Valeria stepped out of the sleek black car, her heels clicking softly against the marble driveway of the lvanov Mansion. The night air was crisp, but the warmth lingering in her veins had nothing to do with the weather.
She could still feel him.
The heat of his touch, the firm grip on her waist. The way his breath had ghosted over her skin when he'd whispered in her ear.
Stealing from me, Valeria?
His voice, smooth and laced with dark amusement, replayed in her head like a sin she wasn't ready to confess.
She had danced with Adrian DeLuca. Seduced him with a smirk and a whisper. Stolen his mask and left him aching.
And yet, it wasn't victory she felt as she walked through the grand entrance of her father's estate.
It was anticipation.
Valeria swept through the dimly lit halls, her gown trailing behind her like liquid fire. The moment she stepped into her father's study, she knew he was waiting for her.
Lorenzo lvanov sat behind an ornate mahogany desk, a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand, his dark eyes sharp as they flicked to her. A silent storm brewed in his gaze.
"You enjoyed yourself tonight." His voice was even, but she could hear the edge beneath it.
Valeria smirked, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps. "Is that a problem?"
Lorenzo exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "It is when you're playing with fire."
She leaned against the desk, tilting her head. "Adrian DeLuca is nothing I can't handle."
Her father's expression darkened. "You underestimate him."
Valeria's lips curved, but she said nothing. Underestimating Adrian wasn't the problem. If anything, she found herself thinking of him more than she should.
The man was dangerous.
And that was exactly why she wanted to own him.
"I know what I'm doing," she assured, crossing her arms. "He's already intrigued. The next time we meet, he'll be dying to know more."
Lorenzo studied her carefully, his jaw tight. "You think this is a game, Valeria. But I know men like Adrian. He's not just another mafia heir to seduce and discard. He's a predator."
She arched a brow. "And what am I?"
His silence was answer enough.
Valeria pushed off the desk, smoothing her hands over her gown. "I'll make him trust me. And when the time comes, I'll take what we need."
Her father exhaled slowly, watching her like a general analyzing his finest weapon. "Be careful."
Valeria only smirked, turning toward the door. "I always am."
But as she left the study and ascended the grand staircase to her room, she knew her father's warning wasn't what lingered in her mind.
It was Adrian.
The way he had looked at her.
Like he already suspected she was dangerous.
Like he liked it.
Valeria slipped out of her dress, letting it pool around her feet as she stood before her vanity mirror. Her green eyes gleamed in the dim light as she traced a finger over the delicate ties of her mask before setting it down.
Her lips still tingled from the words she had whispered in his ear.
Her pulse still quickened at the thought of their next meeting.
Adrian DeLuca was no ordinary target.
But she had never been an ordinary woman.
And the next move?
It belonged to her.
★★★
Adrian leaned back in his leather chair, fingers steepled as the dim glow of the security monitors cast shifting shadows across his face. The footage from the masquerade ball flickered in front of him, looping the same scene over and over again. Her.
The masked woman.
The woman who had moved like a whisper, stolen his breath, and left him aching in ways he refused to acknowledge.
A slow exhale left his lips as he watched her on the screen, his icy blue eyes tracking her every move. The way she wove through the crowd, her dress clinging to every dangerous curve. The deliberate, teasing pace of her steps. The moment she turned, green eyes flashing beneath the mask, lips curving in a knowing smirk.
That smirk had been meant for him.
Adrian's jaw ticked as he leaned closer, watching himself appear in the frame. The moment he caught her wrist. The way she had let him touch her, as if she'd expected it. As if she had invited it.
Then there was the moment she had whispered against his ear, her body pressed so perfectly against his own, her voice laced with promises of sin and challenge.
His fingers curled into a fist.
Who the fuck was she?
He reached for his glass of whiskey, but the burn of the alcohol did nothing to erase the heat still lingering beneath his skin.
Adrian wasn't used to not knowing.
He wasn't used to being toyed with.
And he sure as hell wasn't used to a woman walking away from him with the upper hand.
His gaze flickered to the paused screen—her last glance over her shoulder, the damn wink that had tightened something low in his stomach.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he unpaused the footage, letting it continue.
Still, she was nothing but a ghost in silk.
No name. No history. No trace of where she came from.
He tapped the desk impatiently. She had to be someone. Someone important enough to be invited to an exclusive event like the masquerade. Someone with enough skill to slip a mask from his face without him even noticing.
And someone with a tattoo that read dangerous—a blatant warning or an ironic truth?
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
The door swung open, revealing Nikolai. His right-hand man stepped inside, his expression unreadable, though Adrian didn't miss the flicker of curiosity in his sharp gaze.
"You called?"
Adrian gestured toward the screen. "I want everything on her. Every detail, every possible connection. I don't care how many strings you have to pull."
Nikolai arched a brow as he took in the paused image of the masked woman. "She got under your skin that bad, huh?"
Adrian's glare was sharp enough to cut.
Nikolai smirked. "Understood. Any leads so far?"
"None," Adrian admitted, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "It's like she doesn't exist."
"Interesting." Nikolai tilted his head, considering. "She's not one of ours?"
Adrian shook his head. "If she was, I'd already know."
That was what bothered him the most. His network ran deep. No one walked into his world without him knowing exactly who they were. And yet, she had danced with him, teased him, whispered in his ear—and vanished like smoke.
Nikolai took a step closer, arms crossing. "You sure this is about information and not something else?"
Adrian's gaze was sharp, cutting.
Nikolai chuckled. "Relax, boss. I'll find her."
"Make sure you do."
Because Adrian wasn't letting this go.
Not until he had her name.
Not until he had her beneath him.