Chapter 4

The weight of last night lingered like an unfinished thought, refusing to dissolve no matter how I tried to push it away. Luca Del Vicchio was more imposing up close than I’d imagined—calm, controlled, and watching me like a predator deciding whether to pounce. The sharp flicker of suspicion in his eyes replayed in my mind, a warning I couldn’t afford to ignore.

I wasn’t sure what unnerved me more: the danger he represented or the fact that part of me wasn’t afraid.

I burned through the morning with futile attempts at distraction. A jog through the park, an overcooked breakfast, and a half-hearted review of my notes all failed to keep Luca out of my head. His name was there, scrawled between headlines about missing persons and whispers of criminal syndicates. Two weeks of opulent charity events, all curated by him, were a façade for something darker. I just didn’t know what yet.

By noon, my phone buzzed, dragging me back to the present.

“Auction tonight. Private estate. Dress sharp. He’ll be there.”

The text was concise, yet it sent a pulse of heat through me. Another invitation into the lion’s den.

Evening came too quickly, and as I prepared, unease coiled tightly in my stomach. I pulled out a sleek navy gown, its fabric clinging to my frame in a way that felt both bold and vulnerable. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror was composed, confident. A lie.

“You don’t scare me,” I whispered, testing the words against my reflection. But the truth was harder to admit—I wasn’t sure if it was Luca who scared me, or the version of myself I was becoming in his orbit.

The estate was dazzling, its sprawling grounds illuminated by golden lanterns that cast shifting shadows on the cobblestones. Guests spilled onto the marble steps, their laughter and champagne flutes glinting in the low light. Inside, the air was thick with indulgence: polished wood, expensive perfume, and the faint hum of a grand piano.

It was a different kind of battlefield.

I spotted Luca within moments of stepping inside. He stood near the base of a grand staircase, his gaze sweeping the room like a predator surveying his domain. He was magnetic, his presence drawing attention without effort, and I couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was calculated.

This time, I didn’t wait for him to notice me.

I moved with purpose, weaving between clusters of guests, careful to keep my steps steady. The soft rustle of my dress against the polished floor matched the rhythm of my heartbeat. When I reached him, I let my voice cut through the murmur of the crowd.

“A man like you doesn’t usually hang back,” I said, letting the words roll off my tongue with just enough intrigue.

Luca turned, his dark eyes locking onto mine. A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And a woman like you doesn’t usually make the first move.”

I tilted my head, matching his smile. “Maybe I like breaking the rules.”

He studied me, his gaze sharp enough to unravel my pretense, but I didn’t flinch. This was the game we played—push and pull, move and counter. And I wasn’t about to fold.

Before he could respond, the atmosphere shifted. It was subtle, a tremor beneath the surface, but unmistakable. Across the room, the auctioneer’s voice faltered mid-sentence, drawing uneasy murmurs from the crowd.

Then, like a crack in a dam, the tension burst.

A man near the stage stumbled forward, clutching his chest. He let out a strangled gasp before collapsing to the ground. The sharp crash of shattered champagne flutes sent a ripple of panic through the room.

Gasps turned to murmurs, then chaos. Guests surged back from the fallen man, servers scrambling to clear the area.

I turned to Luca instinctively. His demeanor had shifted, the calm façade slipping to reveal something colder, more calculating. He moved forward, cutting through the crowd with ease.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low but firm.

I didn’t stay.

I followed at a distance, my heart pounding as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The man on the floor was unresponsive, his face pale and clammy. Someone knelt beside him, checking for a pulse, but the murmurs around me suggested there wouldn’t be one.

Luca stood just beyond the chaos, his sharp gaze scanning the room. He wasn’t watching the man—he was watching the reactions, the movements of everyone else.

My instincts screamed that this wasn’t a random medical emergency.

Then I saw them: two men standing near the far exit, their postures stiff, their attention focused not on the fallen guest but on the crowd. Their presence was too deliberate, their movements too precise. Security, but not the kind you hire for an auction.

I hesitated for a split second before moving toward them, keeping to the edge of the room. My steps were careful, deliberate, but a faint creak of the floorboard betrayed me.

Both men turned, their gazes locking onto me like spotlights.

“Lost?” one of them asked, his voice sharp and unfriendly.

I forced a smile, clutching my purse tightly. “Looking for the ladies’ room,” I said lightly, my tone betraying nothing.

The other man didn’t answer. His eyes flicked over me once, twice, and then he nodded toward the main hall. “Back inside.”

Reluctantly, I turned, feeling their stares burning into my back as I retreated. My pulse hammered in my ears, but I kept my stride even.

When I stepped back into the main room, Luca was waiting for me near the staircase. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something close to fury.

“What did I tell you about staying put?” he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“I don’t take orders well,” I shot back, meeting his gaze despite the tightness in my chest.

For a moment, he said nothing, his dark eyes searching mine. Then he leaned in, his voice a quiet threat. “This isn’t a game, Renee. Keep pushing, and you’ll find yourself in the deep end.”

“And what if I already am?” I whispered, refusing to look away.

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, but there was no humor in it. “Then you’d better learn to swim.”

The rest of the night blurred, the tension in the room thick enough to cut. I stayed on the periphery, watching Luca from a distance, feeling his words linger in the back of my mind.

By the time I left, the night air was a cold relief against my flushed skin. This wasn’t just a story anymore. The danger was real, and I was teetering on its edge.

I was a participant. Whether I wanted to be or not.