Emily sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the black car.

The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne. Outside the window, Florence slid past in a blur of golden lights and narrow streets.

She kept stealing glances at the man beside her.

Alessandro Romano drove with effortless calm, one hand resting on the wheel. The dashboard light cast shadows across his sharp features.

He looked like someone who belonged in command of rooms, not sitting quietly beside a stranger he had just picked up from the street.

Emily finally broke the silence.

"So," she said, folding her arms, "do you normally collect crying girls off sidewalks?"

His mouth curved faintly.

"Only the interesting ones."

She rolled her eyes.

"You keep saying that. Interesting how?"

"You walked away."

"From my cheating boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Emily frowned.

"That's not interesting. That's basic self-respect."

"For many people," Alessandro said calmly, "it is surprisingly rare."

They stopped at a red light near the river.

The Arno shimmered black beneath the bridges.

Emily turned slightly toward him.

"You still haven't explained something."

"What?"

"How you know so much about me."

Alessandro didn't answer right away.

When the light turned green, he drove forward again before finally speaking.

"Information travels quickly in this city."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you will receive tonight."

Emily stared at him.

"You're very mysterious."

"I prefer efficient."

She studied him carefully now.

Expensive suit.

Watch that probably cost more than her entire semester abroad.

Confidence that bordered on dangerous.

"What do you do, exactly?" she asked.

Alessandro glanced at her.

"A little of everything."

"That sounds suspicious."

"It should."

Emily laughed softly despite herself.

"Great. I just got into a car with a suspicious stranger."

"Not a stranger," Alessandro corrected.

"You know my name."

"That doesn't make you less strange."

"Fair."

The car slowed as they entered a quieter district.

Emily suddenly realized something.

"This isn't the way to my apartment."

Alessandro nodded.

"Correct."

Her stomach tightened.

"Then where are we going?"

"To talk somewhere quieter."

Emily gave him a sharp look.

"That sounds like the beginning of a crime documentary."

He chuckled.

"You watch too much television."

"And you answer too little."

The car turned into a courtyard surrounded by tall stone buildings.

A large iron gate opened automatically.

Emily's eyes widened.

"Okay," she said slowly, "now I'm definitely in a crime documentary."

Alessandro parked the car.

Before she could say anything else, a man in a dark suit approached and opened Alessandro's door.

Emily blinked.

"Wait," she said. "You have a driver who opens doors?"

"I have many things," Alessandro replied calmly.

The other man nodded respectfully.

"Buonasera, Signore Romano."

Emily felt a strange chill.

*Signore Romano.*

She stepped out of the car slowly.

The courtyard belonged to a massive historic villa.

Warm lights glowed from tall windows.

A fountain murmured quietly in the center.

Emily turned toward Alessandro.

"You live here?"

"Yes."

"You live in a palace."

"Villa."

"That's still a palace."

He gestured toward the entrance.

"Come inside."

Emily hesitated.

"This feels like the part of the horror movie where the audience screams at the girl not to go in."

Alessandro leaned slightly closer.

"And yet you are still here."

She looked at him.

His eyes were dark, steady, impossible to read.

Against her better judgment…

She followed him inside.

---

The interior was even more overwhelming.

Marble floors.

High ceilings painted with faded frescoes.

A staircase sweeping upward like something from a museum.

Emily whispered, "You're definitely rich."

Alessandro removed his jacket and handed it to a waiting staff member.

"Money is useful."

"That's a modest way of putting it."

He led her into a private sitting room.

A fire burned softly in the fireplace.

"Sit," he said.

Emily sank into a velvet chair.

"You know," she said slowly, "most guys buy a girl coffee when they want to talk."

"I dislike coffee meetings."

"You're in Italy."

"I prefer better settings."

Emily leaned back, studying him again.

"So tell me, Mr. Romano."

"Yes?"

"What do you actually want from me?"

The room grew quiet.

Alessandro stepped closer.

His voice lowered slightly.

"I told you already."

"Which was?"

"You caught my attention."

Emily scoffed.

"That's not a reason."

"For me, it is."

She held his gaze.

"That sounds like you're used to getting what you want."

"I am."

"And if I say no?"

His expression didn't change.

"Then you say no."

Emily blinked.

That wasn't the answer she expected.

"You're serious."

"Completely."

She tilted her head.

"You're a strange man."

Alessandro studied her quietly.

"And you," he said, "are about to become a very complicated problem."

---

The next morning, Emily woke up in her apartment with a pounding headache and the lingering feeling that the previous night had been unreal.

She stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

*Did I really go to a mafia palace with a stranger?*

Then she saw the card on her bedside table.

A black business card.

Embossed silver letters:

Alessandro Romano

No phone number.

No title.

Just the name.

Emily sat up slowly.

"Okay," she muttered.

"That definitely happened."

Her roommate Sofia burst into the room.

"Emily!"

Emily jumped.

"What?"

Sofia looked panicked.

"Do you know who Alessandro Romano is?"

Emily blinked.

"…Should I?"

Sofia stared at her like she had just confessed to meeting the Pope at Starbucks.

"Oh my God," Sofia whispered.

"You don't know."

Emily's stomach tightened.

"Know what?"

Sofia grabbed her phone and shoved the screen toward her.

An article headline filled the display.

ROMANO FAMILY EXPANDS CONTROL OVER NORTHERN ITALY BUSINESSES

Emily frowned.

"What is that?"

Sofia pointed at the photo in the article.

It was Alessandro.

Standing outside a luxury hotel.

Surrounded by men in suits.

The caption read:

*Alessandro Romano, head of the powerful Romano family.*

Emily felt her heartbeat spike.

"Family?"

Sofia lowered her voice dramatically.

"Not family family."

Emily swallowed.

"Then what kind?"

Sofia leaned closer.

"The kind with guns."

Silence filled the room.

Emily slowly set the phone down.

"You're telling me…"

Sofia nodded.

"You spent the night with the most dangerous man in Florence."

Emily groaned and dropped back onto the bed.

"Of course I did."

Sofia grabbed her shoulders.

"Emily! He's mafia!"

Emily stared at the ceiling.

"Well," she muttered.

"That explains the palace."

Sofia paced nervously.

"You need to stay away from him."

Emily sat up again.

"Relax. It's not like he asked me to join a crime family."

Right at that moment…

Her phone buzzed.

Both girls looked at it.

A text message from an unknown number.

Emily slowly opened it.

Alessandro:

*Good morning, Emily.*

Her stomach flipped.

Another message followed.

*Lunch today.*

Not a question.

A statement.

Sofia whispered:

"Oh my God."

Emily sighed.

"…I think the mafia boss is asking me on a date."