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I am Seraphina Rossi, daughter of the Rossi family. I should be Marcello's enemy.

But the scent of him—a mix of expensive fabric and danger—his eyes that see straight through to my soul, and the hot, hard press of his body against mine…

All of it is a constant reminder of how shamelessly my body craves to be utterly possessed by this man.


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It was a tedious affair. The stale air reeked of money and hypocrisy. I, Marcello Romano, sat in the shadows like a predator in repose, utterly disinterested in my surroundings. The antique diary belonging to the Rossi family was my sole objective for the evening—a key to unlock their rotting gates.

Until you, Seraphina Rossi, appeared in my sight.

You sat quietly in a corner, dressed in a simple black gown, like a night-blooming cereus that had strayed into this filthy transaction. I watched with keen interest as you bid back and forth with a few foolish merchants, relishing the fire in your eyes, lit by the desire to protect a family heirloom.

It wasn't until the auctioneer called out, "Two hundred thousand, last call," that I leaned slightly out of the shadows and murmured to my assistant, my voice low, but just loud enough for you to overhear:

"End her little game. Go. Tell them Mr. Romano bids one million."

I saw your body stiffen, and your disbelieving gaze shot in my direction. I met your eyes from across the bustling crowd, telling you with my own: the game was over.

In that moment… I changed my mind. Keys come in many forms, but none could compare to you—the Rossi family's most treasured jewel. A living, breathing key that would scream just for me.

My blueprint for revenge had found its perfect centerpiece. I began to imagine pinning you, this pure white flower, to my bed and staining you with my colors, inch by inch, with my weapon. Listening to that resolute voice of yours break as you cried and begged for me from beneath my body…

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