SERENA'S POV

His statement made me glance closely at the supposed son, and it felt as though fate were having a cruel joke on me, because standing next to my father was none other than the rude, handsome brute I had bumped into earlier.

His well-carved eyebrow arched in mockery, and a knowing smile danced at the edges of his lips. His calm arrogance only fueled my rising anger, but I dug my fingers into my palm, forcing myself to remain composed.

You can't provoke me, son of a bitch. I'm in control of my emotions.

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding and..." Antonio, attempting to mask his nervousness, tried to ease the tension. But before he could finish, my father interrupted him.

"Calm down, Serena," my father chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

Just moments ago, I was determined not to give the gossipy crowd any drama to chew on, yet here I was.

"I meant he's like a son to me. Remember Uncle Romano?" my father asked, his expression deceptively calm, though his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yeah," I replied flatly, though the mention of Uncle Romano caught my attention.

How could I forget him? Uncle Romano wasn't just my father's close friend, he was also the one person I thought understood me well, even though I was little then.

I remember how hard I cried at his funeral, if I had ever felt heartbreak, I think that was it.

"Well, this is his son. Raphael Moretti,"

"Ooh, nice!" I nodded slowly, but the word barely conveyed what was going through my mind.

"Nice" didn't even begin to describe the sinfully handsome man standing in front of me. From his sleek, wavy dark hair to his sculpted face, with the slightly broken nose that only added to his rugged charm, every inch of him screamed danger.

I love danger, but even I knew my limits. And right now, that limit was shouting at me to keep my distance from this man.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Moretti. Maybe we could arrange a time to meet and discuss business?"

"I don't think-"

"Of course," my father cut in smoothly. "I'm sure Serena would be happy to have dinner with you this week,"

I shot him a glare, which didn't diminish the wide grin on his face. I muttered something about having an appointment and quickly excused myself.

Antonio hesitated, torn between following me or staying with his boss, but in the end, I guess duty won over friendship. Though I could have used some company at that moment.

I slid into my car and decided to take a quiet drive around Las Vegas to settle my troubled mind.

I tried to pinpoint what was unsettling me. Of course, it all came back to the conversation I'd just had. My mind told me not to overthink it, but I couldn't help it.

This wasn't the first time my father had introduced me to one of his business partners, but it was the first time he had proposed a meeting with one of them without him.

What are you planning now, Mr. Giovanni?

A pair of beautiful black eyes framed by thick, curly lashes flashed through my mind as I drove past the electronic gate of the Giovanni mansion.

"I don't like you already, Raphael Moretti," I murmured under my breath as I opened the front door and headed for my bedroom.

The house was quiet, thankfully. The board-less wall clock read 11:25 p.m.

I was just steps from my room when I heard movement behind me.

Without bothering to check, I knew exactly who it was.

"You're back. How was the party?" Lilian, my half-sister, asked, sounding like she'd just returned from a party herself.

"Not half as bad," I shrugged, reaching for my door handle.

"Did you meet him? Raphael Moretti?" she asked, her tone breathless, almost eager.

I shot her an inquisitive glance, waiting for her to elaborate.

"My friend Gina said he was at the party," she explained, trying to gauge reaction.

"Sorry, but I don't know who you're talking about," I lied coldly, shutting the door in her face.

The soft golden light of my room filled the space as I entered. It was cozy, my sanctuary, everything from the fabric of the furniture to the Persian rug was chosen by me.

I pulled off my clothes, and just as I was about to head for the shower, I heard footsteps approaching my door. I paused and glanced at the door as the footsteps stopped just outside.

I saw Lilian's shadow lingering for a while before she finally walked away.

I stared at the door, a strange unease settling in my stomach, before I made my way to the shower.

God knows I don't have the patience to deal with her games tonight.

But something suddenly clicked in my mind. If Lilian was so interested in Raphael, why wasn't she at the party?

Unless...

A thought struck me, and I turned off the shower, the feeling of dread in my chest growing.

I hurried out of the bathroom, snatched my phone from the bedside table, and quickly dialed the only person on my speed dial.

The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Why did you restrict Lilian from attending the wedding today?" I asked immediately, my tone sharp.

"Did she tell you?"

"Answer the question, Dad," I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ooh, my sweet girl. This promise was made long before you were born," he said, his voice heavy with a sigh and another feeling that I couldn't quite name.

The unease in me deepened, but I pressed on.

"And a Black Diamond never breaks a promise," he added, his voice oddly distant.

"My Serena, Raphael is your betrothed and you are going to marry him."

The bombshell dropped, and for a moment, the world stood still.

SERENA'S POV

"Ooh, my dear, you look tired," my stepmom tutted in an overtly caring voice, attempting to touch my face as I stepped into the kitchen. I expertly avoided her hand, taking a step back.

She was in her late fifties but could easily pass for someone in her late thirties, thanks to all the surgery she'd had.

Lilian, my half-sister, looked much like her, with that annoyingly innocent beauty that made them look warm and very much womanly, with deep curves in all the right places.

At least those curves weren't surgically enhanced. Or were they? Who could tell with women like this?

"Yeah," I muttered, walking towards the double-chested fridge to grab a bottle of water, and after a moment's hesitation, an apple.

"Your father told me about the situation with this Raphael... errr... issue," she waved her hand, always so dramatic.

No, he didn't. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye while I gulped down the water like my life depended on it.

In that moment, maybe it did. I stayed up all night surfing the net, trying to dig up any information on my betrothed, but it seemed like I'd stumbled upon a Don who was either a saint or damn good at keeping his life private.

The only thing I found was an old newspaper interview from five years ago about him being one of the youngest and most successful businessmen. That was it.

I raked a hand through my black hair for the hundredth time, as I walked out of the kitchen, the bottle tucked under my arm and the apple in my hand.

"If you want me to talk to your father about not wanting this arrangement..." she trailed off, glancing at me like she wasn't sure how much I knew. "... after all, it's a Giovanni's daughter that was promised, and luckily, there are two of you..."

She was fishing. I could see right through it. She didn't have all the details.

"Never mind, I'll handle it myself," I said with a false bravado before walking out of the kitchen.

I saw Lilian, startled, trying to pretend she hadn't been eavesdropping on our conversation.

She was standing at the hallway, but quickly straightened up as I passed her and made my way back to my room.

For the first time in a long while, I found myself agreeing with Isabella.

It was a Giovanni's daughter that was promised. But only if my father could be so easily persuaded.

I sighed as I dropped down at my makeshift study desk at the extreme end of my room. I hadn't checked in on Jillian, the manager of my fashion house.

Doing something business-related might at least take my mind off these betrothal shenanigans.

My phone vibrated in my hand just as I was about to call Jillian. The caller ID read Antonio.

"What is it?" I flipped open my jotter to write down my to-do list for the day.

"Just checking up on my current favorite person," he responded in his usual cheerful tone.

"I haven't been kidnapped yet, if that's what you want to know," I replied snidely.

"Ever the cheerful lady, aren't you?" He chuckled, causing a little smile to tug at my lips.

"As the wingman to the Don of one of the oldest cartels, I've had to do business with all kinds of people," his tone shifted, turning somber. "

I've met different types-some cruel, some maniacal... and Raphael Moretti? He's on another level.

He never reveals his emotions, and staring into those devilishly black eyes of his won't tell you what he's planning next.

They call him the Black Devil for a reason. He's dangerous, Serena. Dangerous,"

My heart skipped a beat. Antonio's words sunk in, and I felt my stomach churn. I had already known that Raphael was dangerous-hell, everyone knew that. But hearing it spoken so clearly, so matter-of-factly, made it all the more real.

I rolled my eyes to try and brush it off. I'd been planning my escape from this violent world for years, but now? This marriage was staring me right in the face, mocking everything I'd worked to build.

"I don't know what your father was thinking, bringing up that long-forgotten promise of his," Antonio sighed, pausing for a moment. "But I think he has his reasons,"

"Thank you, Antonio," I said, my voice softer now, a hint of gratitude in my tone. Without waiting for a reply, I disconnected the call and stood up, walking toward my father's study.

I knew rumors about the Moretti cartel-how ruthless they were in business-but they were just that, rumors. I had no idea who Raphael Moretti even was until yesterday.

I reached my destination and flung open the door.

"I'm not marrying him." My father looked up from his MacBook, his tired eyes behind his glasses. He sighed, rubbing his forehead, clearly exhausted.

I knew he had a lot on his plate, and I almost felt guilty for adding to it, but almost wasn't enough to discourage me from walking away from this life behind. This life that was full of bloodshed and constant fear.

"I'm not marrying Raphael, and that's final," I repeated, gripping the door handle with my shaking hand, prepared to leave the room.

"Come here, Serena, there's something important you need to know," he said in a low voice, the tentative smile on his face making me hesitate.

If this was another one of his tricks to get me to agree to the marriage, I wasn't falling for it.

As though reading my mind, he spoke again, and this time, the word that came from his lips made my stomach drop.

"Please."

I froze. Please? My father rarely used that word.

I closed the door behind me, making sure no one could overhear. I walked over to his desk, my mind racing, my hands suddenly clammy.

"What is it?" I asked, standing before him like an errant student.

He picked up a brown file from his desk, opened it, and handed me a piece of paper.

"What is this?" I asked, but he remained silent, his gaze steady, waiting for me to read it.

My heart pounded in my chest as I took the paper and read it. I could feel my stomach drop as soon as I realized what it was: a medical report.

I hated doctor reports. The sterile, white hospital walls were all too familiar to me. Pain. Grief. Loss. And now, staring down at the paper, I knew this wasn't good news.

My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill, but I swallowed them back. I looked up at my father, trying to steady my breath.

"This isn't true," I whispered, my voice trembling.

He sighed heavily and slowly rose from his seat. I could see the burden he carried. "The doctor says I have three months... before..."

"No," I cut him off sharply, my voice breaking, too afraid to hear the word that loomed over us-death.

"It's a matter of time, my sweet girl. And mine is running fast." He reached out to lift my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I want to see you married before I leave."

He stroked my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that I hadn't even realized had fallen.

"Can you do this for me, my princess? Please?"

SERENA'S POV

It felt as if arrangements had been happening behind my back, and they were merely waiting for my final acceptance.

Within two days, we were already hosting the Moretti family at our dining table-along with my soon-to-be husband.

"Did you also make the piece you're wearing?" Isadora, Raphael's aunt, asked in her rich, sonorous voice as the chef and his help served dinner.

She was an elegant woman who redefined the word "classy," exuding a high taste in fashion that was evident in her outfit.

She wasn't gaudy, nor was she overly flashy.

The stylish nude and brown dress, she was wearing looked oddly familiar, accentuated with minimal makeup and a single piece of jewelry, a golden chain with a rose gold, diamond-shaped pendant.

"Yes," I responded politely, waiting for my father to start eating so I could do the same.

I made a point to ignore Raphael, who sat directly across from me.

Thankfully, he seemed to return the favor.

"What is your brand name again?" Isadora paused, glancing down at her dress before smiling knowingly. "Serene, right?"

That's when it clicked. I knew that design. Scratch that, I sketched it.

I had been too preoccupied lately to check in on my fashion house or even call Susanne, my manager.

I needed to do that soon.

"It suits you well," I replied with a small smile, genuinely pleased.

It was one of my exclusive pieces, and from the look of it, she must have spent a fortune acquiring it.

The dress hugged her perfectly, complementing her caramel skin.

"Thank you. Raphael said the same thing when he saw me try it on,"

"No, I didn't," he interjected, his tone flat, his smoky voice indifferent.

A small frown formed on Isadora's face, and she turned to reprimand him when an uninvited guest rushed giddily into the room.

Lilian.

She had been avoiding me ever since my father announced my engagement to Raphael.

If she was trying to show me she was upset, well the joke was on her.

"Aunty, you're here already!" Lilian chirped, hugging Isadora from behind.

I thought she had gone shopping with her mother. My father always the crafty man that he was had suggested she went out to get new clothes.

Though I knew he just didn't want them around when the Moretti's arrived, he even went as far as handing his wife his maxi card to ensure they were well occupied.

Yet, here she was, chatting animatedly with Isadora, as if they were best of friends.

I shot them a pointed look before deciding it wasn't worth my energy and returned my focus to my meal.

Their laughter filled the air, with Lilian making every effort to drag Raphael into the conversation.

If her goal was to make me uncomfortable, she needn't bother.

The thought of pledging my wedding vows to the stranger sitting across from me was discomfort enough. If I could have switched places with her, I would do so in a heartbeat.

"Lilian, why don't you take a seat and let our guests enjoy their meal?" my father chided lightly before turning to Raphael and Isadora.

"I apologize for her manners,"

Raphael merely shrugged, methodically cutting his steak, while Isadora waved it off with a lighthearted laugh.

Lilian, surprisingly, took the seat beside me. Not that I cared. Okay maybe I did care, she was too in my space.

After dinner, dessert was served with another bottle of vintage wine.

The elders discussed wedding plans, deciding on a date just four weeks away, ample time, according to them, to plan everything.

I nursed my wine, my mind drifting. My father's enthusiasm was evident, he practically glowed as he discussed the details with Isadora.

Meanwhile, Raphael was preoccupied with his phone. His demeanor calm as usual.

Who was he chatting with?

Was it business? A mistress? I tasked myself with the duty of guessing who it was with the different expressions on his face.

He looked up suddenly as if feeling the weight of my inquisitive gaze in him.

He arched a brow, a demeaning smile dancing at the edge of his lips.

I sneered at him in response then looked away.

A sudden yawn escaped me, my eyelids growing heavy.

"Are you okay?" Lilian's voice drew everyone's attention to me, something I had hoped to avoid.

"Yeah, just feeling a bit off. I think my lack of sleep is finally catching up to-" another yawn interrupted my sentence.

"You should rest," Lilian suggested, her voice unusually having a calming effect on me.

For once, I agreed with her. I muttered a vague apology, pushing back my chair.

My body felt oddly sluggish as I made my way to my room. As soon as I hit the bed, darkness consumed me.

---

RAPHAEL'S POV

The conversation had drifted from wedding plans to reminiscing about the past specifically, when my father was still alive.

My aunt and Mr. Giovanni were deep in discussion, their voices tinged with nostalgia and their eyes filled with a silent sadness.

I had a feeling there was something between this two that I wouldn't like to hear.

I looked away from them, the boredom I was feeling earlier increasing at every moment.

Mr. Giovanni's daughter, on the other hand, couldn't seem to take a hint that I wasn't interested in engaging in any kind of discussion with her.

My phone vibrated in my hand. A call from Lorenzo, my cousin and right-hand man.

I stood up excusing myself to take the call in a more private place, but before I could leave, a loud, scream echoed from upstairs.

Everyone froze for a split second before springing into action, racing up the stairs.

I got there first.

A woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Lilian stood at the doorway, hand clamped over her mouth, her body frozen in shock.

I walked past her just as Mr. Giovanni arrived. The moment I stepped into the room, I understood why she had screamed.

Serena, my supposed bride, was currently curled up in bed, sleeping soundly in the arms of another man.

Her father's wingman.

"SERENA!!!" Mr. Giovanni bellowed, his voice shaking the walls with rage.

I guess this marriage wouldn't be as dull as I thought it would be.