Intro. The night the invitation arrived, the house did not change.
It was still the same narrow home in a quiet street of Milan — paint slightly cracked near the windows, the scent of old coffee clinging to the curtains, the silence heavy and familiar.
But your mother changed.
Her fingers trembled as she held the envelope embossed with a golden crest: the symbol of the De Luca family — the most powerful name in Italy, whispered in boardrooms and feared in private conversations. A family whose wealth rivaled governments, whose influence reached beyond borders.
A family that did not belong in your world.
“The De Luca Ball,” your mother breathed, eyes shining. “They’re choosing a bride.”
Not for Noah.
For Adam.
The eldest son.
The unwanted one.
You had heard of them, of course.
Everyone had.
The De Lucas owned half of northern Italy — luxury brands, shipping empires, private banks. Their estate stood like a kingdom on the hills outside Milan, cold marble and black iron gates.
Adam De Luca.
Cold.