Ruthless desires

Chapter 1

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The bass pounded through the walls like a heartbeat, shaking the ground beneath Valentine's heels as she moved through the crowded nightclub. The De Luca family owned this place-one of the most notorious spots in the city, where deals were made, alliances forged, and rivals warned to stay in line.

Tonight, Valentine wasn't here for pleasure. She was here to make sure everything was running smoothly, just like her father ordered. Her presence alone sent a message: the De Lucas were always watching, always in control.

She moved with purpose, her ice-blue eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. A server passed by with a tray of drinks, but Valentine paid him no mind, more focused on the people gathered around the VIP section. A couple of her men were stationed there, nodding respectfully as she approached.

But then the crowd parted, and her blood ran cold.

Standing at the far end of the VIP lounge, leaning casually against the bar, was him. Dark hair, piercing eyes, and that lazy, arrogant smirk that made her blood boil. Matteo Romano.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Valentine hissed under her breath, signaling one of her men to stay alert.

Matteo caught her eye and raised his glass in a mocking salute, as if he owned the place. Fury burned in her chest as she pushed through the crowd, not caring about the whispers that followed.

When she finally stood before him, she didn't bother hiding her disdain. "You've got some nerve, Romano," she snarled.

Matteo took a slow sip of his whiskey, unfazed by the venom in her tone. "Nice to see you too, Valentine. Didn't expect such a warm welcome."

She barely kept herself from punching that smirk off his face. "You're trespassing. Last I checked, your family's territory doesn't include this club."

He shrugged, unfazed. "Just wanted to see if De Luca hospitality is as cold as they say. Looks like I was right."

Valentine leaned in, her voice low and sharp. "You're either stupid or suicidal. Which is it?"

Matteo's smirk faded, his eyes hardening. "Neither. Just curious why the princess herself is out playing guard dog. Your father doesn't trust his own men anymore?"

Her hand itched to reach for the gun strapped to her thigh, but she held back. "Don't push me, Romano. You're already on thin ice."

Suddenly, the tension spiked as Matteo dropped his glass onto the bar, the shattering sound drawing everyone's attention. In one fluid motion, he pulled his gun and pressed it to her forehead.

The room froze. Valentine didn't even flinch, her own gun already aimed at his chest. The bouncers tensed, unsure of whether to intervene.

Matteo's voice was a deadly whisper. "Your family's been poking around our docks. That's a declaration of war, Valentine."

She pressed the barrel harder into his chest, her lips curling into a sneer. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about your men harassing our dealers. You trying to take over my turf?"

His eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous. "You wish."

Before she could respond, a gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud over the music. Someone screamed, and the room erupted into chaos. Matteo's gaze didn't leave hers, but they both hesitated, scanning the room for the source.

Valentine saw one of her men collapse to the floor, blood pooling around him. Panic rippled through the club, patrons scrambling for the exits. More gunshots followed, and the room became a war zone.

Matteo shoved her down behind the bar, ducking beside her as bullets sprayed overhead. "You set me up?" he snarled, eyes blazing with fury.

She glared back just as fiercely. "You think I'd risk my own men to take you out? Use your brain, Romano!"

Their backs pressed together as they exchanged fire with the unseen attackers. Valentine's heart pounded, adrenaline flooding her veins. She didn't know who was shooting or why, but the look on Matteo's face told her he didn't either.

When the gunfire finally ceased, the club was a wreck-broken glass, bullet holes, and bodies on the floor. Valentine holstered her gun, standing slowly and assessing the damage.

Matteo rose beside her, wiping a trickle of blood from his jaw. "Looks like someone wanted to send a message."

She glanced at him, tension still coiling between them like a live wire. "Someone who wants us at each other's throats. This wasn't your family?"

He shook his head, jaw clenched. "No. But I bet they're counting on us blaming each other."

Valentine's mind raced. Someone wanted to reignite the feud, maybe even take them both out at once. She hated the idea, but for now, there was only one way to survive this.

"We need to find out who's behind this," she said, her tone grudging. "Before they turn the city into a bloodbath."

Matteo hesitated, clearly hating the idea as much as she did. Finally, he gave a stiff nod. "Fine. But make no mistake, De Luca-this doesn't mean I trust you."

She shot him a cold glare. "Trust me? I wouldn't trust you to tie my shoes."

He smirked, and for a split second, something darkly amused flickered in his eyes. "Careful, princess. You might just fall for me."

Valentine scoffed, refusing to let him see how his words made her stomach flip. "In your dreams, Romano."

As sirens wailed in the distance, the uneasy alliance was sealed-not with words, but with the deadly understanding that they had no choice but to work together.

And if it killed her to trust him, so be it. She'd rather die than let the Romanos see her as weak.

CHAPTER 2

Blue and red lights flashed outside the club, sirens wailing as officers poured in, securing the scene. Valentine stood near the bar, wiping blood from her temple where a stray piece of glass had grazed her. Matteo leaned against the wall, still catching his breath, his eyes constantly scanning the room for any remaining threats.

Two officers approached Valentine, their stiff posture relaxing as they recognized her. One of them, Detective Monroe, gave her a curt nod. "Miss De Luca, you alright?"

She gave a dismissive wave, masking her frustration. "I'm fine. Clean up this mess and make sure there are no witnesses talking to the press. My father doesn't want any rumors spreading."

Monroe nodded without hesitation, already pulling out his phone to make arrangements. "Consider it done. We'll chalk it up to a gang dispute gone wrong."

Matteo raised a brow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Convenient. Didn't realize the De Lucas had half the precinct in their pocket."

Valentine shot him a glare. "You jealous, Romano? Thought your family had more sway than that."

He didn't respond, just watched as the police began ushering civilians out and marking off the crime scene. One of his men approached, whispering something into his ear that made his expression darken.

Valentine caught the tension in his jaw. "What?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Our warehouse just went up in flames. Explosion. Casualties confirmed."

Her stomach twisted, but she kept her face neutral. "You think this is just about your family?"

Almost on cue, Monroe came back, his face pale. "Miss De Luca... the dock warehouse just blew up. Same MO."

Valentine's blood ran cold. "What?"

The detective hesitated, glancing between her and Matteo. "Massive fire. There's... there's nothing left."

A quiet, bitter laugh escaped Matteo. "Guess someone wants both our families to burn."

Valentine gritted her teeth, shoving down the panic threatening to rise. This wasn't just a hit-it was a declaration of all-out war.

"Go," she ordered Monroe. "Handle the dock. Make sure no one's talking. I'll deal with this."

Matteo pushed off the wall, his jaw clenched. "We need to talk. Privately."

Valentine hesitated, but then nodded, gesturing for him to follow. They slipped past the kitchen door, moving through the narrow hallways until they found the entrance to the basement-an old, hidden lounge area used for more private business. She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door, leading him down the creaking steps.

The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of leather and aged whiskey. A single bulb flickered overhead, and Valentine poured herself a drink from the dusty cabinet, downing it in one go.

She didn't notice Matteo approaching until he was right behind her, his hands braced on either side of the bar, caging her in.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snapped, turning to face him.

His eyes were darker than usual, shadows cutting across his sharp features. "You knew something was coming. Don't lie to me."

She glared at him, refusing to back down. "Don't start pointing fingers, Romano. We both know neither of us would hit our own."

The tension between them was suffocating, anger laced with something far more dangerous. Matteo didn't move, didn't back away, and his breath fanned across her cheek, too close.

"You're shaking," he murmured.

"Shut up," she snapped, but it came out weaker than intended.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're scared. Or maybe you're just pissed that you didn't see this coming."

She shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge-just smirked, like he found her rage amusing. That cocky, infuriating grin made her blood boil, and before she could think, she grabbed his collar and yanked him down, crashing her lips against his.

The kiss was violent, all teeth and desperation. Matteo groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against him. He spun them around, pinning her to the bar, his mouth devouring hers like he was starving.

Valentine bit his bottom lip, making him hiss, and he retaliated by gripping her thighs and hoisting her onto the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer, and his hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress higher.

She tugged at his shirt, ripping buttons in her haste, and he didn't seem to care, too busy kissing his way down her neck, leaving marks she'd hate herself for later. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan, and she smirked against his mouth.

His hands slipped under her dress, fingertips tracing her bare skin, and she gasped when he hooked his fingers into her underwear, tugging them down in one swift motion. Her mind spun, caught between hating him and wanting him more than her next breath.

Matteo's mouth claimed hers again, rough and demanding, and his hands gripped her waist as he pressed against her, teasing her with just enough friction to drive her mad. She arched into him, nails dragging down his back, and he finally gave in, sliding into her with a deep, unrestrained groan.

Her breath hitched, and his hands tightened on her hips, holding her in place as he moved-rough and relentless, like he was determined to make her feel every inch of him. Valentine bit back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but he didn't let up, whispering filthy things in her ear that made her cheeks burn.

"Admit it," he growled, biting down on her shoulder. "You've wanted this as much as I have."

She didn't respond-just dug her nails into his shoulders and pulled him closer, meeting each thrust with equal fervor. The room felt too hot, too small, and she couldn't focus on anything except the way he moved, like he was determined to break her.

When release finally hit, it tore through her, leaving her gasping for air. Matteo wasn't far behind, his grip on her almost bruising as he buried his face in her neck, breathing heavily.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, as reality crept back in. Valentine pushed him off, sliding down from the bar and fixing her dress. She didn't look at him, didn't say anything-just wiped her smudged lipstick and poured another drink.

Matteo smirked, leaning back against the bar like nothing had happened. "Not bad, princess. Didn't know you had that in you."

She shot him a deadly glare. "That never happened."

He just chuckled, clearly unbothered. "Whatever you say."

As footsteps sounded from upstairs, they both straightened, putting on their usual masks of indifference.

CHAPTER 3

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Valentine took a deep breath, straightening her dress and wiping the last smudge of lipstick from her mouth. The heat from Matteo's touch still burned under her skin, but she couldn't afford to think about it. Not now. Not ever.

She left the basement without a backward glance, her head held high as if nothing had happened. The club was mostly cleared out, with only a few of her men lingering to oversee the cleanup. Matteo had already disappeared-typical of him to leave without a word.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced down to see her father's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated only for a second before answering.

"Valentine," his deep, authoritative voice came through, calm but stern. "What's the situation?"

She swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "A shootout at the club. Someone hit both us and the Romanos. They took out our dock warehouse."

Silence stretched on the other end before he spoke again. "Any casualties?"

"Several. Civilians mostly. A few of our men, and some Romanos. I'm handling it."

Her father's sigh was almost imperceptible. "Handling it how?"

She steeled herself. "Matteo was at the club. The Romanos were just as blindsided as we were. It wasn't them."

A bitter laugh came from her father. "You trust him now?"

Valentine gritted her teeth. "No. But I believe him. Whoever did this hit both families at the same time. They want us at each other's throats."

"That won't be hard to accomplish," her father muttered. "The Romano warehouse blew up not long after ours. You can imagine what that's done to tensions."

She clenched her jaw, frustration simmering under her skin. "We need to meet with them. If we don't figure this out together, it'll be a massacre."

There was a long pause before her father spoke again, more cautious now. "And you think Matteo will cooperate?"

Valentine hesitated, recalling his hands on her waist, his lips on her neck. The way he claimed her like it was his right. She pushed the thought aside, shoving it deep down where it couldn't cloud her judgment.

"He'll cooperate," she said firmly. "He knows war won't benefit either of us."

Another silence stretched before her father let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll arrange a meeting. You make sure to keep your head on straight. You're too important to lose over some petty blood feud."

Her chest tightened at the familiar warning, but she kept her voice steady. "Understood."

"Good. Come home. We need to discuss the next steps."

The line went dead, and Valentine slipped the phone back into her pocket, exhaling slowly. One of her men approached, giving her a respectful nod.

"We're almost done clearing out, Miss De Luca. Police aren't giving us any trouble."

"Good," she replied, her tone clipped. "Make sure the bodies are disposed of properly. No one needs to trace anything back to us."

"Yes, ma'am."

As the man walked away, Valentine allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall. Her mind raced with possibilities-who would be bold enough to hit both families at once? The Russian Bratva? The Cartel? Or some new player trying to make a statement?

The thought of war made her stomach churn, but she couldn't afford to look weak. Her family depended on her strength-her father demanded nothing less.

She straightened, pushing down the remnants of whatever had happened between her and Matteo. It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything. He was still the enemy, even if his touch made her feel more alive than she had in years.

With a final glance around the club, she walked out into the night, determination hardening her features. This wasn't just about survival anymore-it was about sending a message.

Whoever thought they could take down both the De Luca and Romano empires was about to learn just how deadly that mistake was.

The ride home was quiet, Valentine staring out the tinted windows as the city lights blurred past. Her mind replayed the night's events over and over-Matteo's hands on her skin, the explosion at the docks, and the way her father's voice had tightened with controlled fury.

When the car pulled up to the De Luca estate-a sprawling mansion hidden behind tall iron gates-she took a moment to collect herself. The guards gave her respectful nods as she stepped out, heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway.

The grand foyer was dimly lit, and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread lingered from the kitchen. Valentine barely made it two steps inside before she heard loud footsteps thundering down the staircase.

"Val!"

She barely had time to brace herself before two bodies crashed into her-her twin siblings, Luca and Sofia. Luca's arms wrapped around her shoulders while Sofia practically tackled her waist, her long black hair cascading over Valentine's shoulder.

"You're okay!" Sofia breathed out, pulling back just enough to study Valentine's face. "We heard about the shootout at the club. Dad's been pacing like a caged animal."

Luca, taller and leaner with sharp features that mirrored Valentine's, gave her a once-over, his jaw tense. "Are you hurt?"

Valentine forced a smirk, brushing them off. "Please. You think I'd let some idiots with guns get the better of me?"

Sofia gave her a playful shove, though worry still clouded her emerald eyes. "You could at least text us next time. We thought-"

Valentine cupped her cheek, softening her tone. "I'm fine. I promise."

Before either of them could respond, the click of heels on marble caught their attention. Their mother, Isabella De Luca, appeared at the top of the staircase, her dark hair swept elegantly into a bun and her tailored emerald dress fitting her slender frame perfectly. Despite her poised appearance, her sharp eyes softened when they landed on Valentine.

"Valentina," Isabella greeted, gliding down the stairs with the grace of a queen. She cupped her daughter's face, looking for any sign of injury. "You're late."

Valentine managed a wry smile. "Got held up at the club. Things got messy."

Her mother's gaze sharpened. "Your father's waiting for you in his study. He's been... on edge."

Luca snorted. "That's putting it lightly. He nearly tore apart his office when the news broke."

Valentine gave her brother a look. "Not helping."

Isabella glanced at Luca, raising a brow, and he shut his mouth instantly. With a gentle touch on Valentine's shoulder, Isabella guided her toward the hallway. "He'll want to hear your side. And be careful with your words-he's not in the mood for any... rebellion tonight."

Valentine nodded, steeling herself before heading down the hall. Sofia's quiet voice called after her, almost hesitant.

"Val... whatever happened... just be careful. We've been hearing rumors."

Valentine hesitated, giving Sofia a small nod before continuing. She knew exactly what her sister meant. The rumors of betrayal, of alliances shifting, and of the Romano family gearing up for retaliation. No one knew how deep the attack had cut both families.

Taking a deep breath, she reached the heavy oak doors of her father's study and knocked twice before pushing them open.

Her father, Alessandro De Luca, stood by the window, a glass of whiskey in hand. He didn't turn to look at her as she entered.

"Sit," he commanded.

She obeyed, sinking into one of the leather armchairs. After a long pause, he finally turned, his expression carved from stone.

"Report."

Valentine kept her tone steady and professional. "The club was attacked by unknown gunmen. Several casualties, mostly civilians. Before I could get things under control, the Romano warehouse went up in flames. Then our dock warehouse followed. The message is clear-someone wants both families in chaos."

Alessandro studied her, his gaze unyielding. "You were at the club with Matteo Romano."

It wasn't a question. She forced herself not to flinch. "He happened to be there. I didn't know he would show up."

"Convenient," Alessandro said coldly, swirling his whiskey. "And after the attack, did you speak to him?"

Valentine hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. "Briefly. We both agreed that whoever did this wanted to pit us against each other. Neither side benefits from all-out war."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "And you think you can trust him?"

"No," she admitted, meeting his gaze head-on. "But we have to be smart about this. Whoever orchestrated this is banking on our families destroying each other. We can't give them that satisfaction."

Alessandro took a slow sip, his gaze piercing. "You sound more like a strategist than my daughter."

She forced herself not to react, keeping her face neutral. He set his glass down and approached, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"You did well tonight," he said, his tone begrudgingly approving. "But don't let your guard down. The Romanos are snakes-they'll strike when you least expect it."

Valentine gave a single nod, knowing better than to argue. Alessandro leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Get some rest," he ordered. "Tomorrow, we'll plan our next move."

"Yes, Papa," she replied softly.

As she left the study, the tension in her shoulders finally eased. Luca and Sofia were waiting just outside, both of them wearing identical worried expressions.

"What did he say?" Luca asked, keeping his voice low.

Valentine offered a tired smile. "That I did well. For now."

Sofia hugged her tightly, her grip surprisingly strong. "We'll get through this," she whispered. "Whoever's trying to mess with us will regret it."

Valentine smirked, ruffling her sister's hair. "Damn right. No one messes with the De Lucas and gets away with it."

Luca's eyes flickered with a dangerous glint. "We'll find out who's behind this. And when we do... they'll beg for mercy."

Valentine didn't doubt it for a second. She just hoped that when the time came, she'd be ready to do whatever it took to protect her family-even if it meant crossing lines she never thought she would.

But for now, she needed sleep. And maybe a long, scalding shower to wash away the memory of Matteo Romano's hands on her body.