𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗦𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

Prologue

In the brutal world of organized crime, love isn't a feeling you entertain lightly. In this cut-throat world, power is an intoxicating aphrodisiac. Anarchy, violence, and deception, these were the pillars that propped up my twisted existence.

Life wasn't supposed to be like this, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. One moment I was playing second fiddle to my father, next thing I knew, I was leading a symphony of devils.

Papa had prepared me for the worst, yet, somehow I still felt like a virgin at a gang bang, looking at the shadows, hearing the chilling whispers, the suspicious glances that came my way. That's the kind of respect a woman gets when she tries to sit at a table full of hungry sharks.

"Stop gawking at me, Johnny, or I'll have your tongue nailed to your mother's doorstep!" I snapped at one of the lieutenants who had his gaze too fixed for my liking.

After my father's death, silence had become an endangered commodity. The whisperings didn't bother me much. In fact, they reminded me of the unfulfilled obligations I had towards the family. I wasn't my father, but I sure as hell wasn't going to be some scapegoat either. Not when I still had a score to settle.

While finding my way around this brutal maze, I met him - Fyodor Petrov, a man who was as complicated as the notes of whiskey he made for me every evening.

"Do you need anything else, Miss De Luca?" he would ask in his Russian accent, masked with an infuriating sense of calm.

"What's the special on today's menu?" I'd play along. Something about his steely exterior intrigued me, enticed me even.

How can someone with such a sordid past live in such obliviousness? The secrets hidden behind his lost memories were too tempting for me to resist.

It's said that love and hate are just two sides of the same coin. My dance with Fyodor felt more like an exhilarating juggling act with a live grenade, seductive yet deadly. Perhaps in a world soaked in blood, finding solace in a beast was the closest thing to redemption.

"Careful what you wish for, Rosa," my father's words echoed in my mind. "You might get more than you bargain for."

If only he had known, what I had bargained for was just a sous chef with the skills of a wolf in sheep's clothing. That's what it means to play in the big leagues.

Only the stars in the heavens knew how our twisted tale of lust and unspoken longing was going to unravel.

One thing was for sure; I wasn't backing down, not without getting a taste of that mystery shrouded behind those ice-cold Russian eyes. It's said the sweetest fruit is always forbidden; I just couldn't help wanting a bite.