Lucia's POV
Breaking in through the window felt like second nature. My boots barely whispered against the polished wood as I crept into the room—my room. But something was off. A figure was curled up on my bed, red hair splayed across the pillow like flames.
A woman. could it be one of the maids? But they had their quarters with separate rooms.
I stilled, confused, calculating. Who the hell was she?
Before I could reach for a weapon, I felt the cold kiss of steel against my neck. Shit. She was fast.
"Don't move," she said, voice low and steady. There was no tremble in her hand. If she pressed an inch deeper, I'd be bleeding out by now. She had a fighter's stance, sharp eyes trained on mine through the darkness. Smart. I'd give her that.
I raised my hands slowly, grinning beneath my mask. "Okay, okay... I see you're not just decorative."
I peeled off the black fabric, hiding my face. "Hey," I said awkwardly.
Her gaze flicked over my features. She didn't lower the blade. If anything, she looked like she wanted to bury it deeper.
"Oh," she muttered, "you're his assassin."
Her voice had venom.
"Did the devil send you to finally kill me?"
I blinked. Devil?
She continued, voice tight, "You can't kill me. I'm important to the devil."
So that's what she called him. The devil. A soft chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it.
"You call him that, too?" I murmured. "At least we have one thing in common."
She glared. The knife didn't waver.
I nudged it gently with my palm. "Can you lower that a bit? I'm not here to slit throats."
"Then who are you?" she snapped. "Why sneak in like a thief?"
I shrugged. "Because this is my house. That's my bed. And those clothes you're wearing? Definitely mine."
Her expression faltered.
"And that devil you keep talking about... yeah, I'm guessing he's my brother."
Her eyes widened. She dropped the knife, stepping back slightly.
"I could've tackled you," I added, "taken the blade and pinned you in five seconds. But I didn't."
I moved around her, stripping off my damp gear without ceremony. The bathroom light flicked on as I stepped inside, hot water already calling my sore muscles. But even the rush of steam couldn't drown the million questions spinning in my head.
Alessandro never brings anyone here. Ever.
So who the hell is she?
I returned in a tank top and sweats. She sat rigid on the couch, arms crossed, eyes fixed on a distant point, as if it could save her from me. Earlier, she looked ready to slice me open. Now, she seemed... uncomfortable.
Good.
The silence dragged on too long.
"So," I started, "are you from here?"
"Something like that."
"Right. Vague is cute." I leaned against the wall. "How'd you meet my brother?"
Her answer was a dagger of its own.
"He bought me at the auction house."
I froze. "He what?"
She stared me down, unapologetic. "He purchased me like cattle."
That can't be right. Alessandro hates those auctions. Loathes them. He's never brought a girl home. Ever.
"You're saying he's a saint now?" she added bitterly. "Your precious devil?"
Her eyes were on fire. There was something broken in them—something raw. I struck a nerve. That much was obvious.
"I'll sleep in another room," I said, pushing off the wall. "Make yourself comfortable. See you in the morning."
I made my way downstairs, phone in hand. Dialed Alessandro. No answer. I Frowned, trying it again and Still nothing.
Something coiled in my stomach. Anxiety, maybe. Dread. I called Lucca next.
He picked up on the second ring. "Lucia?"
"Yeah. I tried Alessandro's line. No response."
There was a pause. Then his voice, tight and urgent. "He's in danger. We lost contact. Last ping was near the cemetery."
"What?"
"We're sweeping the area. Two cars, four bodies, no sign of him. Wait—hold on—yeah, I think we found him. He looks injured."
The call ended before I could speak. My pulse thudded in my throat.
I typed fast: Send me the location. I'm coming. The reply came seconds later.
So much for rest.
I grabbed my helmet, kicked on my bike, and tore through the streets. The night swallowed me whole, wind biting against my skin as the engine roared beneath me. My mind wouldn't shut up.
Who was that girl? Why a sudden attack now? Was it connected to her? She didn't seem ordinary? And why had Alessandro brought her here, of all places?
By the time I reached the penthouse, I was boiling over. I punched in the code and rode the elevator up. The metallic doors slid open and—There he was.
Alessandro sat slouched on the leather couch, blood oozing down his abdomen and arm, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. The doctor hovered nearby, picking at the wound with metal tools like it were routine.
No anesthetic. No flinching. Typical masochist.
"What the hell happened?" I asked, stepping inside.
Alessandro looked up, a faint smirk dancing on his lips. "Missed me?"
I rolled my eyes. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig."
"Not the worst night I've had."
As the doctor gave him pills, he refused, "No meds," Alessandro muttered.
"Are you out of your mind?" I hissed
"Just whiskey," he said, voice thick with madness.
He took another chug, then hissed as the doctor dug in deeper. His eyes fluttered, barely holding on. As the bullet was taken out, I didn't know if it was the pain or the alcohol, but within seconds, he slumped forward, passing out.
"Idiot," I muttered, kneeling beside him.
He always played God. Thought he was untouchable. But even devils bleed.
The doctor gave me a grim look. "He'll need rest. Keep him stable."
I nodded, scanning Alessandro's pale face. My hand hovered over his. For a second, he looked like a stranger.
Something was off. This wasn't a random hit. It was too precise. Too clean. Whoever had ambushed him had inside knowledge of his Routes. Timings. Which meant...
Someone close had tipped them off.
My gut twisted. After making sure Alessandro was resting comfortably, I rose up and move toward the glass door. My thought drifted back to that girl.
She'd been waiting in my room. Wearing my clothes. And yet... she didn't seem like the mastermind type. But if not her, then who?
Lucca?
No. He'd die for Alessandro.
But someone had opened a door.
And I was going to find out who.
Even if I had to burn the whole place down to uncover the truth.