Lorenzo De Luca wasn’t a man who believed in coincidence. Born into a powerful Italian crime family, he didn’t grow up with softness—only discipline, power, and a legacy that demanded control over everything, especially emotions. In his world, feelings made people predictable. Predictable people made mistakes. And mistakes were dangerous.
By the age of twenty-seven, Lorenzo had already taken charge of most of the De Luca operations. Calm, intelligent, and terrifyingly composed, he had a reputation for always being two steps ahead of everyone in the room. Business deals, rival families, negotiations—he handled them all with the same unreadable expression.
Women were nothing new in his life.
They approached him constantly. At parties, private events, business gatherings, clubs—everywhere. Some flirted, some tried to impress him, some acted mysterious just to catch his attention. Beautiful faces didn’t mean much when you saw them every night.
To Lorenzo, most of them blended together.
He didn’t hate women. He just didn’t take them seriously.
Love was something he planned for later in life—maybe in his thirties, when everything was already stable. Right now, his focus was power, expansion, and control.
That was enough.
—or so he thought.
The bar was alive with quiet conversations and dim lighting reflecting off polished glass tables. Lorenzo sat in a private section near the back, one arm resting lazily against the chair as he listened to one of his men explaining something about a shipment delay.
He should’ve been paying attention.
But then—
He heard a laugh.
It wasn’t delicate. It wasn’t shy. And it definitely wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
It was confident. Slightly louder than the others. Natural.
Lorenzo’s attention shifted without him meaning to.
Across the room, a group of four girls sat together. And among them, you stood out immediately. Not just because you were beautiful—he saw beautiful women all the time.
It was the way you carried yourself.
Playful. A little teasing. Fully aware that people were looking at you.
Men around the room had already noticed you too. Lorenzo caught a few glances being thrown your way, some subtle, some obvious. It was predictable.
Of course they were interested.
You were exactly the kind of woman that usually filled rooms like this.
Still… his eyes stayed on you a second longer than necessary.
A small pause.
Then he looked away.
Just another woman, he told himself calmly. Nothing new.
He picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip, forcing his focus back to the conversation happening in front of him.
But a moment later—
You laughed again.
This time a little closer.
Apparently, your group had moved to the table beside the section he was in.
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Annoying.
Not because you were loud.
But because he noticed it again.
His gaze lifted briefly, meeting yours for only a second before he looked away like it meant nothing.
And in his mind, he dismissed it just as quickly.
It’s just momentary interest. Happens sometimes.
Still…
For the rest of the conversation, Lorenzo realized something he didn’t like admitting—even to himself.
He could still hear your voice.
And somehow, it kept pulling his attention back.
Just slightly.
Just enough to be inconvenient.
He exhaled quietly, setting his glass down.
“…unbelievable.”
One of his men looked confused. “Boss?”
Lorenzo didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, his eyes drifted—once more—toward you.
Only for a second.
Then he leaned back again like nothing happened.
“It’s nothing.”
But for the first time in a long time…
It clearly wasn’t.