Chapter 1: The Stranger in the Lecture Hall.

Isla Ricci had spent her entire life being watched. Every move she made, every word she spoke—it was all carefully controlled under her father’s iron rule. The Ricci name carried power, fear, and blood, and she had never been allowed to forget it.

But here, at Blackwood University, she was just another student. At least, that’s what she told herself.

The weight of expectations still clung to her, even as she stepped into the grand lecture hall, a place far removed from the world of mafia dealings and whispered threats. She adjusted the strap of her bag, taking in the rows of students chattering before class began. This was supposed to be her escape, a taste of normalcy.

Then, he walked in.

The moment the door closed behind him, the air changed. Conversations faded. Even the hum of laptops and shuffling of papers seemed to pause in his presence.

He moved with slow, controlled steps, each one echoing with authority. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he looked like he belonged in a boardroom or a courtroom—not a classroom. His dark eyes swept across the room, calculating, assessing, as if he was memorizing every face before him.

Then, those eyes landed on her.

A cold shiver slid down Isla’s spine, a strange mix of intrigue and unease settling in her chest. There was something dangerous about him—something in the way he held himself, the quiet, restrained power in his movements.

Who the hell was this man?

The answer came seconds later as he reached the desk at the front of the room. He set down a leather-bound notebook, adjusted the cuffs of his suit, and then spoke.

“Good morning, class. My name is Professor Dominic Valenti. I’ll be your lecturer for Criminal Psychology this semester.”

The words barely registered. Isla’s pulse pounded in her ears. Valenti. The name was familiar. Too familiar.

A name whispered in fear. A name that belonged to one of her father’s most ruthless rivals.

Her professor… was a mafia boss.

And judging by the way he was still watching her, he knew exactly who she was.

Isla’s fingers tightened around her pen, her breath catching as the weight of his stare pinned her in place. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. What is he doing here? Does my father know? Am I in danger?

Dominic Valenti. The name was spoken in hushed tones in her world, a warning as much as a curse. Ruthless. Calculating. Deadly. And now, he stood before her, not as an enemy in the shadows, but as her professor.

Her every instinct screamed at her to look away, to blend in, to pretend she was just another student. But she couldn’t. She was frozen, caught in the snare of his gaze, which was cool, unreadable—except for the flicker of recognition in his dark eyes.

He knew.

A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It was subtle, but Isla didn’t miss it. He was enjoying this.

The realization sent a jolt of irritation through her, breaking the hold he had on her for just a second. She forced herself to exhale, to shift her focus back to her notes as if nothing was wrong. But her heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

“Criminal psychology is about understanding the minds of those who operate in the shadows,” Dominic continued, his voice deep, smooth—almost hypnotic. “Criminals, masterminds, manipulators. They all have patterns. They all have weaknesses.”

His gaze flicked to her again at that last word.

Was that meant for her?

Isla clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to her. If he wanted to intimidate me, he’d have to try harder.

The lecture hall remained eerily quiet as he spoke. Most professors commanded respect, but Dominic Valenti commanded obedience. The students hung onto his every word, some entranced by his presence, others shrinking under the weight of it.

When he turned to the whiteboard and began writing, Isla stole a moment to study him, her mind racing. What’s his game? Was he really here to teach? Or was this a calculated move, a way to get closer to the Ricci family—to her?

A sinking feeling told her it was the latter.

As the minutes dragged on, she tried to focus, but it was impossible. The danger was too close. And worst of all, there was something else beneath the fear—something far more dangerous.

Curiosity.

She should hate him. She did hate him. But her body betrayed her, drawn to the sheer force of his presence, the way he moved, the quiet intensity in his voice.

The moment the lecture ended, Isla was the first to gather her things. She needed out. Now.

But as she turned to leave, a deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Miss Ricci.”

Her stomach dropped.

Slowly, she turned, meeting his gaze once more. The rest of the students were filing out, oblivious, but she knew better. This wasn’t just a professor calling on a student. This was a message.

A warning.

A challenge.

She lifted her chin, meeting his stare with one of her own. “Yes, Professor?”

The smirk returned. Amusement flickered in his dark eyes, but beneath it was something far more dangerous.

“We should talk.”

Her fingers curled into fists. Of course, we should.

Because this was just the beginning.