Lina sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through reports from her company when a message lit up her phone screen.
[Nikki: Hey babe, how's it going? Have you met him yet?]
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. She quickly typed back:
[Yes, i have. He's not exactly what I was told he was]
[Nikki: Huh? What do you mean?]
[Well... you said he was a stoic and serious person who rarely smiled. But the man i met... he's the exact opposite. He seems cunning, but he's definitely not indifferent] Lina replied.
A laughing emoji appeared before another message followed.
[Nikki: Oh, my dear Lina. Haven't you heard of acting? He's clearly putting on a charade to earn your trust]
Lina paused, her thumb hovering over the screen. Nikki wasn't wrong. Everything Dominic did truly felt.. off. Having a dinner feast in her honour. Testing her loyalty... to even wanting to take her shopping.
They didn't sound like something a ruthless mafia boss would do on his own accord. It was all just a part of his game.
You're right] she typed. [So what do I do? Force his real personality out?]
[Nikki: No, girl. You play along. If he talks, you talk. If he flirts, you flirt. If he plays a game, you play it better]
Lina scoffed and typed back: [And if he tries to enter my bed?]
[Nikki: You kick his balls]
Lina burst into laughter, shaking her head. A grin tugged at her lips as she responded:
[He's actually kind of fun, you know. You two would be perfect for each other]
[Nikki: Don't mess with me. You know I don't do nonchalant mafia men. But please don't tell me you 'like' him already]
Lina's eyes widened as she fired back a disgusted emoji.
[Of course not. What do you take me for?]
[Nikki: Good. Just remember why you're really there, chica. This is all a game. You either play it... or get played. Stay focused on the mission]
[I won't let you down. I promise]
[Nikki: Good. I'll update the director on your progress. Contact me if things start to get ugly, we'll deploy backup. Fast]
[Muchas gracias, Nikita. But I can take care of myself]
[Nikki: Oh, I know you can. Just keep feeding me intel on the syndicate. Stay sharp, Lins. And stay alive. I'll be in touch]
And just like that, the entire chat thread began to vanish—each message erasing itself until her screen was clean, as if the conversation had never happened.
Lina placed the phone beside her and sank into the mattress, eyes staring at the ceiling.
She wasn't just Joaquín Morales' daughter. And this wasn't just an arranged marriage.
She was on a mission—assigned not by blood or loyalty... but by something far more important.
Her endgame.
.....
The streets of Barcelona buzzed with life—tourists meandering, locals bustling, traffic snarling like an impatient beast. But in the heart of the city, tucked away behind steel and frosted glass, was an exclusive boutique reserved for the elite.
And today, it belonged to Lina Morales.
She stood in front of a full-length mirror inside the boutique's private suite, eyeing the soft blush gown that hugged her body with suspicion.
"Absolutely not," she muttered.
Dominic lounged in a velvet chair nearby, one leg casually crossed over the other, watching her with open amusement. "You've tried on six dresses, and hated every one."
"I don't do lace," Lina said, stepping down from the platform and peeling the dress off like it offended her.
"You barely do fabric," Dominic teased.
Lina threw a glance over her shoulder. "Careful, Romano. I'm armed."
"And I'm flattered." he chuckled.
She rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Dominic to sip his espresso and smirk at the sound of rustling silk. He liked watching her like this—out of her element, uncomfortable, unfiltered.
When she emerged again, this time in a bold crimson dress with a high slit and an open back, the smirk disappeared. His eyes roamed, slow and deliberate.
"That one," he said, voice low.
She arched an eyebrow. "You like it?"
"I like watching people's reactions when they see you in it. It says you're not here to play nice."
"I'm not." Lina scoffed.
Their eyes locked. For a long moment, silence stretched between them—thick with something unnamed.
Lina looked away first. "Is this really necessary? All of it—the dresses, the show?"
Dominic stood, crossing the space between them in just a few strides. "We're announcing the engagement tonight. The press, the families, the allies... they need to see us."
Lina rolled her eyes. "As what?"
"A couple. A united front. A future built on the ashes of war." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And maybe... something more."
Lina tilted her chin up, refusing to flinch. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish, Dominate."
He smiled, dark and slow. "Who says I'm not?"
The tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight.
Before either could speak again, his phone buzzed. He checked the screen, his expression sharpening. "We need to go. The event's moved up. The world's waiting."
Lina looked back at the mirror, at the woman staring at her in red silk and defiance.
"Let them wait," she muttered, but she didn't protest as she reached for her heels.
They left the boutique and entered the black Mercedes Maybach waiting for them, and headed to the gala where they were the main guests.
The gala was hosted at the historic Palau Reial de Pedralbes, an opulent former royal palace turned playground for the elite. Velvet curtains, golden chandeliers, and the soft clinking of crystal flutes set the stage for a spectacle draped in luxury.. and tension.
Lina stood at Dominic's side, her red gown catching the light like flame. Cameras flashed from behind a velvet rope, capturing what the press would soon label "The Alliance of Fire". She smiled on cue, held Dominic's arm like she wasn't mentally listing ten ways to kill a man with a butter knife, and played her part like she'd been born to.
Dominic leaned down as they entered the grand ballroom. "You're magnificent when you're pretending to be mine."
She whispered back, "Who says I'm pretending?"
He laughed—quiet, dangerous. "Careful, Catalina. That sounded a lot like flirting."
"It was a threat." she snickered.
People turned as they walked in—cartel allies, fake socialites, politicians with blood under their fingernails. All eyes on the soon-to-be king and queen of Spain's criminal underworld.
To the crowd, they looked perfect. Untouchable.
Until the air shifted.
Lina's body tensed before her mind caught up.
Across the ballroom, standing in a sleek black suit and a dangerous smirk, was Héctor de la Cruz.
Her ex.
The one she'd been betrothed to. The one who turned out to be a monster.
And he was here.