The sharp click of Zaria's heels echoed through the marble halls of Castello Enterprises, her grip tightening around the file in her hands. Another day of navigating the cutthroat legal world, tangled in the affairs of a man feared by many—Luca Moretti.
As one of his legal practitioners, her job was simple in theory—handle business contracts, keep his empire from legal scrutiny, and ensure every loophole was closed before the authorities could even sniff around. But nothing about working for Luca was ever simple.
She had been summoned to his office without explanation. That alone was enough to unnerve her. .Luca Moretti never summoned anyone unless it was serious.
Zaria adjusted the collar of her fitted blouse, willing herself to stay composed as she reached the heavy double doors of his office. She knocked once.
"Enter," his deep voice commanded from the other side.
She pushed the doors open, stepping inside with practiced confidence. The room was massive, lined with glass windows that overlooked the city skyline. But it was the man behind the sleek black desk that commanded all attention.
Luca sat with an air of effortless dominance, his black suit crisp against the expensive leather chair. He wasn't just powerful—he was lethal. His presence alone could make grown men break into a sweat.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto her the moment she stepped in, scanning her with an unreadable expression.
"Zaria," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "Close the door."
She hesitated for only a second before obeying. The soft click of the door shutting sent a shiver down her spine.
"You called for me, sir?" she asked, keeping her voice professional.
Luca smirked at the formal address, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. "Drop the act. You and I both know that 'sir' doesn't suit me when it comes from your lips."
Zaria's breath hitched, but she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. Luca had a way of getting under her skin, testing her limits, pushing buttons she wasn't sure she wanted pressed.
"I prefer to keep things professional, Mr. Moretti," she replied coolly.
His smirk widened. "Professional? You're the only lawyer I've ever had who refuses to smile at me."
"Maybe if you weren't always dragging me into questionable legal situations, I'd have more reason to."
Luca chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent chills through her. "Fair enough."
He stood, slowly rounding the desk until he was in front of her, far too close for comfort. Zaria refused to step back, even when he invaded her space, towering over her.
His cologne—a mix of expensive leather and dark spice—wrapped around her senses, making it hard to focus.
"I need you to handle something for me," he murmured. "A contract dispute with a company that thinks they can challenge me."
Zaria nodded, relieved that this was purely business. "Of course. Send me the details, and I'll take care of it."
Luca tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Then, without warning, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Zaria stiffened. This was dangerous.
His fingers lingered at her jaw, his touch deceptively soft. "You're always so tense around me," he mused.
"That's because you enjoy making people uncomfortable," she shot back.
Luca grinned. "Not people. Just you."
Her heartbeat was too loud in her ears. She needed to get out of here before she did something reckless—like let herself fall under his spell.
"If there's nothing else, I should get back to work," she said, stepping away.
Luca didn't stop her, but as she reached the door, his voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Zaria."
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
"Don't trust anyone." His expression darkened, the playful smirk gone. "Not in this world."
A chill ran down her spine, but she forced herself to nod before slipping out of the room.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Zaria a stepped out of the shopping mall, her red-bottom black heels clicking against the pavement. The flawless, form-fitting red dress hugged her curves like it had been crafted with her in mind, an elegant statement of power and allure. Her long, black hair cascaded in soft curls, complementing her carefully applied makeup. She knew she looked good, and for once, she allowed herself to appreciate it.
She glanced around and spotted the convoy of five blacked-out vehicles waiting for her, each heavily secured. Vick, Luca's trusted hitman, stood by a sleek Lamborghini—the car meant to take her to Luca. The streets buzzed with chatter and movement, but she paid no attention to the people around her. As she approached, Vick himself stepped forward, opening the door for her.
Just as they pulled away, another convoy appeared, speeding down the street before screeching to a halt, effectively blocking their path. The moment business owners spotted the vehicles, they wasted no time—doors slammed shut, storefronts locked, and within seconds, the once-busy street became eerily silent.
The first car's door flew open, and Damian emerged, gun in hand. Without hesitation, he charged forward. But Luca's men were trained for this. Sensing the threat, they poured out of their vehicles, weapons drawn, ready for war.
Gunfire erupted. The air is filled with the deafening cracks of bullets and the acrid scent of burning metal.
Vick yanked the door open and pulled Zaria out just as the car became a bullet-ridden shell. Her heart pounded as the chaos unfolded around her. Panic surged through her veins as she realized—she was completely exposed.
She turned to run, but her heels made her movements sluggish. Fear clawed at her throat, making her breaths come out in shallow gasps.
"Get her to safety!" Vick barked.
Two of Luca's men immediately flanked her, shielding her with their bodies. They moved quickly, pushing forward despite the relentless hail of bullets.
Then—one of them went down.
Blood sprayed across the pavement as he collapsed. Zaria gasped, her body trembling, but the second man didn't even hesitate. He kept moving, dragging her along, his grip firm and unyielding.
She stumbled into the mall, her hands pressing against the cold glass doors as she turned back. Through the chaos, she spotted Vick slumped on the ground, blood seeping through his pant leg. He grimaced, ripping off his coat to use as a makeshift tourniquet.
e barely had time to process it before the mall doors burst open.
Damian.
Her stomach dropped.
Before she could react, he lunged, grabbing her by the wrist. She twisted, trying to yank herself free, but he was stronger—far stronger.
"No—"
Her scream was cut off as he hauled her outside.
Vick, struggling against the pain, lifted his gun and fired. The bullet barely missed Damian, but it wasn't enough. There were too many of them.
The last thing she saw before the car door slammed shut was Vick, defeated, watching as they sped off.
Zaria's breathing was erratic, her mind racing. The car's interior was dark, suffocating. She fumbled, hands shaking, searching for anything she could use to break free.
Then the car stopped.
This was her chance.
She slammed her fists against the trunk, kicking at it as she screamed for help. But no one came.
Rough hands yanked the trunk open, grabbing her without a care for whether she was hurt. She fought, twisting and thrashing, but it was useless. They dragged her across the courtyard of a massive estate—Sultan's mansion.
Fear coiled deep in her gut.
They didn't take her inside the main house. Instead, they led her to a hidden door beneath the mansion. A basement? No—worse. The Arctic.
Sultan's torture chamber.
Panic clawed at her throat. She struggled harder, but the men simply laughed at her efforts before shoving her inside. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, sealing her fate.
She was trapped.
Her chest heaved as she took in her surroundings. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, the dim lighting casting eerie shadows against the concrete walls.
There was no escape.
Zaria sank to the floor, her fingers digging into her arms as a shudder wracked her body.
She had survived the ambush. But now…
Now, she was at Sultan's mercy.