The bass thunders through the walls of my club, pulsing in time with my heartbeat—right up until the doors slam open.

Gunshots crack through the air. Screams. Shattering glass. My men react instantly, weapons up, ready for a fight. But I stay seated in my private booth, calm, collected. I already know who sent this chaos.

Andrea’s.

He wouldn’t have the guts to show up himself. No, he sends pawns. He plays it safe.

Or so I think—until I see her.

And just like that, everything stops.

It’s not Andreas’ men that leave me frozen—it’s her.

The girl I haven’t laid eyes on in three damn years. The girl who used to fall asleep tangled in my arms like I was her whole universe.

Now she stands in the heart of the wreckage, gun poised like she was born with it, dressed in black from head to toe, boots planted with purpose. Her eyes, once wide and full of softness, are now steeled and unforgiving.

She looks like a queen of the underworld.

My sweet girl. The one who used to blush when I touched her. The one who begged me to keep what we had hidden from her father. She’s not here anymore.

In her place is this—a mafia heir bathed in blood and vengeance, standing in my club like it’s hers to burn down.

She was never supposed to be mine. The enemy’s daughter. Kept far from her father’s world. She feared it. Wanted no part in it. But she never feared me.

For eight months, she was my secret. My weakness. She’d risk everything just to be with me.

And then one night, she vanished. No word. No warning.

And now—she’s back. Gun aimed right at me.

My muscles finally respond, and I rise, a twisted smile forming on my lips. Cold. Dangerous.

“Well, well…” I say smoothly, masking the chaos inside. “Long time no see, Princess.”

Her eyes flicker. Just for a second. Most wouldn’t notice—but I do. Because I know her. I knew her better than anyone ever did.

I know my girl’s still in there.

Buried. But not gone. Right?