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Elena Romano thought she had left the criminal underworld behind. But when a deadly ambush forces her back into the life she swore to forget, she finds herself entangled with Luca DeLuca, the cold, calculating heir to a powerful mafia family.

Their uneasy alliance is built on survival—both hunted by an unknown enemy who seems to know their every move. As danger closes in, old betrayals resurface, secrets unravel, and the undeniable tension between them ignites into something just as dangerous as the world they live in.

But when the enemy reveals himself, Elena comes face to face with a past she thought was buried—a ghost she never expected to see again.

Now, the real game begins. And in a world where power is everything, trusting the wrong person could be deadly.

Blood and Drawn Desire

Elena couldn't tear her eyes away from the man in the charcoal suit. He was watching her, his expression unreadable but too knowing. A chill crawled down her spine.

Matteo grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not cruel. "I mean it, Elena. Stay away from him."

Matteo exhaled sharply. "Riccardo Bianchi."

The name meant nothing to her, but the tension in Matteo's face made it clear—it should have.

Matteo's gaze flicked to the man again before he muttered, "An old enemy."

Elena felt the weight of those words settle over her like a warning. In a world like this, enemies weren't people you could ignore. They were threats—dangerous, patient, waiting.

She forced herself to turn away, focusing on the bar, but she could feel Riccardo's stare lingering on her.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks and whispers, but Elena remained on edge. The weight of her new reality pressed down harder than ever.

By the time Matteo signaled for her to leave, her head ached from the noise, the tension, and the million unanswered questions swirling in her mind.

Luca was waiting when they returned to the mansion, lounging in his office with a whiskey in hand. He barely looked up when she entered.

"How was your first night?" His voice was smooth, unreadable.

Luca smirked, finally meeting her gaze. "I heard."

Of course he had. Nothing happened in Oblivion without him knowing.

She took a slow breath, then said, "Who is Riccardo Bianchi?"

Luca's expression didn't change, but the room's atmosphere shifted—colder, heavier.

Matteo tensed beside her, clearly regretting saying anything.

Luca set his glass down, standing with a deliberate grace that made her stomach twist. He closed the space between them, and Elena forced herself not to step back.

His fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her chin up. "Riccardo Bianchi," he murmured, "is a man who should have died years ago."

His thumb traced the edge of her jaw, his touch deceptively gentle. But there was violence in his eyes.

"And if he's looking at you, Elena…" His voice dropped lower, dangerous. "That means I need to find out why."

Luca wasn't just a man who played games.

He was the kind of man who ended them.

Ghost of the Past