The price of his love

The city throbbed with energy under the shimmering streetlights, a living, breathing beast that didn't rest. Isla Romano had spent several years pursuing its secrets, but tonight, she was after something more sinister than political intrigue or corporate frauds. Tonight, she was venturing into Adrian DeLuca's world, that of a man spoken of in shadowed backstreets, both feared and respected.

She grasped her clutch more firmly, her fingers tracing the hidden recorder curled up in its folds. This was her moment. Months of research, roadblocks, and whispered caution from sources who feared what he might do if he knew was finally paying off. The invitation-only Valentino Hotel gala afforded her the chance to penetrate his reality, to finally make clear what she only suspected up till now…Adrian DeLuca was not just a billionaire businessman,

But He was the master manipulator of a crime empire.

Wearing a beautiful emerald gown and her heels clicking against the marble floor. Isla stepped into the party ,The room glowed with luxury crystal chandeliers twinkling above, and the lingering flavor of pricey champagne and foreign cigars surrounded the air. There was power emanating from each guest in the room, but it was he who filled the air with weight.

She recognized him immediately.

Adrian DeLuca stood by the sweeping stairs, talking with the senators and one of the tech moguls, looking like he owned the place as he did. He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his black hair perfectly coiffed, his angular features impassive. His very presence commanded notice, his air one of command and soft aggression.

Isla breathed deeply.

She had interviewed dangerous men previously, but crooked politicians and arms traders. Adrian was different. He was not merely one criminal cloaked behind a legitimate empire. He was the king of New York's underbelly, and tonight, she would finally have the evidence that would criminalize him.

Taking a flute of champagne off the passing tray, Isla navigated through the crowd, not wanting to attract attention. She was aware of the danger. Were Adrian to even suspect her motives, she wouldn’t leave that hotel in one piece.

“Enjoying the party?”

A rich, velvety voice sent a shiver rippling down her spine. Isla spun round, her breath caught as she came face to face with the man whom she had traveled so far to unmask.

Adrian DeLuca Up close, he seemed even more formidable. His leaning-forward posture and piercing hazel gaze locked onto her eyes, studying, calculating. A slow grin tilted his lips, as if he'd already figured her out in one look.

Isla smiled, playing the part that she had practiced. "It's quite the spectacle. Although I have to say, it's difficult to determine if anyone is here to support the charity or the schmoozing."

Adrian smiled, but with no hint of humor. "In spaces such as these, individuals don't often do anything without motive." He cocked his head, never taking his eyes off her. " so tell me, What's yours, Miss Romano?"

Her heart raced. He remembered her name.

She covered her discomfort with a glass of champagne, forcing herself to keep her voice firm. "Every journalist has an agenda, Mr. DeLuca. We pursue stories, we uncover secrets."

"Ah." He moved closer, the aroma of his cologne, cedarwood and darker scents, enveloping her sensitive nose. "And what truth do you expect to learn here tonight?"

Isla stood firm. "The usual secrets, scandals, the sort that powerful men like to keep buried."

His grin grew wider, yet his eyes grew darker. "Be cautious, Miss Romano. Dangerous are some secrets."

The warning in his tone was unmissable. He knew.Maybe not everything, but enough to suspect. Too much, too soon.She must back off before she revealed herself.

She was not able to answer before there was commotion by the entrance. A few men who had not been invited appeared, looking menacing. The room stiffened as security advanced, but Adrian did not flinch.

"Excuse me," he whispered, his eyes holding on her for one last second before he turned and left.

She stood and watched as he stepped towards the commotion, her instincts telling her to leave. But when she headed towards the door, a firm grip wrapped around her wrist.

She hardly even got the chance to react before there was a low voice in her ear saying, "You shouldn’t have come here, Isla."

Her blood ran cold. Someone was watching her.

She slowly turned, her heart beating against the confines of her ribs. A man in black stood before her, his face unreadable.

"Who are you?" she insisted, maintaining her steady voice despite her shiver running down her spine.

He smiled, leaning in towards Adrian, who was now talking to the group of men with cold calm. "I'll say that I'm somebody who doesn't want to see you harmed. And if you remain, you will."

Isla's pulse raced, but she stood tall. "I'm capable of taking care of myself."

The man laughed quietly, though there was no humor in it. "Those are the words of all of them until it is too late and they discover that Adrian DeLuca does not abandon what is his."

Before she could answer, the hand on her wrist relaxed, and the man dissolved into the crowd, disappearing with the same rapidity with which he appeared.

A strange feeling of unease settled in her gut. Isla had been anticipating danger, to be sure, but not this a warning, a statement, a game with no rules that she was already in, unaware of how it was played.

She turned her eyes back to Adrian, who now stood by himself, looking at her with a look she couldn’t quite read.

And in that instant, the realization hit her: She was no longer investigating Adrian DeLuca. She was in his crosshairs.

And Adrian DeLuca got whatever he desired.

But the night hadn't ended yet.

As she headed towards the door, the heat of his stare burned against her back. A waiter appeared in her path and presented her with a small, tightly folded note and a chilled glass of champagne.

Baffled, Isla picked up the note and opened it.

You're taking a big risk, little reporter. Watch whom you trust.

Her breath caught. Her gaze flashed to Adrian one last time, but he was already facing in the opposite direction, addressing a cluster of investors. Had he ordered this? Or was there a hidden player in this game of high-stakes intrigue?

But One thing was sure, though: she was in deeper than she'd ever have believed.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the café, gilding the city in soft gold. But Isla felt none of it.

She sat alone, tucked into a quiet corner, her fingers curled around a coffee that had long since gone cold. The bitter taste still lingered on her tongue, but she barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere spinning, unraveling, fighting to make sense of everything she had uncovered about Adrian DeLuca.

Each thread she pulled only revealed more shadows. Whispers of lucrative deals that dissolved overnight. Business partners who simply... vanished. And a past so carefully buried it made her skin prickle with unease.

Still, fear wasn’t what tightened in her chest—it was something fiercer. Defiance. She hadn’t clawed her way through corrupt boardrooms and broken trust just to back down now.

Her laptop sat open before her, its glow illuminating the scattered notes she’d spent sleepless nights compiling. Every search felt like crawling deeper into