Chapter 1: The Five-Hundred-Dollar Kiss “Five hundred dollars. One kiss. That's all you have to do.”

The damp air of the cellar seemed to freeze into ice.

My breath hitched in my throat. The world tilted beneath my feet, more terrifying than any bullet that had whizzed past my ears tonight. "What did you say?"

"Your mother, Evelyn," Nico continued softly, his thumb resting gently against my cheekbone. "Twenty years ago, before I took over the Moretti family, my father was betrayed. I was wounded, bleeding out in an alley in South Chicago. It was your mother who hid me in her apartment, who stitched my shoulder, who fed me when half the city wanted my head on a pike."

My mind raced back through the memories—my quiet, gentle mother who worked double shifts at the hospital, who always kept a mysterious silver locket locked in her nightstand, who had warned me with her dying breath never to trust men with expensive suits and dark eyes.

"She saved my life, Hannah," Nico whispered, his expression tortured by shadows. "When she fell ill, she refused my money. She was too proud. She made me swear on my mother’s grave that I wouldn't drag you into this violent world. She wanted you to have a normal, clean life."

"So... that night at the lounge..." My voice cracked, tears streaming down my face. "You set that up?"

"No," Nico shook his head firmly, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. "I only watched you from the shadows, making sure Victor didn't hurt you. I paid off half his men to keep him away from you. But that night... when you boldly walked across the room, looked into my eyes, and kissed me for a bet..."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath hot and ragged.

"In that moment, Hannah, all my noble promises burned to ash. The moment your lips touched mine, I knew I was too selfish to let you go. I didn't care about the rules anymore. I wanted you. Even if it meant dragging you into hell."

A heavy silence hung between us, filled with the distant rumblings of gunfire from the floors above.

A surge of anger, betrayal, and undeniable, overwhelming love collided inside my heart. He had deceived me, watched me struggle, yet he had stood between me and death without a second thought.

"You're an arrogant, selfish bastard, Nico Moretti," I whispered, my fists clutching the lapels of his ruined tuxedo.

"I know," he breathed against my lips.

"And you're going to keep me alive," I choked out, staring defiantly into his silver eyes. "Because I didn't survive twenty-four years of hell just to die in a wine cellar."

A dark, ferocious pride ignited in Nico’s gaze. "That's my girl."