~ Chapter 11 ~

The masquerade continued in a whirl of colors and facades, but for Seraphina, the room felt like a battlefield cloaked in elegance. Leo's arm remained a firm anchor around her waist as they moved through the crowd, nodding to acquaintances and allies while silently assessing potential threats.

Seraphina's heart pounded with a mix of fear and adrenaline. Every glance from a masked stranger, every subtle movement, felt charged with danger. And yet, there was an undeniable allure to the game they were playing—a dance on the edge of a knife.

"Smile," Leo murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "Let them think we're here to enjoy ourselves."

She obeyed, forcing a small smile onto her lips as she gazed up at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Not particularly. But watching you hold your own? That's something."

Before she could respond, a man approached—a towering figure dressed in a deep burgundy suit, his mask shaped like a predator's snarl. He extended a hand to Seraphina, his smile polite but predatory.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and untrustworthy.

"No," Leo said instantly, his tone cold enough to freeze the air around them.

The man chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I wasn't asking you."

Seraphina hesitated, glancing at Leo. His jaw was tight, his grip on her waist unyielding.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice steady. "But I'm spoken for tonight."

The man's smile faded, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Pity. Perhaps another time."

He stepped back, disappearing into the crowd, but the unease he left behind lingered.

A Game of Power

As the evening progressed, it became clear that Vittorio's masquerade was more than a social event—it was a show of power. Allies and enemies alike circled the room, each interaction laced with veiled threats and promises.

Leo guided Seraphina through the dance floor, his hand firm against her back. She could feel the tension in him, the barely restrained violence simmering beneath his composed exterior.

"You're wound tight," she whispered, trying to lighten the mood.

He glanced down at her, his expression softening just enough to make her heart skip. "This isn't my kind of scene."

"And yet, you're the most dangerous person here," she said, her voice barely audible over the music.

A dark chuckle escaped him. "You're not wrong."

As the music swelled, Leo led her into a dance. His movements were confident and commanding, and Seraphina found herself mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes.

"You're surprisingly good at this," she said, her voice teasing.

"Don't tell anyone," he replied with a smirk. "It'll ruin my reputation."

For a brief moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by a quiet intimacy. But the moment shattered when Matteo appeared at the edge of the dance floor, his expression grim.

"We have a problem," he said, his voice low.

Leo immediately straightened, his demeanor shifting back to cold calculation. "What is it?"

"Someone's tampered with the cars," Matteo said. "We're being boxed in."

The Escape

Leo didn't hesitate. "We're leaving. Now."

Seraphina barely had time to react before he was leading her toward the exit, his grip on her hand firm. Matteo fell into step beside them, his gaze scanning the crowd for signs of danger.

"What's happening?" Seraphina asked, her voice laced with fear.

"Vittorio's making his move," Leo said curtly. "Stay close to me."

As they reached the courtyard, the tension was palpable. The sleek black cars that had brought them were surrounded by masked figures, their postures threatening.

"Plan B," Matteo muttered, drawing a concealed weapon from his jacket.

Leo glanced at Seraphina, his expression unreadable. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded without hesitation.

"Good."

In a blur of motion, Leo pulled her behind him as Matteo opened fire, the sharp crack of gunshots echoing through the night. Chaos erupted as the masked figures scattered, returning fire.

"Go!" Leo barked, shoving Seraphina toward Matteo.

"What about you?" she cried, panic rising in her chest.

"I'll catch up. Just go!"

Matteo grabbed her arm, pulling her toward a side entrance. "He'll be fine," he said, though his tone was anything but reassuring.

Seraphina's heart pounded as they sprinted through the narrow alleyways behind the villa, the sounds of the skirmish fading into the distance.

When they finally reached a secluded safe house, Seraphina collapsed onto a worn leather couch, her body trembling with adrenaline.

Matteo paced the room, his phone pressed to his ear as he tried to reach Leo.

"Is he…" Seraphina began, her voice breaking.

"He's fine," Matteo said, though his expression betrayed his concern. "Leo's not the kind of man who goes down easily."

The Devil Returns

Hours passed before the door burst open, and Leo strode in, bloodied but alive.

"Leo!" Seraphina exclaimed, rushing to him.

He caught her in his arms, holding her tightly. "I told you I'd catch up," he said, his voice rough but steady.

Her hands brushed against his blood-streaked shirt. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing," he said dismissively, though the exhaustion in his eyes told a different story.

She glared at him. "You're impossible."

"And you're too soft," he countered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Despite herself, Seraphina laughed, the sound shaky but genuine.

"Let's just call it even," she said.

Leo's gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Deal."

For now, they had survived. But both of them knew the war was far from over. And as they stood there, holding onto each other in the aftermath, they couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

To Be Continued...