CHAPTER 1 — The Girl Beneath the Silk
Pearls continued to roll across the marble floor, each soft click echoing in the silence between them.
Enzo didn’t move.
Because what he saw wasn’t seduction… it was survival.
Faint scars traced along Harper’s ribs—thin, deliberate lines, half-hidden beneath trembling fabric. Not recent, but not forgotten either.
Harper froze under his gaze, her breath shallow, eyes wide with something far deeper than fear.
Shame.
“Don’t—” she whispered, clutching the torn dress tighter around herself. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Enzo asked quietly.
“Like you pity me.”
That stopped him.
Enzo DeLuca didn’t pity anyone.
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But in that moment… revenge didn’t feel like power anymore.
It felt like a mistake.
