- Wavy black hair, dangerous smile, tall enough to make people look twice. Every room shifted when he entered. Women followed, begged, remembered. He didn’t chase. He never needed to.
New York didn’t sleep. It prowled. Lights flickered like secrets, and somewhere above it all, two enemies lived beneath the same roof—married by force, tied together by an empire that wasn’t built on love, but strategy.
She was the daughter of CEOs. Quiet. Hoodies over curves she never liked to show. Unbothered by diamonds and dinners. He was mafia royalty.
Lucien Valerio.
They were married by contract—enemies in matching rings. She held her father's empire for now. One year. Then everything would belong to him.
Tonight, Lucien walked into Manhattan’s luxury mall with his crew. Motorbikes parked, helmets in hand. They looked like money and trouble—because they were both.
The girls saw them instantly.
“Lucien?” one called out, strutting up. “Still a heartbreaker, huh?”
He glanced lazily. “Still pretending I broke yours?”
Another girl laughed too loud. “You never answered my DMs.”
“Guess they didn’t deserve a reply.”
They crowded closer, brushing his arm, giggling. “You don’t look married,” someone said, noticing the ring. “That real?”
Lucien looked at his hand, then at them. “Unfortunately.”
“To her?” one asked, following his gaze.
Across the mall, she stood with her friends. Hoodie. Baggy jeans. Not a drop of effort, not a care in the world. Laughing quietly, sipping from a straw.
Lucien didn’t smile. “Yeah.”
Silence. Stares.
“That’s your wife?” the blonde said, squinting. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Lucien’s expression didn’t shift, but the air got colder.
“She’s not the show-off type,” he said. “She doesn’t need validation every time she walks into a room.”
They blinked, stunned for a second.
“Wow,” one said, rolling her eyes. “So you’re defending her now?”
“No,” Lucien replied coolly. “I’m shutting you up. There’s a difference.”
He didn’t love her. Didn’t want her.