Kiss Me While The World Burns

Fifteen years ago

"Dad, does mummy hate us?"

Eight-year-old Victoria asked, clutching the white and silver-studded teddy bear designed specifically for her by her father, Damien De Luca. Smiling down at his daughter, whose gray eyes shimmered with innocence, Damien crouched to her height.

"Honey, mummy doesn't hate us, okay? She simply went on a vacation with her friend," he explained softly, gently smoothing down her blonde hair.

Tilting her head to the side, Victoria's brow furrowed. "But the other day, she said she hates us. Was she lying?"

Damien exhaled heavily. How could he explain to a child that her mother meant every word, and that she had already signed the divorce papers? Praying for any kind of interruption, he pulled her into a tight hug instead.

Right then, a well-built bodyguard walked up to them, giving Damien a sharp nod.

"Honey, father has to go to work now. I promise to get you more diamond-studded teddies when I return, alright?" Damien smiled, gently breaking the hug.

Victoria beamed. She watched Damien stride out of the living room before running straight to the balcony to watch him drive out of the compound.

Her tiny brows furrowed when she saw the chauffeur frantically gesturing for her father to hurry. Thinking they were simply running late, she brushed it off and turned to head back inside. But the exact moment her father stepped into the SUV, the vehicle went up in a blinding sheet of flames.

PRESENTLY

The fire that consumed Damien De Luca's SUV didn't just kill a father; it incinerated the innocent, gray-eyed girl who had been waiting on the balcony with a silver-studded teddy bear.

Out of those ashes, a creature of pure ice and unyielding stone was born.

Victoria De Luca learned a brutal lesson at eight years old: mercy was a luxury for the dead, and power was the only shield against a cruel world. Fifteen years later, the little girl was gone, replaced by a ruthless Empress who traded stuffed toys for real diamonds-and real blood.

Now, the only screams she listened to belonged to those foolish enough to cross her.

"Boss... please... I beg of you... let me go... I'll pay you back in two weeks! Please spare my pregnant wife!!"

The agonizing cries of a man undergoing a brutal interrogation echoed through the vast, empty aquarium room.

Underneath his desperate pleading were the low, terrified whimpers of a frightened woman.

"You think I'd let you go after the stunt you pulled?" A chilling, emotionless feminine voice rang through the space, followed by a dark, soft chuckle.

Stepping down from her custom, diamond-studded chair, Victoria walked toward the pregnant woman who was crouching on the floor, hands shielding her head.

"You left your wife alone for months after you took a loan from me. Now that I've come to collect my money, you dare to play the 'doting husband' in front of my face? How despicable," Victoria hissed.

She raised a gloved hand toward the whimpering woman, but paused mid-air when the man shrieked in terror.

"I'm wrong! Please forgive me! I'll pay it back in two weeks! Empress Victoria! I beg of you! Mercy!" The man crawled forward on his knees, desperately reaching out to grab the hem of her coat.

The moment his bruised, bloodied skin made contact with her clothing, her guards sprang into action.

Peeling his broken body away from her, they dragged him back into the center of the room and began administering a ruthless beating.

Victoria watched with a chilling, satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Darling, tell me. Should I kill him, or would you like to do the honors?" Victoria asked, turning her manicured gaze to the terrified wife.

On cue, Kany, clad in a sleek black leather outfit, strode over to the pregnant woman and presented a heavy, silver P226 pistol.

Her heart racing, the woman's eyes darted frantically between the feared Mafia Empress, the cold steel of the weapon, and her disloyal husband.

"Will you kill him? Or should I help you?" Victoria asked again, taking a slow, elegant step closer.

Noticing the woman's intense trembling, Victoria flashed a remarkably sweet smile, putting her deep dimples on display. "Come on, honey. I don't bite."

The guards stepped back, leaving the bloodied man groaning on the concrete floor as they melted back into the shadows.

Terrified of offending the beautiful she-devil standing over her, the woman took the gun, her hands shaking as she aimed it directly at her husband. The man's jaw went slack.

His eyes widened in absolute horror as he watched his once-submissive wife aim a lethal firearm at his chest.

But who else could he blame? He had abandoned his pregnant wife to squander a fourteen-million-dollar loan on cheap thrills, bitches and booze.

"Olive... Olive, my dearest, please put the gun down," he stammered, tears and snot staining his bruised face as he tried to reason with her.

Olive, whose green floral dress was heavily splattered with his blood, ignored his pleas entirely. She spat at his feet. "You dare beg me now? You left me! You called my unborn child a bastard! You called me a slut, and now you want mercy? I hate you, Clark! I hate you!"

She choked back a sob, stretching her arms out as she struggled against the heavy weight of the pistol. Her index finger slipped over the cold trigger.

Sensing her hesitation, Victoria glided over elegantly, crouching down beside her. "Think wisely before you pull that trigger, little bird. The aftermath of your choice here will be your ultimate undoing," Victoria whispered, her gloved fingers trailing softly down Olive's exposed spine, sending a violent shiver down the woman's back.

Victoria had given her a strict ultimatum earlier: either the syndicate would execute Clark, or Olive would take her own vengeance.

Steeling her heart, Olive cleared her throat, her voice suddenly ringing out with absolute resolution. "I will kill him myself."

Victoria giggled delightedly, standing up and clapping her hands together in a slow, mocking rhythm. "That's the spirit, girl! I can assure you, your child will grow up thankful for what you did today."

Hearing those words, an overwhelming wave of pressure crashed over Olive. What does she mean? Why do I feel like I'm stepping into a trap? she thought, her eyes locking back onto Clark's pleading face.

But the memory of his betrayal twisted her confusion into pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Well, screw you!!" Olive screamed.

BANG.

Right before her eyes, Clark collapsed backward onto the cold floor. A neat, dark bullet hole bloomed instantly right between his eyes, blood pooling rapidly around his head.

"You are quite brave, Olive."

Victoria's smooth, emotionless voice drifted from directly behind her. Before Olive could process the words, the cold metal muzzle of Victoria's custom-built gun was pressed firmly against her scalp.

Olive's heart stopped, her veins throbbing with pure terror as the steel bit into her skin. "E... Empress... I... I did exactly what you asked me to do," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"What did I ask you to do? Honey, I didn't ask you to do a single thing. I simply asked you to make a choice. I never told you to execute my prisoner, did I?" Victoria asked, a malicious, stunning smile gracing her features.

Standing in the background, Kany kept her expression perfectly blank, though she secretly wanted to sigh.

Her boss had explicitly told her to hand over the gun to let Olive kill him. Victoria simply loved to mentally torture her targets.

At a loss for words, Olive swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the sharp, metallic click of Victoria cocking the pistol echoed through the quiet aquarium. "I have nothing left to lose anyway, Olive thought," bracing for the impact of the bullet.

But death never came.

Instead, Victoria lowered the weapon, turning on her heel and walking away with a slow, hypnotic sway of her hips. Her long, waist-length blonde hair-a striking contrast to her dark underworld aura-bounced perfectly as she exited the room.

Olive snapped her eyes open, her face a mask of profound confusion and fear.

"The Empress never had any intention of killing you," Kany informed her, offering a practiced, plastic smile as she gestured toward the secure exit where a fleet of luxury sedans sat waiting. "On the contrary, she wishes for you to live a pleasant life without ever having to depend on scum again."

Olive's jaw dropped. "What..."

Before she could speak, Kany pressed a bank cheque into her trembling, blood-stained hands.

"Take this, leave the country, and start a completely new life. But remember this: the next time my boss sees your face, she won't hesitate to pull the trigger."

Without waiting for a response, Kany turned and slipped into the passenger seat of the lead black sedan. Within moments, the fleet tore out of the compound, leaving Olive standing completely alone in the courtyard.

Inside the luxury vehicle, Victoria took a slow, deep drag from a slim cigarette, watching the international business news flash across her tablet screen. After a long moment of heavy silence, her gray eyes darkened.

"Kany. Any news on my weapon designer?" she asked coldly.

Kany, who was busy reloading her sidearm, turned around to face her leader. "We finally got solid intel on him. His name is Giordano Salvatore. To the public, he's the city's most coveted bachelor and the brilliant billionaire CEO of DanTech. But the cybersecurity firm is a mere front for his true operations. In the underworld, he controls the largest black-market manufacturing corporation for high-grade cyber ammunition and military weapon systems."

Hearing the briefing, a sharp, calculating smirk spread across Victoria's lips. She had known his name for a while, but she had never had a reason to cross paths with his empire.

Until now.

"Seems like we will be meeting very soon, Giordano."

Ever since she received an encrypted anonymous file two years ago revealing that her father's death was an orchestrated execution rather than an accident, Victoria had been obsessed with acquiring high-yield tactical weapons.

Society expected her to take her evidence to the authorities, but the trauma of watching her father explode to pieces had stripped her of any respect for justice.

She was a broken doll, entirely void of empathy, fueled solely by a thirst for absolute vengeance. And she was going to tear down whoever planned that explosion, piece by piece.

Turning her cold gaze out the tinted window, she snapped her tablet shut.

"Take me straight to DanTech. It's time to pay our new business partner a visit."

The sharp, rhythmic clinking of designer stiletto heels shattered the pristine silence of the DanTech corporate reception lobby. Victoria's grand entry struck the room like a sudden drop in atmospheric pressure, instantly radiating an aura of absolute dominance that left the employees frozen in place.

Kany walked a precise step behind her, a matte black leather file clutched firmly in her hand. Together, the duo looked less like corporate executives and more like a high-profile execution squad making their way toward the private VIP elevator.

"M... Miss... Miss Victoria... to what do we owe this unexpected... pl... pleasure?"

A top-level secretary in his early thirties stuttered frantically, struggling to match his stride with Victoria's unusually fast, predatory pace. Receiving nothing but a cold shoulder, he swallowed hard and pressed further. "I... presume you are here to see the CEO..."

Reaching the gold-plated VIP elevator bank, Victoria paused while Kany swiftly keyed in the override bypass. Deciding to spare the trembling manager a glance, Victoria turned her head slowly, her silver-gray eyes boring into him.

"Would I come all this way to see you, or the lazy, gossiping pack of fools your boss calls a workforce?" she asked smoothly. Her voice was laced with a delicate hint of mockery as she tilted her chin toward the paralyzed reception desk.

Victoria wasn't just notorious in the underworld as a cold-blooded Empress; she was equally revered in the upper echelons of high society as the "Diamond Queen." Owning a multi-billion-dollar global jewelry empire at the tender age of twenty-three made her a lethal force to be reckoned with.

While her public-facing persona was an angel in human form-bringing brilliant young designers into the light and funding international orphanages-the elite knew the truth. No one stole from the Diamond Queen and lived to tell the tale. If a single speck of diamond dust went missing from her vaults, she would systematically hunt down whoever was responsible.

"N... No, madam," the manager whispered, bowing his head in submission. "It's just that Mr. Salvatore is currently in a closed-door meeting with-"

Ding.

The elevator doors glided open, cutting the man off entirely. Victoria, who had lazily tucked her gloved hand inside her tailored wool coat, froze. Her long, dark lashes fluttered slightly as her gaze traced the man standing inside the cabin-from his perfectly ironed tuxedo trousers up to the powerful, well-toned contours of his chest.

Interrupted by the sudden breach of his private lift, the lone man inside raised a dark brow. The manager instantly scrambled backward, his face turning pale. Everyone at DanTech knew that Giordano Salvatore despised unsolicited physical proximity, especially when he didn't initiate it himself.

"Mr. Salvatore... they..." the manager choked out.

Giordano's intense, onyx-colored gaze locked instantly onto Victoria's striking blonde locks. He slowly raised a hand, a silent command for his employee to shut his mouth.

"I'll take it from here, Bruce," his deep, rich baritone voice rang out. The sheer, seductive resonance of his tone sent a subtle shiver down the spine of even Kany, who had been trained from birth by the De Luca syndicate to be entirely immune to the charms of the opposite sex.

Maintaining a pristine poker face, Giordano stepped forward. "Miss De Luca, to what do I owe this surprise?"

Victoria smirked. "From your lack of surprise, I wouldn't call it one. You clearly anticipated my arrival." She shrugged elegantly, breaking eye contact to let her gaze linger on his silk necktie. Smiling, she took a slow, predatory step into the elevator cabin. "I see you are wearing my company's latest winter piece."

She drawled the words out as her slender, dark-painted nails slowly grazed the diamond-encrusted tie clip resting against his chest.

Smirking, Giordano smoothly caught her wrist, his grip firm but careful. "What can I say? I have an unyielding eye for exquisite things."

Victoria mentally rolled her eyes. In a movement so incredibly swift and unexpected that Kany actively flinched, Victoria grabbed the silk tie and wrapped it aggressively around his knuckles, jerking Giordano down. His eyes bulged slightly as his breath hitched.

"Lady boss... not again..." Kanu thought, discreetly massaging her chest to calm her racing heart.

Out in the lobby, Bruce and the surrounding DanTech staff stood paralyzed, their jaws dropping to the floor. "B... Boss!" Bruce gasped in sheer fright. His hand twitched, itching to reach for his phone to summon corporate security, but his survival instincts won. "There is no way I am risking my life today," he thought, silently apologizing to his employer.

The collective silence broke into collective screams as a sleek, black metal firearm materialized in Victoria's hand.

"One more sound out of any of you, and I will ensure it is the absolute last noise you ever make," Victoria threatened coldly, burying the muzzle of her weapon deep into Giordano's spine.

On that exact cue, the glass entry doors of the building burst open. A tactical squad of black-clad, heavily armed syndicate men swarmed the lobby, seamlessly raising their automatic rifles at the trembling staff.

Instantly, the bustling corporate headquarters became as silent as the bottom of the ocean.

"Ensure no one leaves this floor," Victoria ordered.

Kany and the strike team nodded in unison. With her free hand, Victoria violently shoved Giordano back into the depths of the elevator cabin before Kany pressed the button for the penthouse executive suite.

In the claustrophobic space of the rising elevator, Victoria mounted heavy pressure with the gun against his back, leaning close to whisper coldly in his ear, "How did you know I was coming?"

Giordano scoffed, though a slow, calculating smirk spread across his handsome face. He didn't flinch at the cold steel pressing into his spine. Why would he?

His private security servers had flagged her luxury convoy the moment her black sedans crossed into the financial district. He had deliberately ordered Bruce to leave the VIP elevator entirely unsecured just for her.

He wasn't a victim; he was an apex predator welcoming a very dangerous guest to a chessboard he had already set up.

"You think I'd be stupid enough to keep the country's most lethal woman in the dark about my capabilities?" he asked, his baritone voice perfectly steady, carrying a dangerous edge of sheer amusement. "You still haven't told me why you've graced me with your royal presence, Empress. Did I accidentally step on your pretty toes, or did you finally swallow the bait I left for you in the underworld?"

Ding.

The elevator doors parted, revealing a sprawling executive reception floor lined with four identical executive desks.

Giordano's private secretaries raised their heads in unison, but upon seeing their multi-billionaire boss held at gunpoint by the notorious Diamond Queen, they swiftly lowered their heads in absolute terror.

The moment they breached the threshold of his private, mahogany-lined office, Victoria moved with lethal grace. Pushing him back against his massive wooden desk, she performed a swift, flawless split, her left leg slamming onto the wood to completely lock him in place. Gun in hand, she lowered her face to meet his, a sultry, deadly smile playing on her lips.

"Are you still interested in knowing why I decided to grace you with my presence?"

Giordano looked down at the slender, leather-clad leg pinning him against his own desk, then raised his onyx eyes to meet her icy silver gaze. He didn't look like a hostage facing an executioner; he looked like a man who had just won the ultimate bet. He casually leaned back against the mahogany, completely unfazed by the weapon inches from his nose bridge.

"Seductive tactics, Miss De Luca? I expected something a bit more creative from the Diamond Queen," Giordano murmured, his eyes locking onto hers with a dark, predatory focus. "You wouldn't risk exposing your underworld identity in a public corporate building just to threaten a cybersecurity CEO. You need something only I can build. So let's drop the theatrical stance and talk percentages."

Enraged by his unshakeable boldness, Victoria didn't hesitate. She shifted her aim and fired a single, deafening round directly into the mahogany table, centimeters from his thigh. The wood splintered violently, the echoing blast forcing him to finally fall silent.

"I don't need to seduce a scaredy-cat to get exactly what I want," she hissed, her face inches from his as she held his gaze without a single blink.

Giordano slowly sat up, the narrow distance between their lips crackling with an intense, primal energy. A reckless, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Well, why don't you tell me why you're here then? Because this is starting to look less like a threat and more like a proposition."

Reaching out, Victoria grabbed his forearm, twisting his wrist behind his back with a practiced, brutal wrench. Giordano let out a low groan, caught off guard by the sheer strength of a woman who looked so delicate.

With his face pressed flat against the scarred mahogany table, Victoria leaned down, her icy breath brushing his ear.

"Wanna build an EMP?"

"..."

"...An EMP?" Giordano asked, his tone dropping instantly into a deadly serious register. "A localized pulse, or something bigger?"

"An apex trigger," Victoria drawled. She reached back, lazily accepting a thick, matte-black file from Kany before tossing it onto the scarred mahogany desk. "A device compact enough to fit inside a briefcase, but powerful enough to fry the entire power grid and digital defense infrastructure of an entire territory. You build the hardware weaponization; my syndicate handles the deployment."

Giordano frowned, the sudden shift from corporate flirting to cold, geopolitical reality clearing his head instantly. "Do I look like someone who manufactures heavy hardware, Victoria? I own a cybersecurity conglomerate. I don't build weapons of mass disruption."

Victoria chuckled darkly, releasing her brutal grip on his wrist and taking a slow, elegant step back. "Don't play stupid with me, Salvatore. Two weeks ago, a decommissioned Soviet-era activation matrix went missing from a black site in Naples. My people secured the hardware. What we don't have is the bypassed cryptographic key. The previous engineer's brains were splattered across the wall trying to crack the encryption. You're the only black-market designer alive with the algorithmic keys to wake it up."

Giordano studied her every movement with keen, calculating eyes. His onyx gaze traced her petite features-the striking silver-gray orbs, the perfect Grecian nose, and those cruel, heart-shaped lips.

"Initially, I thought you came here to make a legitimate corporate proposal," he murmured, stepping toward his private bar cabinet.

"Don't beat around the bush, Salvatore," Victoria countered, watching him pour a generous measure of dark red wine into a crystal glass. "You claim to be an innocent tech mogul. However, my sources say otherwise."

She tapped the file on his desk, letting the contents spill open. Giordano's hand froze mid-pour. Splattered across the dark wood were high-resolution photographs of his classified blueprints, signed black-market shipping manifests, and encrypted transaction records routing back to an anonymous buyer in Naples.

"You investigated me?" Giordano's voice thundered, a low, dangerous growl vibrating in his chest. Yet, beneath the sudden flash of anger, a spark of absolute fascination danced in his eyes. "You truly are one of a kind, Empress."

Victoria smirked inwardly, catching the mixed emotions flitting across his handsome face. "Do you still need more evidence? I can have Kany play the audio intercepts of your private arms deals if you prefer."

Giordano cleared his throat, smoothly recovering his composure. He picked up the wine glass, a slow, reckless smile returning to his lips. "You know, I never anticipated a Tuesday like this. You barge into my headquarters, terrorize my executive staff with a tactical strike team, hold me hostage at gunpoint on my own desk, and demand military-grade tech. You are beautifully unhinged, Miss De Luca."

"Well, at least you are a willing hostage," she mocked, smoothly reaching out to intercept the glass of wine he had poured for himself. She took a slow, deliberate sip of the vintage red, her gray eyes darkening to the color of a winter storm. "Now, back to business. Build the EMP trigger for me, or I will systematically burn down every single thing you have built. Starting with the foundations of DanTech."

The innocent, angelic public persona of the Diamond Queen was entirely gone, replaced by the terrifying, malicious grin of the underworld's most ruthless sovereign.

Marveled by her sudden, imposing shift in gravity, Giordano sat back casually in his leather swivel chair, slowly twirling the remaining wine in his glass. "Is that an explicit threat, Miss Victoria?"

Before he could even blink, a deafening crack shattered the silence of the office.

The crystal wine glass in Giordano's hand exploded into a thousand glittering shards. He sat perfectly still, his jaw tightening as he slowly turned his head.

Victoria stood a few feet away, her custom-made pistol unweighted in her hand, wisps of gray smoke curling from the barrel. She hadn't missed; she had deliberately shot the stem of the glass out from between his fingers.

"It's not a threat, Salvatore. It's a promise," she murmured coldly.

She downed the remaining wine from her own glass in one smooth gulp, setting it down on his desk before turning sharply on her heel. Kany instantly threw open the heavy office doors, stepping out to clear the path.

At the threshold, Victoria paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Friday night. Nine o'clock. Helms Cove. Show up with the prototype blueprints, or you will deeply regret the day you crossed my path."

With that, the doors clicked shut, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in her wake.

Out in the executive lobby, Bruce heaved a massive, trembling sigh of relief the moment he watched Victoria and her armed vanguard disappear into the VIP elevator bank. Throughout the entire floor, secretaries and tech executives alike slumped against their desks, hyperventilating.

"Mr... Mr. Bruce... should I... should I contact the federal authorities?" Sullivan, a pale-faced developer with giant, oversized glasses sliding down his nose, whispered as he quivered in fright.

Hearing the absurd question, Bruce's lingering panic instantly morphed into pure, unadulterated fury. He lunged forward, grabbing Sullivan violently by his starch-white collar.

"You want to call the cops? Are you entirely brain-dead, Sullivan, or did you choose to ignore the crest of the De Luca syndicate on those tactical vests?" he thundered, his face flushing red. He glanced down at the developer's name tag and hissed, "If you truly possess a suicidal urge to call the police on the Empress, do it after you submit your resignation! Clear your desk!"

Shoving the trembling developer aside, Bruce spun around to face the rest of the floor. His anger skyrocketed when he spotted a junior receptionist holding up her smartphone, clearly trying to hide a recording screen.

"You! Go straight to Human Resources and collect your termination letter," he barked. Without waiting for a response, he sprinted past the elevators and threw open the heavy stairwell door.

"Mr. Bruce! Take the lift!" Sullivan yelled after him.

"Who gives a damn about the lift? The boss might be bleeding out on his floor!" Bruce shouted back, his footsteps echoing wildly as he bounded up the concrete stairs three at a time.

Inside the penthouse suite, the heavy mahogany doors burst open.

"Sir! I thought you were dead! What did that she-devil want? Does she want a hostile takeover? Shares? Intellectual property? We are a cutting-edge cybersecurity firm, not a damn jewelry supply chain-"

Bruce ranted frantically, collapsing into a chair, his face slick with sweat and chest heaving from the sprint.

"Are you completely finished, Bruce?" Giordano asked, his voice dripping with dry irritation.

His dark brows were furrowed, his eyes locked entirely on the empty crystal glass Victoria had left behind on his desk. He reached down, idly picking up a sharp, splintered fragment of the wood her bullet had carved out. "Stop acting like a panicked rookie."

Instantly, Bruce took a deep, steadying breath. He pulled a crisp linen handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face clean of sweat, and adjusted his tailored suit jacket. The panicked persona vanished, replaced by the sharp, focused demeanor of a high-level mafia consigliere.

"My apologies, boss," Bruce said quietly, his voice dropping into a professional register. "How did she obtain that data? I thought the Naples transaction records were scrubbed from the dark web servers two years ago."

"The Mafia Empress doesn't play by standard rules," Giordano reasoned, a slow, dangerously intrigued smile spreading across his lips. "Someone leaked an internal file to her, and she's pulling every thread until she finds the source. She's angry, Bruce. And an angry Empress is an exceptional weapon."

He stood up, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the sprawling city skyline.

"Get the security team to completely lock down our deep-data vaults. If she managed to dig up the Naples files, I want to ensure she doesn't find anything else before I'm ready to hand it to her."

Bruce bowed his head respectfully, turning to execute the order. However, he froze mid-step when his boss spoke again.

"Clear my schedule for Friday night. I'll be meeting her at Helms Cove to deliver the preliminary encryption architecture." Giordano's smile turned dark, possessive, and deeply calculating as he twirled the heavy black fountain pen between his fingers. "And Bruce? Prepare a bouquet of custom, diamond-studded roses. If the Empress wants to play a game of shadows with me, I need to ensure our first official date is entirely unforgettable."