CHAPTER 105: THE MASKED DANCE

The office was wrapped in half-light, the city skyline casting broken gold through the blinds.

Bianca had removed her jacket revealing her net lingerie, she proceed and removed his belt, kneel beside him and began to suck his d*ck in between his legs. He became so had and lay her back on the table in a doggy position. He stroke her from the back, while she moan out of pleasure. With was indeed juicy and wet, creating sweet sounds as the organs bang into each other. Until they both had enough. His d*ck collapse as he cum into her for the fifth time. While her Pussy was full of his cums. Just as she wanted it.

Bianca wore back her cloths and adjusted her jacket, pausing long enough to let the silence thicken. Every breath inside that room carried the scent of risk, of something forbidden, of a victory she thought she had finally claimed.

Luca’s chair faced away from her, the dimness turning his silhouette into a mystery.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, a predator savoring the quiet before the strike. The night outside hummed with engines and secrets. Inside, only her heels broke the calm rhythm of the room as she crossed the floor.

She stopped behind him. "You’re quiet, Luca," she murmured, voice curling through the air. "Don’t tell me the great Morano has lost his words."

He didn’t answer, only shifted slightly, his face hidden in the shadow of the desk lamp. The silence thrilled her. To Bianca, it meant surrender.

A spark of triumph lit her eyes. At last, she thought, after all these years of watching him chained to that saintly wife of his. Tonight he was hers or so she believed.

She leaned closer, whispering near his ear, her perfume thick with intent. His stillness fed her confidence. She played her part to perfection, every movement a page from the handbook of temptation.

But when she stepped back, breath quick and heart wild, the man at the desk said nothing.

He only reached for a paper and signed it, the pen scratching faintly on the page.

Something felt off. The silence was too heavy, too practiced.

Bianca forced a light laugh, gathering her purse. "So," she said brightly, "no words? Fine. Actions always spoke louder with you." She pressed her phone’s screen, typing the message that would twist a knife into Alessia’s heart if she manage to find it.

"I had a nice time at your office with you" and a wink emoji.

She placed a small flash drive on the desk. "Listen to this," she said, voice dropping to businesslike calm. "I had to pretend to be one of them. Their new plan, it’s all recorded here. Consider it a gift. As long as you keep me happy, I will keep betraying Seraphina and Lorenzo for you. Sweet deal, right?"

She flipped the switch beside the doo, the lights flared to life and her breath turned to ice.

It wasn’t Luca.

It was Jaàdo, Luca’s new secretary, sitting behind the desk with a composed expression, the Morano seal still gleaming on the paperwork he Had been signing.

Bianca’s pupils shrank, she just had sex with the wrong person. Her throat closed around a single shocked breath. "What... "

"Mr. Luca left ten minutes ago, before your arrival." Jaàdo said coolly, rising. "He asked me to keep his office occupied. You have been... speaking to the wrong man, and did stuffs with the wrong person. I tried to talk but you shut me up with your fingers crossing my lips ."

The world tilted. Bianca’s heels scraped the floors as she stumbled back, clutching her purse. Heat rushed to her cheeks not passion this time, but humiliation.

She glanced at the flash drive on the desk, realization dawning too late.

Jaàdo’s gaze hardened. "He said to tell you, betrayal has a price."

*********

Two floors below, Daisy was surrounded by darkness of her own making. The "shadow room," as she called it, had no windows, only the hum of a server rack and the soft glow of dozens of small screens looping silent footage.

Each screen showed fragments of the mansion: corridors, Kitchen, parlour, the training hall, and her private elevator.

But one camera unregistered, hidden inside her own apartment was new.

Her backup CCTV, A secret that no one knows existed except her.

For days Bruno her pet had acted normal again.

He laughed, slept properly, ate all his meals, play with her hair and even kissed her forehead as usual , like nothing had ever happened.

Daisy wanted to believe the experiment hadn’t broken him. But the scientist in her, the part that trusted evidence more than affection couldn’t let it rest.

She scrolled through timestamps of the hidden footage until she found it, the night she collapsed.

The room filled with grainy shadows on the screen.

At first, she saw herself body slumped on the floor, hand curled around the small vial she was about testing.

Then movement in the doorway: a figure fighting someone unseen. The intruder’s outline flickered in and out of frame, as if the camera couldn’t decide whether he was real.

Romeo.

He forced the door shut, fists meeting something invisible. Daisy leaned closer to the monitor, heartbeat loud in her ears. Sparks from the hallway light revealed what looked like a second shadow. No face, no shape, only the suggestion of a man forcing his way in. Romeo shoved back until the door clicked. Then he knelt beside her.

He touched her wrist, checked her pulse. His lips moved, the microphones catching fragments of his voice:

"I thought she had poisoned herself... but maybe fear did this. Let her recover."

He rose, glancing once at the untouched vial on the table. He didn’t take it. Didn’t even touch the glass.

The recording ended with him leaving the apartment, shutting the door with a care that didn’t match the chaos before it.

Daisy sat back, hand over her mouth.

The logic didn’t add up.

If Romeo had saved her, who had tried to break in? And why did the footage distort every time the second shadow appeared?

She pressed the file to an encrypted drive, slipped it into her pocket, and stood. Answers wouldn’t come from a screen. She needed to see him. face to face.

The corridors of the detached house stretched quiet at that hour.

Her footsteps echoed against marble as she reached the parlor.

She dialed Romeo’s number, the phone trembling slightly in her hand.

The call barely rang once before she heard the click of her own front door.

Romeo stepped in, holding a bouquet of crimson flowers and a small box of chocolates. His smile was hesitant, almost boyish.

"Daisy," he said, pocketing his phone, "I was just about to call you."

She stared at him, the flowers, the innocence in his tone and behind it all, the echo of the recording. "We need to talk," she whispered.

Romeo blinked, the warmth fading from his face. "About what?"

"About the night I fainted," she said. "And the shadow you fought."

The bouquet trembled slightly in his grasp.

*******""

Alessia sat at the edge of the bed, the evening light spilling over the velvet sheets.

Luca’s phone on the bed that stayed close to her buzzed once, screen lighting the room with that single line,

"I had a nice time at your office with you" with a wink emoji.

Her chest tightened, the words cutting through her like cold water. She read it again, as if repetition might change the meaning. It didn’t.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her heart argued with her mind, one saying he would never, the other whispering but he could.

"Don’t judge," a small voice murmured inside her, the voice she used when she wanted to believe the best in him. But the silence of the house mocked her faith.

She remembered dialling his number earlier before he came home. It rang until it hanged. No answer.

"Was he with Bianca, when she called?" she asked the empty room.

Her mind didn’t bring any respond she expected.

Then she imagine a Bianca touching luca or even kissing him and trying to lure him to have her, No.... , she said as she ended the thoughts.

Then her phone buzzed . A message from the city’s council of families: the annual Ball Festival.

Her favourite since childhood.

For a moment, nostalgia steadied her heartbeat.

Minutes later, She opened her wardrobe, fingers brushing the fabric of gowns she hadn’t worn in years.

The wine-colored one caught her eye rich, regal, defiant. The crown rested beside it, a reminder that no matter how fragile she felt, she was still the wife of Luca Morano.

By the time the maids entered, she was radiant again. Lipstick the shade of courage, curls pinned in a queen’s arrangement, the gown hugging her with quiet power.

Luca appeared in the doorway, expression unreadable. "Your favorite festival," he said softly. "My men are waiting to escort you."

"You’re not coming?" she asked.

"Something came up," he replied, adjusting his cufflinks. Then, gentler, "Be safe. I will wait for you to come back home."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The maids bowed as a sign of respect to avoid seeing their intimate moment.

Alessia nodded, masking her disappointment behind a practiced smile.

The scent of his cologne lingered as she left, a ghost of the man she once trusted without question.

********

The ballroom glittered like a dream. Chandeliers spilled diamonds over silk gowns and tailored suits.

Every mafia wife in the city was there, each carrying secrets as precious as the jewels at her throat.

Alessia accepted a glass of champagne, traded polite smiles, and found refuge at a corner table with a bowl of ice cream, her small rebellion against sophistication.

The piano’s soft hum filled the air, sweet and haunting.

When the master of ceremonies announced the waltz, she stayed seated at first.

The guards - Fredo and two others watched discreetly from a distance.

Then a man approached, tall, dressed in black, his face half-hidden behind a silver mask.

"May I?" he asked, voice low and familiar.

Alessia’s instinct was to refuse. She had declined every other invitation that evening. Yet something about him, his scent, his composure pulled at memory’s edge. It felt dangerous, but also... inevitable.

She placed her hand in his gloved one. "Just one dance," she said.

Fredo shifted. "Ma’am.. "

"Relax, Fredo," she murmured. "Protect me from danger, not from a moment of music."

The stranger led her to the center of the floor.

The piano deepened, strings swelling around them as they began to move.

He guided her effortlessly, every step familiar, as though they had danced a hundred times before.

"You move as if you have done this with me before, and you seem very familiar.," she said, studying his mask.

He tilted his head. "Have we?"

"I don’t think so," she replied, smiling faintly. "I’m married. Therefore I’m Mrs Luca Morano Alessia."

His hand lingered at her waist just long enough to send a tremor through her calm. "Kim," he said. "I’m single."

The name struck no chord, but the cadence of his speech did the rhythm, the quiet dominance. Alessia’s heart skipped.

Where had she heard it?

They turned with the music, silk brushing against his jacket, lights painting fleeting patterns over their faces.

For a moment, the world shrank to the sound of their steps and the warmth of his nearness.

"Can we have a private moment?" he whispered near her ear, voice barely audible beneath the violins. "At Crystal Hotel. I’ll pay you handsomely."

Her breath caught. The audacity shocked her, yet something inside he, the part still bleeding from Bianca’s message reacted with a dangerous curiosity.

Behind the mask, his eyes gleamed like recognition and dare.

The orchestra slowed, the last note trembling through the hall.

Alessia stepped back, heart pounding.

Before she could speak, the whisper came again not from him this time, but from somew here deep within, the same dark whisper that had followed her since she read that message.

Time to take your revenge, it said.

Luca had a time with Bianca. It’s time to explore with this stranger.......