Chapter 5 The Masks We Wear

Adriana's POV

It felt like we'd been arguing for hours, each of us throwing out ideas, dismissing others, then starting over again. The plan had to be perfect. One mistake could cost us everything, and we all knew it.

We were finally in Las Vegas, standing outside a Romano-owned casino that was like a fortress. The neon lights cast an eerie glow on everything, making everything look surreal, almost like a dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare. I wasn't sure anymore.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the casino, find the ledger, and get out. Easy, right? Except it wasn't. Not with the Romano family watching every move, every step.

"I still don't like this," I muttered, glancing at Ivan, who stood next to me.

We were supposed to pose as a couple, a charade that made my skin crawl. He knew I hated him. I knew he hated me. And now, here we were, pretending to be something we weren't. It felt wrong. It felt like we were pretending to be something we could never be.

"Do you have a better idea?" Ivan's voice was low, cool, but there was a sharpness underneath it that told me he wasn't any happier about the situation than I was.

"No," I snapped, biting my lip to keep from saying something I might regret.

Missi was already in the corner, applying the finishing touches on our makeup. She was a genius when it came to disguises, and right now, she was working her magic on us.

"You two look completely unrecognizable," she said with a smile as she stepped back, taking in the results of her work.

I couldn't help but stare at myself in the mirror. The woman staring back at me was someone I didn't even recognize-my hair pulled back, makeup done in a way that made my features sharper, my eyes colder. The face was mine, but the expression? It wasn't.

"Don't look so shocked, Adriana," Missi teased, her voice laced with amusement. "You look good. Now go act like it."

I glared at her, but I couldn't deny the truth. The disguise worked. I was no longer just Adriana Moretti, the daughter of the mafia. I was someone else-someone who didn't matter, someone who could slip under the radar.

Ivan, however, looked even more unrecognizable than me. His dark hair was styled differently, and his jaw was clean-shaven. He looked younger, softer, as if he were a completely different person. It was almost a shock to see him like this. The icy, distant Ivan was still there in his eyes, but everything about him felt like a façade now.

We made our way into the casino, the tension thick between us. I could feel his presence, his every movement, as we walked through the sleek, polished lobby. I hated the way his proximity affected me, how my body seemed to respond to him even when my mind screamed at me to resist.

We found a table in the middle of the casino floor. The noise of the games, the chatter, the clinking of chips, all of it was overwhelming, but we couldn't afford to get distracted.

I pulled out a chair, sitting down quickly. Ivan took the seat beside me, his posture casual, but his eyes scanning the room.

"I've been watching you two," a voice said from behind us.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Romano. The man who ran the place. His voice was low, controlled, like everything about him. And I could feel the weight of his gaze on us. He was suspicious, and I could tell he didn't trust us.

"Well, you're not the first," Ivan said, his voice calm, his tone casual.

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the fact that Romano's eyes were still on us. I hated this, hated that we were being watched, hated the fact that Ivan was still so damn composed while I felt like I might explode from the pressure.

Romano took a seat across from us. He wasn't here for small talk, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The moment he settled, I could feel his eyes on me-on us-and I couldn't help but feel exposed.

"I've been watching you two for a while," he repeated, his gaze flicking from me to Ivan.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my nerves in check. The last thing I needed right now was for this man to figure out that we were here for a reason that had nothing to do with a simple poker game.

I could feel Ivan's hand inching closer to mine under the table. I tensed, ready to pull my hand away, but then, without warning, his fingers brushed mine, and he kept them there. The touch was deliberate, almost too slow, and the moment his skin touched mine, my heart skipped a beat.

I froze, staring straight ahead, forcing myself to focus on the cards in my hand. But my mind was screaming at me to move, to pull away, to stop this madness before it went any further.

But I didn't.

I didn't pull away, even though every part of me screamed that this was wrong. We were pretending, pretending to be a couple, pretending to be something we weren't.

And yet, the longer his hand stayed there, the more the air between us thickened, charged with something I couldn't ignore. My pulse quickened, my breath shallow, as I tried to focus on the game. But I could feel his touch like a brand, like it was imprinted on my skin.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His face was still a mask, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. I wasn't sure if it was amusement or annoyance, but I couldn't quite place it.

I shook my head, telling myself to focus. We had a mission. We couldn't afford to get distracted. But even as I told myself that, I knew the truth. I was already distracted.

The cards were dealt, and I played them the best I could, but my mind was elsewhere. Romano was watching us, his gaze never leaving us for a second, and I knew that if we didn't keep up the charade, we were going to be caught.

Suddenly, without warning, Ivan leaned closer, and in one swift motion, pressed his lips to mine.

My breath caught, my heart stuttering as I felt the heat of his mouth on mine. It was soft, almost gentle, but I could feel the pressure of his lips, the intensity behind the kiss. It wasn't just a kiss-it was a statement. A declaration.

And I hated it.

I hated the way my body responded, the way my stomach fluttered, the way my heart raced. I hated that it felt like I had no control over my own reaction. But most of all, I hated the fact that I enjoyed it.

I wanted to push him away, to slap him across the face and tell him to never touch me again. But I didn't.

I let it happen, because we couldn't afford to get caught. We couldn't afford for Romano to suspect anything.

The kiss lingered for just a second longer, then Ivan pulled away, his eyes locked on mine, unreadable.

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him everything I was feeling, but I didn't. I couldn't. Not now.

Romano was still watching us, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge our next move. I didn't know if he believed our act, but I wasn't about to give him any reason to doubt it.

I turned my attention back to the table, my mind reeling. The kiss had been nothing, just a part of the game, right? But I couldn't shake the feeling that it meant more than that.

And I hated that I didn't know what it meant.