Blood and Black Roses
The rain had been falling for hours.
Sofia Romano watched droplets slide slowly down the tinted window of the taxi while the city lights of Milan blurred into streaks of gold and white. Her fingers tightened around the small black purse resting on her lap as anxiety twisted inside her stomach.
She hated nights like this.
Too cold.
Too quiet.
Too dangerous.
"We’re here," the driver muttered.
Sofia blinked and looked outside.
The nightclub stood like a dark palace in the middle of the city.
Velvet Noir.
Even the name sounded expensive.
Dangerous men stood near the entrance dressed in black suits, their expressions unreadable beneath the dim glow of the streetlights. Luxury cars lined the curb while rich laughter and music echoed faintly from inside.
Sofia swallowed hard.
She should not have come.
But when your best friend begged you for help fifteen times in one night, saying no became impossible.
Her phone buzzed.
Giulia: If you leave me alone with these rich creeps, I’ll literally die.
Sofia rolled her eyes despite herself.
Typical Giulia.
She typed quickly.
I’m outside.
Almost immediately another text came.
Hurry before Lorenzo starts flirting with me again.
Sofia smiled faintly.
At least one of them was having fun tonight.
She paid the driver and stepped into the rain.
Cold wind brushed against her bare legs beneath the silky black dress Giulia had forced her to wear earlier.
"You need to look hot," her best friend had insisted.
Sofia disagreed.
The dress was too tight.
Too revealing.
Too noticeable.
And Sofia Romano hated attention.
She pushed damp strands of dark hair behind her ear before walking toward the entrance.
One of the guards stepped forward instantly.
He was huge.
Broad shoulders.
Sharp jaw.
Expressionless eyes.
"Invitation?"
Sofia quickly reached into her purse and handed him the gold card Giulia had sent earlier.
The guard studied it carefully before nodding once.
"Fourth floor. Private section."
Private section?
Her nervousness deepened.
She had expected drinks.
Music.
Maybe annoying rich men.
Not whatever this place was.
The moment she stepped inside, warm air wrapped around her body.
The club was breathtaking.
Crystal chandeliers glowed above crowded dance floors while deep red lights illuminated marble walls and velvet furniture. Expensive perfume mixed with alcohol and smoke as laughter echoed through the massive room.
Everything screamed wealth.
Power.
Sin.
Sofia suddenly felt painfully out of place.
A waitress carrying champagne brushed past her.
Men in tailored suits stared openly.
Women dressed like models laughed against powerful-looking strangers.
Sofia forced herself toward the elevator.
Fourth floor.
Private section.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor while her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored elevator walls.
Nervous brown eyes.
Soft pink lips.
Long dark hair falling over bare shoulders.
She looked calm.
But inside?
Her heart was racing.
The elevator doors opened.
Silence greeted her.
Unlike the lower floors, the fourth level was quieter.
Exclusive.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
A long hallway stretched ahead lined with black doors and dim golden lights.
Before Sofia could move, one of the doors burst open.
"Finally!"
Giulia rushed toward her wearing a glittering silver dress and enough excitement to power the entire city.
"You took forever."
Sofia exhaled in relief.
"You said this was dinner, not some billionaire vampire meeting."
Giulia laughed loudly.
"Relax. It’s just a private party."
"Private for criminals?"
"Rich people are basically criminals anyway."
Sofia tried not to smile.
"I’m serious, Giulia. This place feels strange."
"Everything feels strange to you. Come on."
Before Sofia could protest, Giulia grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the open suite.
The room inside looked more like a luxury penthouse than a nightclub lounge.
Leather couches.
Floor to ceiling windows.
Golden lighting.
Expensive liquor displayed beside crystal glasses.
And men.
Too many dangerous-looking men.
Sofia instantly lowered her gaze.
"There she is," a man drawled from the couch.
Lorenzo.
Tall.
Handsome.
Annoyingly confident.
Giulia’s current obsession.
"Sofia Romano," he said smoothly, standing. "The mysterious best friend."
"Don’t call me mysterious."
"Then stop disappearing every time I invite you somewhere."
"Because your parties are terrifying."
Laughter filled the room.
Lorenzo grinned.
"You wound me."
Sofia relaxed slightly.
Maybe she had overreacted.
Maybe this really was just a party.
Then the room suddenly went silent.
Every conversation stopped instantly.
The shift was immediate.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Sofia frowned.
Even Lorenzo straightened.
Confused, she turned toward the doorway.
And forgot how to breathe.
A man stepped inside wearing a black suit that looked painfully expensive.
Tall.
Broad.
Terrifyingly calm.
His dark hair was pushed neatly back while a silver watch rested against his wrist. But it was his eyes that froze Sofia completely.
Gray.
Cold.
Emotionless.
The kind of eyes that belonged to someone capable of terrible things.
Power surrounded him naturally.
Like oxygen.
Like violence.
Every person in the room watched him carefully.
Respectfully.
Fearfully.
"Alessandro," Lorenzo greeted.
So this was Alessandro Moretti.
The name alone was enough to make powerful men nervous.
Sofia had heard whispers before.
Business empire.
Old money.
Dangerous connections.
But rumors never prepared her for reality.
Because Alessandro Moretti looked less like a businessman…
…and more like the devil dressed in Armani.
His gaze moved lazily around the room.
Then stopped on her.
Sofia’s pulse stumbled.
For one terrifying second, neither of them moved.
His expression did not change.
But something in his eyes sharpened slightly.
Like interest.
Like recognition.
Like possession.
Heat crawled unexpectedly up Sofia’s neck.
She looked away first.
"You must be Sofia," Alessandro said.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
Smooth enough to make her stomach tighten.
She forced herself to meet his eyes again.
"And you already know my name."
A faint smirk touched his mouth.
"I know many things."
Something about that answer unsettled her deeply.
Giulia quickly stepped between them.
"Sofia’s shy," she announced.
"I’m not shy," Sofia muttered.
Alessandro’s gaze remained fixed on her.
"No," he said quietly. "You’re cautious."
The way he said it made her feel exposed.
Seen.
Sofia crossed her arms slightly.
"And what does that say about me?"
"That you’re smart enough to recognize dangerous situations."
Silence.
God.
Even his flirting sounded threatening.
Lorenzo laughed awkwardly.
"Ignore him. Alessandro enjoys intimidating people."
"Only when necessary," Alessandro replied.
But his eyes never left Sofia.
Not once.
The rest of the evening passed strangely.
Music played softly in the background while drinks flowed endlessly around the room.
People laughed.
Talked.
Flirted.
But Sofia remained aware of one thing.
Alessandro.
Always Alessandro.
Sometimes he spoke quietly with the men near the windows.
Sometimes he checked his phone.
Sometimes he sat silently drinking whiskey.
But every few minutes, she caught him watching her.
Not casually.
Not flirtatiously.
Intensely.
As if trying to figure something out.
It should have scared her.
Maybe it did.
But beneath the fear was something worse.
Curiosity.
Around midnight, Sofia stood from the couch.
"Bathroom," she told Giulia.
"Don’t disappear," Giulia warned drunkenly.
Sofia smiled faintly before slipping out of the suite.
The hallway outside was quiet again.
Too quiet.
She followed the signs toward the restroom while adjusting the strap of her dress.
Her head hurt slightly from the noise.
Maybe she would leave soon.
This world wasn’t hers.
Rich dangerous men.
Private clubs.
Secrets hidden behind expensive smiles.
No.
Sofia belonged somewhere normal.
Safe.
The sound of angry voices interrupted her thoughts.
She slowed.
The voices came from a half-open door further down the hallway.
A man spoke first.
"You promised payment last month."
Another voice answered sharply.
"I said I needed more time."
Sofia frowned.
She should walk away.
Immediately.
But then she heard a familiar voice.
Alessandro.
"Time," he said calmly, "is expensive."
Her stomach tightened.
Something about his tone sent cold chills across her skin.
Curiosity pulled her one step closer.
Then another.
She could see inside the room now.
Three men stood near a desk.
One looked terrified.
Alessandro stood across from him, calm as ever, adjusting the cuff of his black sleeve.
"Please," the frightened man whispered. "I can fix this."
Alessandro tilted his head slightly.
"You already had your chance."
The terrified man suddenly reached inside his jacket.
Everything happened too fast.
A gun flashed.
Sofia gasped softly.
But before the man could aim properly,
Bang.
The sound exploded through the hallway.
Sofia froze.
Blood splattered across the desk.
The man collapsed instantly.
Dead.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Sofia stumbled backward in horror.
Her breathing turned sharp.
Panicked.
One of the guards looked toward the door.
"Someone’s there."
Fear crashed through her violently.
Run.
She turned instantly.
Her heel twisted against the marble floor.
Pain shot through her ankle as she nearly fell.
Footsteps approached behind her.
Fast.
Heavy.
Sofia’s heartbeat thundered.
She reached the corner and slammed directly into someone.
Strong hands caught her before she hit the floor.
Her breath stopped.
Black suit.
Silver watch.
Gray eyes.
Alessandro.
How,
He looked down at her calmly while distant music echoed faintly below them.
No emotion crossed his face.
Not guilt.
Not panic.
Nothing.
Only control.
Sofia’s lips parted soundlessly.
She had just watched him kill a man.
Alessandro studied her trembling expression carefully.
Then his gaze dropped briefly toward her shaking hands.
When he looked back up, his voice was dangerously soft.
"You weren’t supposed to see that."
Fear wrapped around her throat.
Every instinct screamed at her to run.
But his hand remained firmly around her waist.
Steady.
Warm.
Possessive.
"Please," she whispered.
For the first time all night, Alessandro’s expression changed.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
Not anger.
Not cruelty.
Something worse.
Interest.
His fingers tightened slightly against her waist.
"Now," he murmured quietly, "we have a problem."
