Chapter 1 - HE SAW THE BRUISE SHE TRIED TO HIDE—AND THE WHOLE EMPIRE KNEW CHASE WAS A DEAD MAN WALKING!
Vittorio Servino did not move. He stood in the silent, dimly lit corridor of the 28th floor, his dark eyes locked onto Katarina’s face with a precision that felt like a physical weight. The corporate mask she had spent years perfecting—the precise smile, the steady voice, the calculated posture—was disintegrating under his gaze.
"Traffic, Miss Aiello?" Vittorio’s voice was a low, smooth baritone that carried the chilling authority of a man who owned the very air they were breathing.
"Yes, Mr. Servino," Katarina said, her voice barely a whisper. She forced her shoulders to relax, though the movement sent a sharp, agonizing jolt from her bruised shoulder straight down her spine. "The construction on the bridge. I should have planned ahead."
Vittorio took a single step closer. The scent of cedarwood, rich tobacco, and raw power enveloped her. He didn't look at her eyes; his gaze dropped to her collarbone, where the high collar of her sand-colored blouse shifted slightly.
Before she could react, Vittorio reached out. His fingers were surprisingly warm, but his grip on her chin was absolute steel. He tilted her face upward into the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway.
"The foundation you wear is expensive, Katarina," Vittorio murmured, his thumb brushing slowly over her jawline. He applied just enough pressure to make her gasp, his thumb wiping away a layer of the thick concealer.
Beneath it, the ugly, dark purple imprint of Chase’s fingers was revealed.
The air in the hallway instantly froze. The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Katarina saw the subtle shift in Vittorio’s eyes—the quiet, calculated stillness of a predator that had just identified its prey.
"Who did this?" he asked. The question wasn't loud. It was delivered with a flat, terrifying calm that made her knees tremble.
"I... I fell, sir. I bumped into the dresser this morning," she lied, her voice shaking violently now. "I'm just clumsy."
Vittorio’s thumb lingered on her skin, his touch suddenly turning incredibly gentle, tracing the edge of the bruise as if cataloging the exact amount of force used to create it.
"I have spent my entire life dealing with liars, Miss Aiello," Vittorio said softly, his face inches from hers. "A fall does not leave a thumbprint on the left side of the jaw and three distinct finger marks on the right. Who is he?"
"Please, Mr. Servino," she whispered, tears finally escaping her eyes, cutting clean tracks through her heavy makeup. "I just want to do my job."
Vittorio slowly pulled his hand back, sliding it into his trouser pocket. He looked down at her swollen ankle, noticing the slight, unnatural angle at which she was standing.
"Go to your desk," he commanded quietly. "Joanna will bring you ice. You will not leave this floor until I tell you to."
May you like
He turned on his heel and walked toward his private office. But as the heavy mahogany doors closed behind him, Katarina saw his right-hand man, Enzo, waiting in the shadows. Vittorio whispered a single sentence to Enzo, whose face went completely pale before he nodded and vanished down the private elevator.
Katarina collapsed onto the nearest chair, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had spent months hiding the monster in her bed, but in less than two minutes, the most dangerous man in Philadelphia had dragged her secret into the light.
