Chapter 1 Shadows of Truth

Isabella Vitale

The first rule of going undercover in the mafia don't flinch.

Not when a man twice your size stares you down. Not when blood pools at your feet like spilled wine. And definitely not when the most dangerous man in Naples walks into the room like he owns the air you breathe.

My heels struck the polished marble floor of Inferno a popular club the Gerardo empire used as a front. The club thrummed with bass and bodies, velvet walls swallowing secrets whole. Smoke, perfume, and power lingered in the air like ghosts.

I'd been here nine days. Just enough to know the staff. Just enough to be invisible.

And just enough for my instincts to start screaming that I was running out of time.

I stepped behind the bar, adjusting the black dress I hated - too tight, too exposed - but necessary. My badge was a ghost now, tucked into a safe miles away. In here, I was Bella Rossi. Cocktail waitress. College dropout. Perfect cover for a girl with a pretty face and a forgettable past.

Only one thing wasn't forgettable - my brother. Matteo.

...........

He'd died two years ago. An off-duty officer caught in the crossfire of a mafia deal gone wrong. The case was buried. No one prosecuted. No one cared.

But I did. And I wasn't here for justice only . I was here for answers.

"Bellissima," came a smooth voice beside me. Luca Gerardo. Middle brother.

Charmer. Arrogant. Always too close.

"You're late," he added with a smirk.

"Traffic," I lied.

He laughed, sliding me a bottle of top-shelf whiskey. "Naples traffic. Right. Listen, Don Gerardo is coming tonight. So smile pretty and keep your head down."

My heart stopped for a beat. Alessandro Gerardo.

The man I was sent to watch. The man the files called untouchable.

The man whose name my brother had scribbled in a notebook - a page I'd hidden ever since.

I didn't need the intel to know Alessandro was dangerous. I felt it.

In the way people spoke his name like a prayer or a threat.

In the way his siblings circled him like moons around a black star.

Luca leaned in. "Don't be nervous."

"I'm not."

He arched a brow. "That's what makes you interesting."

Before I could respond, the atmosphere shifted. The noise dimmed. Even the music softened, like the whole room exhaled.

He had arrived.

I didn't turn around. I didn't breathe. But I knew. He was watching me.

A low voice floated across the space. Calm. Lethal. "Is she the new one?"

It was for Luca. But I answered.

"I can speak for myself."

Silence stretched. Heavy. Sharp. And then... footsteps.

Slow. Precise. Deadly.

He stopped just in front of the bar. I looked up - and met his gaze.

Alessandro Gerardo.

Tailored charcoal suit. A single scar traced his upper lip, just enough to remind you he'd earned his crown the hard way. His eyes - pale gray - were as cold as the steel he likely carried.

"I like people who know their place," he said.

I smiled, cool. "Then it's a good thing I don't."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Not amusement. Not anger.

Something colder. Sharper.

A test.

But I held his gaze. If I backed down now, he'd own me. If I gave too much, he'd suspect.

After a beat, he turned his attention elsewhere. Just like that, I was dismissed. Or spared. I couldn't tell which.

Still, my pulse roared in my ears.

Because no one had warned me what his voice would do to me.

Not the files. Not the department.

No one said it would sound like sin dipped in smoke.

And as he walked away - power trailing behind him like perfume - I swore I could still feel him. Not looking. Not touching.

But marking me. Like I was a game he hadn't decided to play yet.

I poured a drink with steady hands, ignoring the tremble deep in my bones.

You're here to dismantle him, I reminded myself. Not to drown in his masculinity.

Gosh but God help me...

I already wanted to know what his voice sounded like in the dark.