The guests who had mocked her before now watched in silent astonishment. Vivian, the lonely single mother, was suddenly the center of attention, dancing with a man who exuded power and danger. For the first time in years, she felt truly seen.
When the song ended, he bowed slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Thank you, Mrs. DiLorenzo,” he murmured.
Her heart pounded. “And after this?”
He smirked, a dangerous glint in his gaze. “We keep pretending. For now, it keeps you safe.”
The next morning, a sleek black car waited outside her apartment. The driver handed her a card embossed with gold lettering: “Mr. Antonio DiLorenzo requests your presence.”
Vivian hesitated, instincts screaming caution, but curiosity drew her in. The mansion she entered was unlike anything she had ever seen. Marble floors stretched endlessly, the silence humbling and heavy. Antonio stood by a grand piano, tie loosened, eyes unreadable.
“You did well last night,” he said quietly. “I owe you.”
“I did it to survive,” Vivian replied, arms crossed defensively.