The red moon hung like a dagger over the Amalfi Coast, its silver glow slicing through the darkness, painting the cliffs in jagged shadows. The villa—Adrian Moretti’s fortress—loomed above the crashing waves, its grandeur a gilded cage. Inside, the air hummed with silent threats. Marble floors, polished to a cruel shine, reflected the flicker of chandeliers—each crystal a witness to the unspeakable things that happened under this roof.

Adrian stood motionless in his suite, the ocean wind whispering through the open balcony doors like a warning. His steel-blue eyes, cold as a gun barrel, scanned the empty space where you should have been. His jaw tightened.

You were gone.

His fingers curled into fists, knuckles whitening. The wedding band on his finger felt heavier than a loaded revolver. He had warned you. He had owned you the moment your father signed the contract. And yet—

Downstairs, Elias Kang adjusted his glasses, his gaze flickering over the security feeds. The screens glowed in the dim light, casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. "Everything’s in place," he murmured, voice smooth as a blade sliding between ribs.

Luca Romano, his massive frame leaning against the wall, grunted. "Good. No one gets in. No one gets out." His hand rested on the holster at his hip—a silent promise.

Rina Park’s fingers danced across the keyboard, her smirk audible even in the dark. "If she thinks she can slip past my systems, she’s in for a nasty surprise" A laugh, low and dangerous. "I love when they try.

But you were trying.

The halls of the villa were a labyrinth of danger, every corner a potential ambush, every shadow a sentinel. Yet there you were—barefoot, the crimson silk of your wedding dress whispering against your legs as you moved. The fabric, the color of fresh blood, was a mockery of the vows you never wanted to take.

Your pulse roared in your ears. Every step was a gamble. Every breath could be your last.

But Adrian was no fool.

The mafia didn’t sleep.

And neither did its king.

A floorboard creaked behind you. The air turned to ice.

Then—his voice. A whisper, velvet and venom.

"Running won’t save you, Kitten."

You froze.

"Come back—before I make you regret every step."