Author's POV
There was always blood behind beauty in the mafia world. Beneath the silks and suits, the money and mansions, there were secrets carved in violence and betrayal.
The morning after the Gala brought a storm. Rain lashed the windows of St. Damaris like claws, as though the sky itself was warning them of what was coming.
And for Vivienne Sinclair, the game was changing faster than even she expected.
Vivienne's POV
My heels clicked against the marble floor as I walked to class, every step a message: I'm still here. I'm not afraid.
I passed whispers. Saw glances.
Apparently, dancing with Ezra, laughing with Luca, and vanishing with Damian had painted me in brighter colors than I'd planned.
Even Kai had spoken to me last night, cryptic and cold as always:
"You don't belong here, but you wear the mask well."
He was right.
I didn't belong in this world.
But I would master it.
Author's POV
Ezra, Luca, Kai, and Damian had their own version of the morning after. A private meeting. No security. No assistants.
Just the four of them. Brothers in power. Rivals in silence.
And all of them, thinking about the same girl.
"She's not like the others," Damian finally said, scowling.
"That's the problem," Kai muttered, arms folded.
Luca leaned back in his chair. "Or maybe that's what makes her interesting."
Ezra said nothing. Just stared out the window, one hand tapping a pattern on the glass.
It was Luca who asked the question everyone else avoided.
"Are we falling for her?"
Silence.
Then:
Ezra stood. "If we are, we'll burn for it."
Vivienne's POV
Professor Allaire's voice droned on about political ideologies and power shifts, but I wasn't listening. Not really.
I was watching Emilia.
She sat two rows ahead, shoulders tense, eyes flicking over her notes like they might vanish if she blinked.
She was unraveling. Slowly.
And I'd barely touched her yet.
As class ended, she turned suddenly. "Vivienne, can we talk?"
I tilted my head. "Now?"
She nodded, leading me to the hallway. Her hands were clenched.
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but this isn't a game. These guys… they're dangerous."
I smiled sweetly. "I know. That's why I like them."
Her jaw tightened. "You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly, Emilia. You think you're the main character. But maybe it's time someone else took center stage."
She flinched like I'd slapped her.
And then she walked away.
Author's POV
Later that night, Vivienne was summoned.
A black car. No driver's name. Just a text:
Get in. -EB
She didn't hesitate.
The ride was silent. Tinted windows. Classical music playing softly—something ancient and angry.
They arrived at a private estate outside the city, dark stone and gothic gates. A Belcastro property.
Ezra met her at the door. No tie. Sleeves rolled. Gun holstered under his coat.
"Why am I here?" she asked.
"To show you something," he replied. "Something only a villain should see."
Vivienne's POV
We walked through halls lined with paintings—ancient mafia leaders, masked assassins, forgotten queens. I felt them watching me.
Ezra opened a door near the end of the hall.
Inside was a room of weapons.
Blades, guns, poisons, files.
But the center held a single red folder. With my name on it.
He placed it in my hands.
"Everything I know about you. Everything I thought I knew."
I flipped it open.
It wasn't just this life.
It was my past one.
"How did you—?"
Ezra didn't answer. He just stepped closer. "You're not like anyone I've ever met. And that terrifies me."
I looked up at him.
And for the first time, I let the mask slip.
"Good."
---
Outside the estate, a sniper scoped in on the house.
Inside a black van, Emilia held the trigger.
Her hands trembled.
And her eyes burned.
"She doesn't belong here," she whispered.