Chapter 4 Serafina's POV

Serafina's POV

The phone burned against my thigh like a brand. I didn't reach for it. Not yet.

I kept my face composed, my posture perfect, my smile soft enough to pass for devotion as Luca guided me through the ballroom. Laughter rippled around us. Glasses clinked. The orchestra resumed as if no one had just been offered up as a sacrifice.

This was how the De Santis empire functioned.Blood beneath silk Terror beneath music.

Around us, the guests smiled too easily. Laughter came half a second too late, eyes flicking toward Luca before every reaction, every breath measured. This wasn't a celebration. It was a performance and everyone here knew the cost of forgetting their lines.

I felt it in the way servants kept their heads bowed, in the way no one spoke above the music unless Luca allowed it. Luca's hand remained at my lower back, warm and possessive, steering me toward the head table.

I felt Matteo's presence across the room like a wound I refused to touch. I didn't look at him. Looking would be seen as a choice. And tonight, choice was deadly.

"Drink," Luca murmured, lifting a glass from the table and pressing it into my hand.

I froze.

The glass trembled slightly in my hand. Luca noticed of course he did.

His gaze followed the movement with predatory focus, measuring weakness the way other men measured desire. Around us, conversations continued, oblivious or pretending to be.

I wondered how many people at this table had swallowed poison with the same forced grace, smiling through their own executions.

Matteo's warning echoed in my head. Don't drink anything you didn't pour yourself. The wine was dark, almost black under the chandelier light.

"I'm not thirsty," I said lightly.

Luca's fingers tightened. Just a fraction. Enough. "You don't want to disappoint me," he said, still smiling for the guests.

Slowly, deliberately, I lifted the glass to my lips.

I didn't drink.

I let the rim touch my mouth, tilted it just enough to look convincing, then lowered it again. Luca watched closely, his eyes tracking my throat, waiting for me to swallow.

I didn't.

Something flickered behind his gaze. Not anger but suspicion.The phone vibrated again.This time, I excused myself.

"Bathroom," I murmured.

Luca hesitated, then nodded. "Don't be long."

I walked away with measured steps, pulse roaring in my ears. The hallway outside the ballroom was dimmer, quieter.

I rounded the corner and finally pulled the phone free.

Unknown Number.

Bathroom. Third stall. Now.

Cold spread through my chest.

This was it. The third eye. The watcher stepping closer. I pushed open the bathroom door and locked it behind me.

The marble sink reflected my face; calm, composed, unbroken. Lies, all of it.

I entered the third stall. The door creaked open behind me. Vittorio Moretti stepped inside and locked it.

I stiffened.

He leaned against the counter casually, as if we were sharing a private joke. "Relax," he said. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing."

"That's comforting," I replied flatly.

His smile widened. "You're smarter than Luca gives you credit for."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because Luca is losing control," Vittorio said simply. "And when kings grow paranoid, everyone suffers."

My jaw tightened. "You're playing both sides."

"I'm ensuring survival," he corrected. "Yours included." He reached into his jacket and placed something on the counter. A small flash drive.

"This contains financial records," Vittorio said. "Accounts Luca doesn't know I know about. Proof of laundering, bribery, and unauthorized executions."

My breath hitched. "Why give this to me?"

"Because Luca won't fall by force," Vittorio replied. "He'll fall by exposure. And you" his gaze sharpened

"are the crack in his armor."

I stared at the drive. "If he finds out-"

"He won't," Vittorio said. "Unless you hesitate."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Tonight is only the beginning. Luca wants to break you to keep Matteo obedient."

My chest constricted.

"So don't break," Vittorio continued. "Bend." The door rattled suddenly.

"Serafina?" Matteo's voice.

Vittorio smiled. "Your protector worries."

He slipped past me, unlocking the door just as Matteo entered.

Their eyes met years of history in a single glance.

"We'll speak again," Vittorio said lightly, brushing past Matteo as if he were nothing more than a servant.

Matteo turned to me instantly. "What did he give you?"

I clenched the flash drive in my fist. "A choice."

His jaw tightened. "That's never good."

Before either of us could say more, Luca's voice echoed down the hall.

"Serafina."

Matteo stepped back at once, expression shuttered.

I hid the flash drive in my clutch and walked toward Luca.

"Did you enjoy your break?" he asked pleasantly.

"Yes," I said. "Very refreshing."

His gaze lingered on me, assessing, calculating. "Good. Because I have another request."

My stomach dropped. He gestured toward the private lounge. The private lounge smelled of leather and old smoke.

No windows. No witnesses. The kind of room where decisions were finalized and regrets buried.

My pulse pounded as the door shut behind us, the click echoing louder than any gunshot. I already knew this wasn't about punishment. It was about a demonstration.

Inside, the maid knelt on the floor alive.

Barely. Her wrists were bound. Her face was streaked with tears. Relief flared in me then died as quickly as it came

.

Luca closed the door behind us.

"You spared her," he said. "That was... merciful."

"I told you she was innocent."

"Yes," Luca agreed. "Which is why this is so interesting."

He picked up a knife from the table.

Silver. Clean. Sharp.

"I won't ask you to kill her," Luca said, as if granting a gift. "That would be too easy."

My heart hammered.

"I want you to hurt her," he continued. "Just enough to remind her who she belongs to."

The room tilted.

"I can't," I whispered.

"You can," Luca said calmly. "Because if you don't-"

The door opened. Matteo was shoved inside by two guards.

Blood streaked his temple.

"-I finish what I started with him," Luca concluded.

The knife was pressed into my hand.

My fingers trembled.

The maid sobbed.

Matteo met my gaze.

And shook his head.

A single, subtle motion.

Don't.

Something inside me snapped into place.

I stepped forward.

Not toward the maid.

Toward Luca.

I dropped the knife.

Gasps filled the room.

"You want loyalty?" I said, my voice shaking but loud. "Then look at it."

I turned back to the maid, reached out and untied her wrists.

Chaos exploded.

Guards surged forward. Luca's face twisted in fury.

"Take her," he roared.

But before they could reach me, Matteo moved. Fast and brutal.

A guard went down. Then another. Luca stumbled back, shouting orders. I grabbed the maid's hand and ran. Gunfire cracked behind us.

Alarms blared.

The house erupted.

As we burst into the corridor, my phone vibrated one last time.

Unknown Number.

Now you've chosen a side.

I didn't look back.

Because I knew one thing for certain.

There was no going back anymore.