I hesitated at the threshold, my heart pounding in my chest.The members of the Viper Group dominated the room, their sharp suits and colder gazes slicing through the air. My throat tightened as I tried to speak, but the words stuck.

Vito leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear. “Be nice to them. First impressions matter,” he whispered.

I glanced at him, startled by his calm. How was he so composed? Every instinct screamed at me to turn and run, but Vito’s presence beside me steadied me, his words carrying a weight I couldn’t ignore.

Swallowing hard, I stepped forward. “It’s an honor to meet you all,” I finally managed, my voice shaking.

The man who’d spoken earlier—standing at the center—chuckled softly. “An honor? Interesting choice of words, Mrs. Moretti.” His gaze swept over me, calculating.

“Celia,” Vito corrected, his voice steady but firm.

The man raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. “Vito’s spoken highly of you. Says you’re… resourceful.”

I stole a quick glance at Vito, unsure of what to say. He gave me a small nod, his face unreadable.

“I hope I can live up to his words,” I said, cautiously.

The man’s lips twisted into a smirk, cold and unfriendly. “We’ll see.”

The tension in the room thickened. Another man, standing with his arms crossed, fixed me with a sharp, piercing look. “Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Celia?”

Before I could answer, Vito spoke, his tone unwavering. “She knows enough. And she’s ready.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I nodded anyway, letting his confidence carry me.

The first man gave a curt nod. “Let’s not waste time,” he said, his voice cold and final. “Follow me.”

He turned sharply, leading us deeper into the fortress-like building. The dimly lit corridors stretched ahead, and with every step, my pulse raced faster.

Vito stayed close, his hand brushing my lower back in a subtle gesture of reassurance—or, perhaps to keep me from faltering.

We entered a sleek conference room, the long table bathed in stark, unflinching light. The other members of the Viper Group entered quietly, their movements deliberate, almost predatory.

The man who’d spoken earlier took a seat at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit across from him. Vito stood behind me, his presence solid and grounding.

“So,” the man began, leaning forward. “Do you have what it takes to bring Marco Moretti to his knees?”

My breath hitched, but before I could speak, Vito’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder. “She does,” he said, his voice firm.

The man’s gaze held mine, calculating, searching for something—weakness, resolve, I wasn’t sure. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

The sound of a phone buzzing cut through the tension. Vito straightened and pulled his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen before excusing himself and stepping out of the room.

My eyes followed him, my stomach twisting with unease.

The room’s attention shifted back to me, but my thoughts stayed on Vito. I needed him here with me, his steadiness anchoring me.

In the hallway, Vito answered the call. His voice is low but steady. “Yes?”

A woman’s voice crackled through the receiver. “The plan’s working. He took the bait.”

Vito’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Good. Stay on him. We’ll move to the next phase soon.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “And Celia?”

“She’s in,” Vito replied, his voice unwavering. “She’ll do what needs to be done.”

The call ended, and Vito returned to the room, that same predatory smile tugging at his lips.

Something about the conversation gnawed at me. I made my way over to him, heels clicking sharply on the marble.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked, my voice was more confident than I expected.

Vito looked at me with a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “What’s this? Jealous already?” he teased, his tone light, almost mocking.

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. “I’m serious. I heard you talking about me. And something about a plan.”

He chuckled, low and rich, but the sound only made my nerves tighten. “Relax, Celia. It was just my sister. She worries too much, that’s all.”

I frowned, unconvinced. “Your sister? Then why did I hear you mention my name? And what plan were you talking about?”

His expression shifted, amusement turning into something sharper, though his smirk never wavered. “You’ve got good ears,” he said, stepping closer.

I didn’t back down. “Stop deflecting, Vito. If I’m going to be part of this, I need to know what’s really going on, Vito.”

“You know I trust you so please don’t make me doubt,” I added.

Vito’s smirk widened as he leaned against the marble wall, crossing his arms. “Celia, do I look like Marco to you?” he teased, his voice amused.

“I don’t lie, scheme, or plot behind the people I care about. That’s his game, not mine.”

I narrowed my eyes, frustration bubbling over. “Then stop acting like him. Just tell me the truth.”

He laughed, the sound rich and disarming. “The truth? You’re acting like a jealous wife, and we’re not even married.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, but I refused to back down. “I’m serious, Vito. I heard you mention my name and a plan. What are you hiding?”

His grin softened, a flicker of sincerity breaking through his teasing demeanor. “Relax, Celia. It was just my sister. She worries too much about me, that’s all.”

I crossed my arms, not letting him off so easily. “Your sister? Then why did you say my name? And what plan were you talking about?”

Vito straightened, his teasing demeanor slipping into something more serious. “You’ve got sharp ears,” he said, stepping closer. His tone dropped, low and steady.

“But you need to trust me. Everything I do is for us. For the bigger picture.”

I didn’t flinch, holding his gaze. “You told me I was ready for this. If that’s true, then stop keeping me in the dark.”

The tension between us thickened. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap. But instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You want the truth?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, my heart racing.

Vito sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if he were surrendering to a lost cause. “You’re impossible, you know that?” He muttered before finally meeting my gaze. “Fine, you win. The plan I mentioned? It’s a proposal plan.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “A what?”

“A proposal plan, Celia,” he repeated, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “The kind where I get down on one knee and ask you to be stuck with me forever.”

My mouth felt open, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words. “You’re joking,” I managed.

Vito chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was trying to make it special. Something you’d never forget. But it seems you’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Wait,” I said, still stunned. “You’re serious? You were planning to propose?”

He nodded, his teasing glint giving way to something earnest. “Yes, Celia. I’m not Marco. I don’t lie to you, and I don’t play games. I wanted to do this right, but here we are.”

I hesitated, his sincerity pulling at the walls I’d carefully built around myself. But I couldn’t forget why this started in the first place.

“Vito,” I began, my voice firm despite the tremor in my chest.

“You know this—us—it’s not real. This is about revenge. About making Marco pay for what he did to me. To us.”

His jaw tightened before he exhaled slowly. “Maybe that’s how it started, Celia. But it’s not what it is anymore. At least, not for me.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, my heart pounding as I searched his gaze for answers.

He dropped his hand, taking a small step back, as if giving me space. “I’m saying that I want this to be real. That I love the idea of being your husband. Not for the plan, not for revenge, but because I care about you. I want a future with you.”

The air seemed to leave the room all at once. I stared at him, unable to reconcile the Vito I knew—the cunning strategist with the raw vulnerability in front of me now.

“Vito,” I said slowly, “you know I don’t feel the same way.”

Vito’s expression didn’t waver, but I caught a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, maybe, or resignation. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice steady.

“I’m not asking you to love me, Celia. I’m asking you to let me love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. My pulse thundered in my ears as I searched his face, trying to understand why he would willingly walk into this knowing I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

I shook my head, the weight of his confession pressing down on me. “Vito, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to tie yourself to someone who—”

He cut me off with a soft laugh, his eyes glinting with determination and amusement.

“You think I don’t know what I’m getting into? Celia, I’ve seen every side of you—the fire, the fury, the vulnerability you try so hard to hide. And I still choose you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs. But before I could respond, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, shattering the moment.

Vito glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing as his jaw tightened. “Damn it,” he muttered, hitting decline.

“Who was it?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself.