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.

SERENA'S POV

"Will you just please just shut up?" I groaned at the weird woman screaming in my dream, my voice groggy with sleep. Luckily, she did.

"Thank you," I murmured before snuggling into the soft pillow at my right hand. I remember thinking vaguely that this wasn't my scent on my pillow-and when did pillows start to hug back?

I grinned. I was probably in a dreamlike state. I've had many of these in the past-some nice, some terrifying....

"SERENA!!!"

I jolted up from sleep.I guess this was was one of the terrifying ones.

But why was my father shouting angrily at me in my sleep?

"Wake up, you shameful child, before I..."

My eyes immediately flew open, just in time to catch him standing over me, his hands curled in the air like he was on the verge of losing control.

"Papa," I mumbled, looking at him in surprise and trying to sit up.

"Don't you dare!" he warned, wagging one of his ringed finger at me, as he literally vibrated from what I thought could only be pent up anger.

I paused in reflex. I had never seen him this angry in my life.

What was all the fuss about? I tried recollecting what had happened before I decided to rest my head, but my unreliable brain was trying to play a prank on me at this crucial moment. As expected, I scoffed.

Something stirred in bed next to me, temporarily taking my attention off my fuming father. My mouth dropped open as I scrambled to move away.

"What the hell?" I yelled, looking at my father for a tangible explanation to the naked and attractive Antonio, who was just beginning to stir from sleep beside me.

That was when I realized he was not the only one in the room.

Standing not too far from him was Raphael, his arms crossed, eyes slightly widened in surprise, a grin playing at the edge of his lips.

I could almost hear his voice in my head saying, "Haven't you been really, really naughty, Serena?"

Just beside him was his aunt, a hand on her chest, her mouth hanging wide open. Nice. I had just about given poor Aunt Issadora a heart attack.

My stepmom and sister stood side by side, trying to hide the malicious glint in their eyes behind a shocked expression .

My fuzzy memories started to return little by little. I could clearly remember Lilian helping me to my room before I passed out.

"You fool. What were you thinking?" I palmed my face in both of my hands.

Of course, I had just been played, and the naked fool beside me was just a key player used against me. I couldn't even muster enough energy to blame anyone other than myself right now.

"I can explain, Don. It really is not what you think," Antonio blurted out the thousand-year-old excuse people mostly used when they'd been caught doing something wrong, as he tried to sit up with his bare chest.

"Just shut up," I murmured, jabbing him in the side as I made to get up.

"No!" they all almost screamed at the same time, but it was too late.

I guess they knew something that I didn't know because before I could blink the blanket had slipped down to my waist, revealing a very sexy, red laced, one-piece lingerie-which I don't even remember owning.

"Fuck!" I muttered, running past my shocked audience-almost in my birthday suit-to the bathroom and locking myself in.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I kept on muttering as I paced around the room, my body filled with tension.

They really got me hard this time. A picture of Lilian and Isabella laughing together in mockery flashed through my head, making me punch the door hard and shout a frustrated,

"Fuck!" in the empty bathroom.

-----------

RAPHAEL'S POV

"What do you want, son?" I raised a brow, staring at the father of my wife-to-be.

The only man I respected as much as my own father.

I was currently sitting in his study, across from his large mahogany desk.

The door was locked. The room seemed soundproofed and the air was filled with a sizzling tension which was coming mostly from the old man.

I could understand that he was angry, seeing the position Aunt Issy and I found his daughter in. But I've never seen this man look so unsettled, not in the twenty-four years I had known him.

Could this all be because of the love he has for his daughter?

Or, it was a whole other different matter and Serena was actually in danger from her own family.

I bet, it was the former.

I propped one leg over the other, adjusting myself to get more comfortable in the high-backed leather chair as I answered his question .

"I do not-"

"Never mind. I'll deal you in on my Spanish cargo, which is going to be landing two weeks from now,"

I tried to quickly hide the surprise I was feeling from reflecting on my face.

"Fifty-fifty," he said, stretching his hand out toward me, waiting for me to take it.

"What's the catch?" This kind of offer never came freely-not even from Uncle Giovanni. Especially not from him.

He watched me for a while, opened a half-drunk bottle of whiskey on his table, and poured himself a glass. Then slid it toward me with the tips of his fingers-all the while, his gaze steady on me.

If he had given me the chance to speak before dropping this mouth-watering offer before me, I would've let him know that I was less concerned about the drama that happened earlier.

In fact, if it did anything, it just added a splash of color to my already dull day. And also it did give me a deeper inkling on the kind of people Serena's stepmother and sister really were.

Nevertheless, business is business. I was never the kind of person to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he's willing to part with fifty percent of his cargo in good faith, then I'm in. No arguments.

I picked up the drink he offered and took a sip of the dry liquid, which burned down my throat, as I waited for him to lay all his cards on the table.

"You and Serena will get married in two weeks' time."

"Ahhh!" We both heard the soft gasp, followed by a slight creak by the door.

Surprised our head turned in unison towards the door.