Ada_Stormzy

When the brutal patriarch of the Scarlatti family dies under mysterious circumstances, his estranged daughter, Valentina Scarlatti, is summoned back from exile to claim the empire she once ran from. As she steps into the shadows of her family’s throne, she discovers her father left behind more than secrets—he left enemies, blood oaths, and a vendetta that threatens to burn the whole dynasty down.

Standing in her way is Bryan Moretti, a ruthless fixer from the rival Moretti syndicate with a vendetta of his own. But when a mutual enemy surfaces—one who wants both families destroyed—Valentina and Bryan must form a dangerous alliance, where trust is traded for power, and desire is a weapon neither can afford to wield.

QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD

The rain hadn't stopped for three days.

It drummed against the windows of the Vellaro estate like a warning. The city beyond was veiled in fog, the streets glistening with secrets. Inside, Valentina sat at the long dining table—alone, untouched food in front of her, wine glass clutched too tightly in her hand.

When Bryan entered, she didn't look up.

"You're late," she said quietly.

"I wasn't aware I was summoned," he replied, his voice low and edged.

"You weren't." She took a slow sip of wine. "But you came anyway."

He moved toward her, pouring himself a glass without asking. Silence pressed in around them like velvet—soft but suffocating.

There were shadows beneath his eyes. He hadn't slept. Neither had she.

"How many people have you killed for loyalty?" she asked.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "You mean today, or in general?"

She smiled bitterly. "I'm serious."

She tilted her head. "And would you kill for me?"

That silence again—charged now, like the static before lightning.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked around the table, slowly, deliberately, until he stood behind her chair.

"I don't kill for loyalty," he said. "I kill for belief. That's rarer."

"And do you believe in me,Bryan?" she asked without turning.

His hands brushed her shoulders. She tensed, not from fear, but the unbearable intimacy of it. His touch wasn't rough, wasn't soft. It hovered in that dangerous space between.

"I believe," he whispered, "you were never meant to be someone's daughter. You were meant to be someone's reckoning."

Later that night, she stood in her private greenhouse—the one her mother had built, the one her father let wither when she died.

Now it bloomed again, violent and fragrant. Roses black as ink. Orchids like open mouths. Poisonous beauty.

Bryan leaned in the doorway, watching her run gloved fingers over a thorned stem.

"You're rebuilding it," he said.

"It's mine now," she replied. "Everything here is."

He stepped forward. The space between them crackled.

"You wear power like perfume," he said. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Why? Would you want to see me without it?"

His throat moved as he swallowed. "Yes."

The next evening, Bryan stood on the edge of the rooftop garden as the city lit beneath him. Valentina joined him quietly, a fur-lined coat around her shoulders, bare legs beneath.

They stood like that—side by side, two shadows atop an empire built on blood and betrayal.

"I used to love this city," she said. "Before it took everything."

"It gave you this,"Bryan said, gesturing to the estate, the skyline, the kingdom.

"No," she whispered. "I took this. There's a difference."

He turned to her. "And now that you have it?"

She met his eyes. The wind whipped her hair, gold catching moonlight.

"Now I want something no one can steal."

But when he reached for her—just once, to steady a falling wisp of hair behind her ear—her breath caught like a blade in her throat.

Chapter 6: Touch me like a threat