Chapter 1 - The Silver Fox
He was not sitting at the table with the rest of them.
Nico Rossi stood near the private mahogany bar adjacent to the VIP lounge, holding a glass of scotch and looking profoundly bored. He was a man who did not just occupy a room; he owned the gravity within it. At fifty, he possessed a sharp, dangerous elegance—silver dusting his temples, dark eyes that missed absolutely nothing, and the kind of broad-shouldered, tailored stillness that only comes from decades of unquestioned authority.
He was the head of the Rossi syndicate, a man whose name was whispered in boardrooms and back alleys alike. And tonight, he was my weapon.
I didn't hesitate. If I stopped moving, the fragile, reckless courage fueling me would evaporate. I walked across the ballroom, the red silk of my dress flowing around my legs, my eyes locked entirely on him.
He noticed me when I was still ten feet away. The boredom in his expression vanished, replaced by a slow, calculating assessment. He tracked my approach, his eyes sweeping over the red dress, before meeting my gaze with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Mr. Rossi," I said, stopping beside him at the bar. My voice was steady, betraying none of the adrenaline flooding my veins.
Nico took a slow sip of his scotch, never breaking eye contact. "Luna. Liam's... girlfriend, if I recall correctly from that agonizing dinner at Valentina's."
"Ex-girlfriend," I corrected smoothly. "As of 11:23 last night."
One thick, dark eyebrow arched. "Is that so? And yet, you are here. At an event you made very clear you despised six months ago. Wearing a dress designed specifically to start a war."
"I came to prove a point," I said, turning slightly so I was standing beside him, facing the ballroom. Across the room, I could see Liam and Amber still at the central table, oblivious to my presence. "Liam decided he preferred my sister. They made sure I caught them in my own bed."
Nico’s jaw tightened. A flicker of cold, genuine disgust flashed through his dark eyes. He was a ruthless man in business, but he belonged to an old-world school of respect. Betrayal of that intimate nature disgusted him.
"My son," Nico murmured, his voice dropping an octave, "has always been a fool who plays with cheap toys. But I admit, I am surprised to see you here, Luna. Most women would be at home, crying."
"I did my crying last night," I replied, looking up at him. "Tonight, I want him to look across this room and realize exactly what he threw away. But standing here alone doesn't send the message I want to send."
Nico turned fully toward me. The corner of his mouth twitched, a shadow of a terrifying, brilliant smile. "And what message is that, exactly?"
"That I upgraded," I whispered. "I think you're terribly bored, Nico. And I think you know exactly how much it would destroy Liam's fragile ego to see his untouchable, terrifying father paying attention to the woman he just discarded."
For a long, agonizing moment, he didn't speak. He just looked at me, seeing past the red dress and straight into the sharp, vengeful fury in my soul.
"You are playing a very dangerous game, little bird," Nico said softly, setting his glass on the bar.
May you like
"I'm not playing," I replied.
Nico held out his arm. "Then let's go ruin my son's evening."
