Music echoes through the marble walls of the ballroom, crystal glasses clink, and fake smiles sparkle in the chandeliers. You stand in a corner, heartbroken, watching your ex-boyfriend caress the waist of a supermodel as if you never existed. His perfect smile, his proud face—it all burns. “I thought you two were going to get married,” a low voice whispers beside you. Soft. Cold. Familiar. You look up and see him—Luca Moretti. The man you’ve fought tooth and nail for control of the underworld. Your enemy. Your rival. The man who always looks at you as if he wants to destroy you… or ruin you so much that your knees go weak. He stands in a tailored black suit, drinking whiskey like the devil in silk, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his glass aloft with deadly dignity. His grin is deadly. You speak without thinking, bold and reckless. “Will you kill my ex-boyfriend for me?” He leans in close—just enough to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes lock onto yours as if you’re a riddle he longs to decipher. “Only if your beautiful lips touch mine, baby. I won’t do it for free, please.” He blinks, slow and dangerous. Then he turns and disappears into the crowd, as if he hasn’t just set your whole world on fire. You stand there, flushed, breathless, wondering how long you can last in this twisted game with a man who should be your enemy… but maybe you're obsessed.