The Devil's Bargain
The car sped through the streets of Manhattan, weaving through traffic with reckless precision. The city was alive outside the tinted windows—horns blaring, neon lights flickering against wet pavement—but inside the car, the world had shrunk to silence.
Elena's hands clenched into fists in her lap. The scent of blood clung to the air, coppery and thick. Luca sat beside her, his black suit speckled with red. He was silent, staring out the window, his face carved from stone.
She had a thousand questions, but only one left her lips.
"Who were they?"
Luca let out a slow exhale. "Not Ricci. Not DeLuca."
"I know that." Her voice was sharp. "They were assassins. I saw it. The Skull and dagger. They don't belong to any of our families."
A flicker of something passed through his silver eyes. Respect? Amusement? It was gone too fast to tell.
"You're observant," he said, tilting his head.
"I was raised by a man who trusted no one. I learned early how to tell an enemy from an ally." Her throat tightened. My father.
Luca studied her for a moment before looking away. "They were after me."
She had already guessed that much, but hearing it aloud made her stomach twist.
"You knew this was coming," she said, watching him closely. "Didn't you?"
Luca didn't deny it.
The silence stretched between them, thick with unanswered questions.
She took a slow breath. "So my father died for nothing?"
Luca's gaze snapped to hers. "No."
"No?" Her laugh was bitter. "Then tell me what this was about. Tell me why my father was gunned down in front of hundreds of people while you walked away like you expected it."
Luca's expression didn't change, but something in his posture did. He wasn't just holding back information—he was calculating. Measuring what to say.
"This wasn't about your father," he finally said. "It was about me. The hit was meant for me, but they took the shot the moment they had an opportunity."
Elena's pulse pounded. "Who hired them?"
His jaw tensed.
"If I knew that," he said, "they'd already be dead."
Her stomach churned. "So you have no idea who wants you dead?"
Luca didn't respond.
The car slowed as they turned into an underground garage beneath a towering skyscraper. Elena hadn't even noticed they'd left Manhattan. The driver pulled up to a private elevator, then stepped out without a word.
Luca finally looked at her. "You're staying with me tonight."
She stiffened. "Excuse me?"
He opened the door, stepping out. "We're not going to your father's estate. It's not safe."
Elena gritted her teeth. "You don't get to make that decision for me."
Luca leaned down, his silver eyes locking onto hers. "I do now."
Something cold settled in her spine.
"You think just because we're married, I belong to you?" she whispered.
Luca's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smirk. "I think you're smart enough to know that walking into Ricci territory after what just happened is a death sentence."
Elena hated that he was right.
If the Ricci family believed she had anything to do with this, she wouldn't make it through the night.
Clenching her jaw, she slid out of the car.
Luca led her into the private elevator, pressing a code into the keypad. The doors closed, and the lift began to ascend. The silence was thick between them.
"I want answers," she said.
"You'll get them."
"When?"
"When I have them."
She turned to face him. "You're hiding something from me."
He met her gaze, unflinching. "And you're hiding something from me."
She inhaled sharply, but before she could respond, the elevator chimed. The doors slid open, revealing the penthouse.
The space was all glass and steel, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, sleek black furniture, and not a single trace of warmth. It was like its owner—sharp, cold, and dangerous.
Elena stepped inside cautiously, her heels clicking against the marble.
She turned to Luca. "So what now?"
"Now?" He unbuttoned his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. "You tell me the truth."
She folded her arms. "About what?"
His silver eyes darkened. "Who knew about the wedding?"
She frowned. "What?"
"Who? Knew." His voice was slow, deliberate.
She swallowed. "Everyone knew. It was the biggest mafia wedding in years."
Luca shook his head. "I mean, who knew the exact location, the security details, the guest list?"
Realization struck her. "You think someone leaked information."
"I think it's too much of a coincidence that an elite team of assassins knew exactly when and where to strike."
Elena's stomach twisted.
Someone had set this up.
Someone close to them.
She shook her head. "The Ricci family wouldn't—"
"Are you sure about that?" Luca's voice was quiet. Dangerous. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like someone inside your father's empire wanted him dead."
Elena's breath hitched.
No. That wasn't possible.
Her father had been the heart of the Ricci empire. No one would dare betray him. No one would—
A sudden memory flashed through her mind.
Her father's second-in-command, Matteo Rossi, stood too close to her that morning, gripping her shoulder with fingers too tight. If anything happens tonight, you do what's best for the family, understand?
At the time, she had thought it was just a warning.
Now, her blood ran cold.
Luca studied her face. "You just thought of something."
She didn't answer.
His voice dropped. "Elena."
She clenched her fists. "If I give you a name, what happens to them?"
Luca's expression was unreadable. "Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether they were the ones holding the gun or just passing the message."
She swallowed hard.
This was the moment. The moment she chose.
Stay loyal to the Ricci family—the people who had raised her, given her power, taught her the rules of the game.
Or side with Luca, a man she barely knew, a man with secrets, a man who might be her only chance at survival.
She took a slow breath.
And then she said the name.
"Matteo Rossi."
Luca's silver eyes darkened like a brewing storm.
The game had changed.
And Elena had just chosen her side.