Forbidden romance with a little bite of spice

Chapter 1

Smoke and Mirrors

The air inside the DeLuca estate was thick with cigar smoke and hushed conversation, the scent of whiskey and danger woven into the walls like a permanent ghost of sins past. Isabella Moretti had no business being here. Yet here she stood, wrapped in a sleek black dress that did little to hide the way her breath hitched when he walked into the room.

Luca DeLuca. The heir to the empire that had made her father’s life a living hell.

She watched him from across the crowded ballroom, the flickering candlelight catching the sharp angles of his face. He was effortlessly composed, dressed in a tailored black suit that fit like a second skin. Women circled him like moths to an open flame, their gazes hungry, their smiles practiced. But none of them affected him—none held his attention.

Except her.

Luca’s dark eyes locked onto hers, amusement flickering in their depths. Her heart stuttered, but she refused to look away. It was a game they had played for years—stolen glances at rival events, sharp words exchanged like blades, a tension that crackled between them but never ignited.

Tonight, something felt different.

He moved through the crowd like a predator cutting through the brush, slow and deliberate, until he was only a breath away. Too close.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk, dangerous as a blade.

Bella arched a brow, feigning indifference even as her pulse betrayed her. “Don’t flatter yourself, DeLuca. Not everything revolves around you.”

A slow smirk curled his lips. “No? Then why do you look like you’re waiting for me to say something you’ll pretend to hate?”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her wrist, sending a jolt up her spine. It was fleeting—so brief she could have imagined it—but it shattered the illusion of distance between them.

Luca leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You shouldn’t be here, Moretti.”

She forced a smirk, masking the way her breath caught. “Afraid I’ll uncover all your dirty little secrets?”

“Afraid you won’t leave before it’s too late.”

The warning curled around her, settling in her chest like a spark waiting to ignite. But instead of pulling away, she held her ground, drawn to the danger that radiated from him. The worst part? He knew it.

An hour later, the party had shifted into something more intimate, guests filtering out until only the most dangerous men remained. Bella knew she should have left. Should have walked away before she got caught in the web Luca DeLuca so effortlessly spun.

But instead, she found herself in the dimly lit hallway of his private wing, her back pressed against the wall as he caged her in with nothing but the intensity in his gaze.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of her jaw, “why do you keep tempting fate?”

Bella swallowed hard. “Maybe I like the thrill.”

A humorless chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Careful, Moretti. I don’t play fair.”

She should have been scared. But fear and desire twisted together too tightly inside her, making it impossible to tell them apart. He was everything she had been warned about—ruthless, untouchable, a man her father would kill on sight.

And yet, here she was, standing on the edge of something she couldn’t name.

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” Luca murmurs, stepping closer, the scent of whiskey and power rolling off him. “And you have a control problem,” she shoots back. He chuckles, dark and low. “And yet, here you are, letting me get this close.” His fingers ghost over her wrist, sending a shiver up her spine. “I should walk away,” she whispers. “You should,” he agrees, eyes dropping to her lips. But neither of them moves.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, the touch featherlight yet searing. “You look at me like you want to run,” he said, voice rough with something dark. “But you haven’t moved.”

“Neither have you.”

Luca’s hand wraps around her throat, not tight, but enough to remind her that he’s in control. “You keep looking at me like that, princesa, and I’ll make sure you never look at another man again.” Bella glares at him, but her breath hitches as his lips brush her ear. “You should hate me,” she whispers. “I do,” he growls, pinning her against the desk. “And yet, I can’t stop thinking about how sweet you’d taste.”

The space between them disappeared in an instant.

His mouth was on hers before she could think—before she could remind herself why this was a mistake, why this was suicide. But none of it mattered when his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him like he needed her as much as she needed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw, consuming, a clash of fire and fury that had been building since childhood.

His hands slam against the wall, caging her in. “Tell me to stop,” he growls, voice thick with hunger. Isabella’s breath comes fast, her fingers clutching his shirt. She should. She has to. But instead, she pulls him closer, lips crashing against his. His response is instant—raw, possessive—as he lifts her onto the cold marble of his bathroom counter, hands exploring, mouths devouring. “You’re mine now,” he murmurs against her skin. And God help them both—because she wanted to be.

Luca growled against her lips, his hands roaming over the curves of her body, claiming and demanding all at once. Bella gasped as he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed her against the mirror. Every nerve in her body for the thrill of touching something forbidden.

He tore his mouth away just long enough to rasp against her skin, “You know what happens next, don’t you?”

She did. And yet, she didn’t stop him. Didn’t stop herself.

Instead, she dragged her nails down his back, arching into him as his lips traced fire down her neck. “Then don’t make me wait.”

Luca cursed under his breath, his control unraveling as he captured her lips once more, swallowing every moan, every cursed thought between them.

But just as his hands slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, just as she let herself believe she could have this—

A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.

“Luca, we have a problem.”

His entire body went rigid. Bella barely had time to catch her breath before he was setting her down, his expression shifting into something unreadable. Something dangerous.

He adjusted his cuffs, his jaw tightening. “Stay here.”

She grabbed his wrist before he could move. “What’s going on?”

His eyes met hers, filled with something that sent a chill down her spine. “War.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her breathless, shaken, and impossibly, undeniably his.

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Chapter 2

War

Copy for chapter 2