sleek, modern fixtures reflecting the luxury of the Lorenzo Fashion House. I splash water on my face and take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.
As I'm about to leave, a firm hand grabs my arm, pulling me back inside. I gasp and am about to scream, but a familiar voice hushes me.
"Relax, redhaired," Luca says in a low voice that sends a shiver down my spine. He traps me between him and the wall.
"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss, my heart racing.
His eyes lock onto mine, a mix of frustration and something else I can't quite identify. "I should be asking you the same thing. Why are you in Italy with one of Dante's soldiers?"
Wait... How does he know Alessio is Dante's soldier? And how does he even know Dante?
"That's none of your business. And how do you know Dante?" I snap, trying to push past him, but he doesn't move. Instead, he leans in closer, his breath warm against my skin.
"From what I remember, you said you were being forced to marry some old man. Are you married now?" he asks, tightening his grip on my arm.
My mind races, torn between anger and the undeniable attraction I feel toward him. "Why do you care? I asked you a question. How do you know Dante?"
"I asked first, redhaired. Why is Dante's soldier guarding you?" he demands, his eyes darkening.
I glare at him and yank my arm free. "It's... for my protection. And why should I tell you anything? How do you even know he's Dante's soldier? Who are you, really?"
His smile fades, replaced by a serious expression. "I need to know how you're connected to him. Did you marry the old man you mentioned?"
I stare into his eyes. He seems particularly interested in whether I'm married. How did he even remember that detail? I should have kept quiet.
"I didn't marry any old man. My affairs are private, and I'm not sharing them with a stranger," I retort, though my voice lacks conviction. Is he really a stranger after what we shared? That night that haunts my thoughts?
"Is that so?" he says, stepping even closer, his body pressing against mine. The heat between us is palpable, and I can't ignore how my body responds to him. "You know, I haven't stopped thinking about that night in Russia."
My breath catches in my throat. "That was a mistake."
"Was it?" he leans in, his lips brushing my ear. "Because I clearly tried to talk you out of it, but you didn't listen. I told you, redhaired, I'm not into Russian women."
I shiver, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. "Then why are you here, pressing me against the wall?"
He gazes into my eyes, as if wrestling with my question. "Beats me," he whispers, his lips inches from mine. "Tell me, why are you in Italy, Anastasia?"
Something about him feels off—there's been an inkling from the start that he's not just an ordinary man.
Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Alessio's voice shatters the tension. "Anastasia, are you—"
He stops short, eyes narrowing at the sight of Luca so close to me. "What the hell is going on here?"
Luca steps back, his expression unreadable. "Just a friendly chat."
Alessio eyes Luca with suspicion and frowns. "Mr. Moretti. May I ask why you are in the women's restroom?" His tone is firm, and I sense the tension between them. Alessio knows him? What on earth is happening here?
Luca grins. "Oh, my bad. I must have missed the sign at the front." He glances at me. "See you some other time, redhaired." He walks out of the restroom.
I let out a long sigh I didn't realize I was holding and turn to Alessio, whose eyes are still fixed on the door.
"It's fine, Alessio. It's no big deal."
"He was standing so close to you, Anastasia. Do you even know who that is?"
I swallow hard. That's the problem—I don't know who he is.
I shake my head. "No."
He nods. "It's better you don't. Please stay away from him. He's no good."
"Why?" I ask, genuinely curious. Since Alessio knows who he is, I should get information from him.
He sighs. "He's part of the Italian mafia. He's the don of the Moretti family and controls Naples."
I gape at Alessio, stunned by the revelation. I suspected Luca was no ordinary man, but a mafia don? That's a lot more than I expected.
"Is—Is he on bad terms with Dante?"
Alessio shakes his head. "No. He, Dante, and Matteo Russo, the don controlling Florence, work together to protect the Italian family. They might not have any major differences, but they barely tolerate each other. So, it's best you tread carefully."
I exhale, trying to process what Alessio has told me. This means I need to avoid Luca as much as possible. Even though my marriage with Dante isn't a happy one, I doubt he'd tolerate another man being close to me. No wonder Luca kept asking how I'm connected to Dante. This isn't good, but it was only a one-night stand, so I shouldn't worry too much, right?
**LUCA**
I walk out of the restroom, my mind racing. Anastasia is more than a distraction—she's a complication I didn't anticipate. But there's something about her that makes me want to dig deeper and understand her role in Dante's life.
Antonio approaches me, his expression cautious. "We should go, boss. Scuderi's men will soon realize their boss is dead."
I nod, but my thoughts are still on Anastasia. "Find out everything you can about her and why she's here. I want to know every detail."
"Who?" Antonio asks, puzzled.
I turn to him and sigh. "Stay here. She'll come out of the restroom soon."
I walk away, leaving him to handle it. I smile, recalling how flustered she was when we were close. This is going to be fun.
XOXO