Chapter 4 Bella's Pov

CHAPTER FOUR

Bella's POV

By nightfall, my phone was an explosion of notifications I couldn't bear to look at. Messages from friends I hadn't talked to in years, news outlets tagging me, strangers posting the video on every platform imaginable.

The title was mostly, "Valentine's Bride: Manhattan's Most Impulsive Proposal."

I didn't know what to think about all of it.

One minute, I was trying to propose to a man that I thought was my boyfriend. The next minute, I was going viral as somebody else fiancee.

I locked myself in my apartment, hiding in the dark with only the glow of the city through my window for company. Even though Ava was sleeping on the couch, couldn't sleep.

And then, at midnight, a knock, sharp and insistent, sounded on my door.

I froze. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Ava, who was still around, whispered, "Who... who would knock at this hour?"

I didn't answer. I crept to the door, peeking through the peephole.

Then my heart stopped at what I saw.

Luciano Moretti.

He was there on my porch.

He had a black coat with his hands in pockets and he was standing with that impossible, composed posture that seemed to mock the chaos I felt right now upon seeing him.

His hair was perfectly in place despite the night wind. His eyes-gray storms-pierced through the glass, unmoving, unreadable.

There were some men, dressed in black suits behind him.

I swallowed hard when I saw a black limousine behind them.

I swallowed, trembling.

How the hell had he known where I was staying?

Only a few hours ago, the only thing I knew about him was that he was the lord of the underworld and Ethan's boss. Nothing else.

He didn't know me.

So how did he know my place? How?

Just then, a voice in my head answered me, "That's why he is the king of the underworld. He knows how to get information in a matter of seconds."

Knowing that the voice was right, I sighed deeply and then I opened the door.

"You made me a public figure," he said evenly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The apartment seemed too small for the space he took up, the quiet authority he radiated. "Now we fix it."

Glad that Ava had gone inside my bedroom, I gaped at him, frozen. "Fix... what?"

He closed the door with a calm, deliberate click, his coat brushing against the floor like silk. "This," he said, nodding toward the scattered glow of my phone screen, notifications buzzing endlessly. "The... spectacle you created. My face, my name... your 'proposal.' Everything."

I could barely speak. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You didn't think," he said, cutting me off smoothly. "I know." He stepped closer, and the apartment seemed to shrink further, the air thickening around us. "But thinking doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that the world has now seen this, and my business interests... my privacy... are compromised."

I swallowed hard, feeling the chill of the apartment mix with the heat of his presence. "So... what... what do you want me to do?"

Luciano's gray eyes softened fractionally, just enough to make my stomach quiver. "We pretend it's real. Our engagement should be made real until the story dies. Public appearances, posts, interviews... we do all of it to control the narrative. In exchange," he paused, letting the weight of his words land, "I guarantee your safety. Nobody interferes with you. Nobody harms you."

I blinked, the words sinking in.

Safety. Protection...I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

My heart thudded. "You... you want me...you want us to... fake it?"

He nodded once. "Exactly. The world is in a frenzy and wants us to be engaged right now. You say yes to the world. I say yes to you staying unharmed. Simple."

This was ridiculous, I thought.

I wanted to laugh, scream, cry, collapse all at once. Everything was ridiculous right now. So ridiculous.

"And... what if I say no?"

Luciano's expression hardened, the storm in his eyes sharpening in a way that caused chills to run down my spine. "Trust me, darling, you don't want to find out."

A cold shiver ran down my spine again and yet in a surprising manner, the raw, reckless part of me that had proposed earlier stirred again.

This man in front of me wasn't just dangerous. He was... magnetic. Dominant. A storm I might willingly step into.

And as he leaned slightly closer, the air between us charged with a tension that made my breath hitch, I realized one thing: my life had just spiraled into chaos, and there was no turning back.

Not from him.

Not from what had happened.

Not from the world that was now watching me as Bella Hart, the Valentine's Bride.