Chapter 2 First Encounter

The heavy knock came like a final sentence.

Valencia stood at the top of the stairs, still in her white robe, fingers gripping the banister. She didn't need to look to know it was him.

She felt him.

Luca Moretti didn't walk into a room-he entered like a verdict. Like something had been decided before anyone could object. The second the door opened, his presence spilled in like smoke and steel. He didn't have to say a word; the air changed for him.

She watched him from the shadows of the staircase as he stepped into her father's estate like he already owned it.

Dark hair slicked back, jaw sharp like it was carved in defiance of mercy, and eyes-God, those eyes. Grey and stormy. Like they'd seen too much and burned everything they couldn't control. A man made of secrets and silent threats.

He wasn't smiling. Good. Neither was she.

He looked up, locking eyes with her, and for a second, the whole world paused.

No words. Just heat. Challenge. Warning.

And something else neither of them wanted to name.

He took one step forward, slow and deliberate. The sound of his polished shoes echoed through the marble foyer like gunshots. The kind that didn't miss.

"Valencia."

Her name in his mouth sounded like a promise and a sentence all at once.

His voice was low. Velvet lined with threat.

She met him at the foot of the stairs, each step measured, her chin high, back straight-even though her pulse was a war drum beneath her skin.

"Luca."

He smiled then, just a little. Enough to unsettle. Enough to say: You think you know fire?

"You're just as they said."

She arched an eyebrow. "And what exactly did they say?"

"That you don't scare easy."

"That depends," she said coolly, "on what you're trying to scare me with."

There was a pause. A shared silence that stretched too long. Then a low chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Valencia stepped closer, closing the distance like a dare. "Just don't mistake me for something you can tame."

He tilted his head, amused. "Who said I wanted to tame you?"

And for the first time, her breath caught.

Because Luca Moretti wasn't playing a game.

He was the game.

Her father cleared his throat from behind them, suddenly remembering he existed. "Why don't we sit down? Get to know each other before tomorrow."

Neither of them moved right away. Luca didn't take his eyes off her, and she didn't blink.

"I already know everything I need to," he said finally.

Valencia's jaw tightened. "Good. Then we won't waste each other's time."

"Time with you could never be a waste."

She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a warning.

He finally turned and walked toward the sitting room like he already knew the house better than its owner. She followed, reluctantly, her bare feet silent against the floor, though her mind was anything but calm.

They sat opposite each other-two storms on a collision course. The silence between them was not empty. It was loaded.

"Tell me something true," he said suddenly.

She blinked. "What?"

"Something real. Anything."

Valencia leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "I hate silk."

His eyes flicked to her robe. "Noted."

"And you?" she asked.

"I don't sleep. Not more than two hours."

She frowned slightly. "Insomnia?"

"No. Control."

The word sat heavy between them like a weapon placed gently on the table.

She studied him more carefully. There was no twitch in his jaw, no flicker of insecurity. He was all stillness and intent. Like a bomb waiting for the right fuse.

He leaned forward slightly. "And you, Valencia? What do you want most?"

She didn't flinch. "Freedom."

His gaze didn't waver. "Then earn it."

A chill skated down her spine. Not because she feared him. But because somehow, without saying too much, he'd just made it clear-this wasn't going to be simple. This marriage wasn't going to be a leash. It was going to be a test. A battlefield. And Luca Moretti didn't look like the kind of man who gave second chances.

"You talk like you're doing me a favor," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"I am," he replied.

She let out a dry laugh. "You're arrogant."

"No," he said, "I'm honest."

There was no bravado in his tone. Just pure, brutal certainty.

"And if I said I wasn't going to go through with it?" she asked, searching his face.

"You will."

"You sound sure."

"I am."

"Because you think I'm weak?" she challenged.

"No," he said slowly, "because I think you're smart."

She stared at him, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't a threat. It wasn't flattery either. Just truth, raw and unapologetic.

Her father spoke again from the corner. "Valencia-"

"I wasn't talking to you," she snapped, not even glancing at him.

Luca smirked at that. "You're sharp. Dangerous."

"I've had to be."

He nodded once, slowly. "Good. Then we'll survive each other."

She stood up, her robe falling like snow around her feet. "We'll see."

He rose too, towering, composed, watching her like a puzzle he intended to solve piece by piece.

And as she turned to leave the room, she felt his eyes on her back.

She hated it.

But what terrified her more...

Was that a small part of her didn't.