Chapter 1
Enzo Falcone wasn't just the ruthless heir to the city's most dangerous mafia family. To me, he was the man I had secretly loved for eight years.
On my twentieth birthday, he finally took me to his bed. I thought I'd finally won his heart.
But thirty minutes later, standing outside his private VIP lounge, I heard his underboss laughing.
"Boss, you seriously took Serena's virginity just to win a bet?"
Enzo exhaled a thick cloud of cigar smoke. "A bet's a bet. Besides, she's been obsessed with me forever. Easiest lay of my life. Though I gotta admit... breaking in a virgin has its perks."
The room erupted in sleazy cheers.
I didn't burst in. I didn't cry. I just turned around and walked out of the club.
He thought he owned me. But in five days, Enzo would wake up to find his stupid little pawn gone.
And he would never find me again.
Serena
Standing in the freezing alleyway outside the club, I swallowed the lump in my throat and dialed my college advisor's number.
"Professor Davis," I said, keeping my voice completely flat. "I've made my decision. I'll take the exchange program in Florence."
The professor sounded thrilled on the other end of the line.
"That's fantastic, Serena! With your talent, studying abroad is going to open so many doors for you. But… are you absolutely sure this time? I've brought this up plenty of times, and you were always on the fence."
He was right. He'd offered me this spot months ago—a full ride sponsored by an independent European arts foundation, completely outside the Falcone family's reach.
I'd been dragging my feet on the decision purely because of Enzo. I just couldn't bear to leave him.
Only now did I realize his sudden affection was nothing but a twisted game to win a bet with his boys. I was just the punchline to their sick joke.
That sleazy laughter from the VIP lounge was still ringing in my ears.
I shook my head hard to snap myself out of it, gripping the phone tighter. "Yes, Professor. I'm absolutely sure."
Professor Davis let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Good. I'll get your transfer paperwork started right away. It usually takes about five days to fast-track the visa. Use the time to pack and get your things in order."
"Got it. Thank you, Professor."
I had barely hung up when my screen lit up with Enzo's name.
"Where the hell are you? Why aren't you back up here? We're about to wrap things up," his deep voice demanded, laced with his usual impatience.
"I felt sick, so I went back to the estate," I replied smoothly.
His tone softened just a fraction at that. "What's wrong? You need me to leave and bring the family doctor to take a look at you?"
"No need, I'm already in bed." I forced my voice to stay even, hiding the tremble.
After hanging up, I spent an hour in the shower, scrubbing my skin until it was raw. When I finally crawled into my cold bed, I mindlessly opened my phone and scrolled through social media.
My thumb stopped on a post uploaded by one of Enzo's capos from inside the VIP lounge.
In the background of the blurry picture, Enzo had another woman in his lap. He was smiling freely—a genuine, unguarded smile he rarely showed.
I knew exactly who that was. Sienna Moretti. She'd just flown back from Europe last week. She was also the only woman Enzo had ever truly loved—the one that got away.
Before we graduated, Sienna was the untouchable princess of a rival syndicate. Beautiful, flawless pedigree, effectively a goddess in our dangerous world. Everyone used to call them the mafia's golden couple.
But three years ago, a massive, bloody turf war broke out between the families. To save her own skin, Sienna ruthlessly abandoned Enzo, fleeing to Europe and cutting off all contact.
I was just out of high school then. During that miserable summer, I was the one dragging a violently drunk, bleeding Enzo out of underground bars and taking him home, night after night.
After three months of spiraling, he finally pulled himself together.
I thought they were a closed chapter.
But a week ago, Sienna casually waltzed back into the city.
Enzo was already pursuing me then to win his twisted bet. I remember cautiously asking him if he still had feelings for her.
He had stroked my cheek, smiling effortlessly. "Don't overthink it. Having you by my side is enough."
Looking back now, the whole thing was a spectacular joke.
I was stupid enough to mistake his acting for love. In the end, I was nothing but a cheap punchline for a room full of mobsters.
All those years of quiet devotion had bought me nothing but a cold, hard slap in the face.
My eight-year dream was dead. It was time to wake the hell up.
