Engaged to the Devil, Loved by His Shadow

Serafina's POV

The first gunshot echoed through the marble hall like a verdict.

I didn't flinch.

I learned long ago that flinching only amused men like him.The man on his knees collapsed forward, blood blooming across the polished floor. His body twitched once, then stilled. The smell of iron rose, thick and choking, curling into my lungs.

"Clean it," my fiancé said calmly, lowering the gun. His voice didn't change. It never did. The men moved immediately, dragging the corpse away as if it were trash. Someone wiped the blood before it could stain the rug imported from Italy.

Everything in this house was expensive. Even death had rules, I stood beside him, hands folded neatly in front of me, spine straight, chin lifted perfectly.That was my role.

Luca De Santis turned his head slightly, just enough to look at me. His dark eyes skimmed over my white dress, my bare arms, the diamond ring on my finger. Possession, not affection, flickered in his gaze.

"You're quiet tonight," he said. I forced my lips into a soft smile.

"I didn't know I was expected to speak." A few men chuckled. Luca didn't. He liked obedience. Silence. Beauty without opinions.

"Good," he said.

"A wife who knows when to listen lives longer." My stomach tightened, but I nodded.

"Yes, Luca."

That was when I felt it. Not his gaze but someone else's. I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Matteo De Santis.

Luca's cousin, his shadow, his weapon.

He stood near the pillars, dressed in black like the rest, hands clasped behind his back, face carved from stone. Unlike the others, his eyes weren't on Luca.

They were on me, not hungrily, not possessively but as if he were memorizing something he was forbidden to touch.

Our eyes met.

For a fraction of a second, the world narrowed to that single, dangerous thread.

Then Matteo looked away. My pulse stumbled.

"Take her upstairs," Luca ordered suddenly. "I have business to finish."

My body reacted before my mind did. I turned, waiting for one of the guards.

Instead, Matteo stepped forward. "I'll escort her." The room went still.

Luca studied him, slow and assessing, like a predator deciding whether another predator was still useful.

"Very well," Luca said. "Make sure nothing happens to what belongs to me." The words landed like chains around my wrists.

Matteo inclined his head. "Of course." He didn't touch me as we walked. He never did. Not even by accident.

The hallway felt longer than usual, my heels echoing too loudly against the floor. My skin burned with awareness of the blood downstairs, of the ring on my finger, of the man walking half a step behind me.

When we reached the stairs, Matteo spoke for the first time. "You shouldn't have been there tonight."

I stopped.Slowly, I turned to face him.

"And miss my reminder of what happens to disobedient people?"

His jaw tightened. "You don't belong in rooms like that."

I laughed