Chapter 2 Velvet And Violence

The smell of money and danger always clung to velvet.

Anastasia Ruelle ducked her head, heart pounding beneath the plunging neckline of the stolen black dress that wasn't made for someone like her. The satin felt too soft against her skin, like it could tear apart at the slightest touch-like her plan tonight.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

The underground auction inside the Bellandi estate was a thing of whispered legend-an invite-only arena for the city's most powerful criminals to bid on art, artifacts, weapons, and things more dangerous than money. No cameras. No questions. No exits once the doors sealed.

But Ana had found a way in.

She always did.

Slipping past the first guard was easy. He liked pretty faces. Slipping past the second required more creativity-lipstick, a scalpel, and a whisper of distraction. Now she stood inside the lion's den, pretending she was one of them.

She wasn't.

She was the mouse.

And the lion was watching.

---

From the balcony above, Domenico Bellandi leaned against the iron railing, one hand in the pocket of his custom-tailored suit, the other wrapped around a tumbler of dark scotch. His eyes-gray, cold, lethal-tracked the girl in the crowd.

The one who didn't belong.

The one who looked like she was counting exit signs instead of diamonds.

The one who touched his display case.

She was quick. Careful. Almost invisible to the untrained eye.

But Domenico didn't miss much.

And he never forgave a thief.

Especially not one who dared to steal from the Bellandi legacy. Especially not that diamond-a rare black-cut piece passed down from blood to blood, from his father's coffin to his own private vault.

She'd just signed her own death warrant.

And yet, something about her made him pause.

The fire in her eyes.

The way her lips didn't tremble, even as her hands slipped the velvet box into her bag with the grace of a dancer.

She didn't know who he was.

Not yet.

But she would.

---

Ana made it to the back hallway before things went sideways.

A hand gripped her arm. Too strong. Too fast. She turned, fists ready, but the man was already behind her, whispering in her ear.

"You're in the wrong place, sweetheart."

She drove her knee into his gut. A clean hit. But another hand replaced his-this one colder, slower, and somehow much more terrifying.

When she turned again, she met him.

Domenico.

Closer now, his height shadowing her, his presence like ice seeping into bone. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't smile. He simply looked at her like a king inspecting a blade that dared turn against him.

"I'll give you five seconds to explain why my diamond is in your bag," he said calmly. "Or I'll start breaking bones until you do."

---

Ana didn't answer. She ran.

She didn't get far.

The guards closed in like wolves on a signal she never saw. One by one, the doors sealed. The exit she marked earlier-gone. The lights above dimmed as he approached, like the building itself knew who he was.

Domenico walked with the slow, deliberate pace of a predator who never had to chase.

He didn't yell.

He didn't run.

He just waited for her to realize she'd lost.

Ana's breath caught as her back hit the wall of the hallway, trapped. "You don't know me," she spat. "I didn't even know whose damn diamond it was."

He tilted his head slightly. "So you admit you stole it."

"I borrowed it," she corrected, chin high.

His smile was terrifying in its stillness. "Then you'll understand when I borrow you."

---

She didn't scream.

He liked that.

She didn't cry.

He hated that.

When she woke up, she was in a penthouse with floor-to-ceiling glass, a city skyline that looked like a cage made of light-and handcuffs that told her exactly where she stood.