In the shadowy underworld of New York City, the mafia reigns supreme. Two powerful families, the Morettis and the Castellanos, have been at war for decades. To broker peace, the heads of the families arrange a marriage between their children: Luca Moretti, the ruthless 35-year-old heir to the Moretti empire, and Isabella Castellano, the innocent 22-year-old daughter of the Castellano patriarch. Isabella, sheltered and naive, is thrust into a world of danger, desire, and dark secrets. Luca, a man hardened by violence and betrayal, sees her as nothing more than a pawn-until her innocence begins to unravel him.
Chapter 1 The First Meeting
The study was dimly lit, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tightly against the afternoon sun. Isabella Castellano stood in the center of the room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain everyone could hear it. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and expensive whiskey, a reminder of the men who ruled this world-a world she had never wanted to be part of.
Her father, Don Castellano, sat behind his mahogany desk, his expression unreadable. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of authority. Beside him stood her older brother, Marco, his jaw clenched, his eyes darting nervously between Isabella and the door.
"Isabella," her father began, his tone firm but not unkind. "You understand why this is necessary."
She nodded, though her throat was too tight to speak. She understood, of course. This was about power, about alliances, about securing the future of the Castellano family. But understanding didn't make it any easier to accept.
The door creaked open, and Isabella's breath caught in her throat. He entered with an air of quiet dominance, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. Luca Moretti. She had heard his name whispered in hushed tones, stories of his ruthlessness, his cunning, his unyielding control over the Moretti empire. But nothing could have prepared her for the man himself.
He was tall, his broad shoulders accentuated by the tailored black suit he wore. His dark hair was swept back, a few strands falling carelessly over his forehead, and his green eyes-sharp, calculating-seemed to pierce straight through her. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and the faint scar that ran along his cheekbone only added to his dangerous allure.
Isabella felt a shiver run down her spine as his gaze settled on her. He didn't smile, didn't offer a word of greeting. Instead, he looked at her as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve, his expression unreadable.
"Luca," Don Castellano said, rising from his chair. "Thank you for coming."
Luca inclined his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Isabella. "Don Castellano," he replied, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a strange warmth pooling in her stomach. "I trust we can conclude our business quickly."
Her father nodded, gesturing to Isabella. "This is my daughter, Isabella. She is... agreeable to the arrangement."
Isabella's cheeks burned at the lie. Agreeable? She had been given no choice, no say in the matter. But she held her tongue, her eyes downcast as Luca stepped closer. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the faint scent of his cologne-something dark and masculine, like leather and smoke.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice soft but firm.
Her heart raced as she lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes were intense, searching, as though he could see every secret she had ever tried to hide. For a moment, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and she hated it.
"You're younger than I expected," he said, his tone neutral.
"I'm twenty-two," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
A flicker of something-surprise? Amusement?-crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "Young," he repeated, more to himself than to her. Then, turning to her father, he said, "The terms are acceptable. We'll proceed as planned."
Don Castellano nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good. The wedding will take place in two weeks."
Isabella's stomach churned at the words. Two weeks. In two weeks, her life would change forever. She would belong to this man, this stranger who exuded danger and power in equal measure.
Luca turned back to her, his expression unreadable once more. "I'll see you at the altar," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, leaving Isabella standing there, her heart pounding, her mind racing.
As the door closed behind him, she felt a strange mix of relief and dread. Relief that the meeting was over, dread at what was to come. Luca Moretti was not a man who would be easily swayed, not a man who would tolerate defiance. And yet, as she replayed the encounter in her mind, she couldn't ignore the way her body had reacted to him, the way her pulse had quickened at the sound of his voice.
She was afraid of him, yes. But she was also undeniably drawn to him, a fact that both terrified and intrigued her.
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