Chapter 7 Masquerade Shadows

Rome shimmered in golden twilight as Elena stepped out of the black town car. The opulent Palazzo Rosetti loomed before her, its façade illuminated by flaming sconces and elegant strings of lights that wove through the marble pillars like veins of gold. The masquerade was in full swing-music drifted from the open doors, laughter spilling into the night air.

She wore a crimson gown that clung to her like liquid fire. A silver Venetian mask, laced in black velvet, concealed half her face. Every step she took echoed with purpose. This wasn't a party-it was a hunt.

Alessandro joined her at the base of the steps, clad in a tailored black suit with a matching mask that made his chiseled features seem even more enigmatic. When he offered his arm, she took it without hesitation.

"Remember," he whispered, "we're not here to make a scene. Our target is Matteo Verona. He financed the hit on your family. He'll be watching everyone."

Elena nodded. "So we make him watch the wrong people."

Inside, the ballroom was a swirl of decadence-gilded mirrors, chandeliers dripping with crystals, masked dancers moving like shadows. Alessandro disappeared into the crowd, leaving Elena to begin her role.

She moved like a flame, drawing attention and whispers. Men turned to look, women narrowed their eyes. But it was all part of the illusion.

Then she saw him-Matteo Verona. Grey hair slicked back, a half-mask covering his heavy jaw. He stood near the bar, flanked by two bodyguards dressed like elegant wolves. His eyes scanned the crowd with detached boredom.

Elena approached slowly. Her heart pounded, but her steps didn't falter. At the bar, she brushed beside him and smiled. "This party has teeth."

Matteo turned, eyebrows raised. "And fangs, if you know where to look."

They spoke in riddles, trading small talk laced with veiled threats. Elena played the role perfectly-a bored heiress with a dangerous streak. She let him flirt, let him believe he held the power.

Until Alessandro appeared behind him, speaking low in his ear.

"Matteo. Long time."

The older man paled. "Alessandro De Luca. You're not invited."

"I rarely am."

Tension bloomed like smoke. Matteo's guards shifted subtly, but Alessandro raised a hand.

"We're just talking."

Elena took the chance to slip away toward the gardens, just as planned. Matteo followed minutes later-curious, intrigued, unaware that Marco and two armed men now controlled the exits.

In the rose garden, moonlight cast silver onto Elena's gown. She turned as Matteo approached, feigning surprise.

"Leaving already?" he asked.

"I prefer the night air. The ball is... stifling."

He stepped closer. "You're not who you pretend to be."

She smiled coolly. "Neither are you."

In that moment, Alessandro emerged from the shadows, gun drawn but concealed behind his back.

"You paid Lucia to kill her family," he said. "You signed their death warrants with a glass of champagne."

Matteo froze. "It was just business."

"To you," Elena said, voice hard. "To me, it was everything."

Marco stepped in, securing Matteo's arms before he could reach for his weapon.

Alessandro leaned in close. "You'll tell us everything. Names. Routes. Accounts. Or I'll let her decide your fate."

Matteo's bravado cracked.

As the team exited through the rear gardens, Matteo in custody, Elena looked up at the Roman sky.

She had danced with her family's killer.

And now, she held his future in her hands.