Velvet Corp
The Velvet Corporation's main building was buzzing with quiet activity. Assistants walked briskly through hallways, interns scurried around with coffee trays, and executives nodded at each other like every second was worth a thousand dollars.
Inside Tristan Moretti's sleek, intimidating office, the atmosphere was vastly different — calm, cold, and controlled.
Except for the woman currently walking in with zero intention of being quiet.
*Saphina* burst in with a paper cup of iced coffee and a mischievous grin. "Guess who managed to survive another meeting with that nightmare from accounting?" she declared, holding her coffee like a trophy.
Tristan didn't look up from his laptop. "Was it a near-death experience?"
"Worse. He tried to explain crypto to me using salad as a metaphor."
That made Tristan glance up, brows furrowing slightly. "Salad?".
"Don't ask. I've lost brain cells." She dropped the folder on his desk. "Here's the revised list for the gala. I added the VIP guest list, floor layout, and a secret note insulting Anthony's tie choice."
Tristan didn't smile. "Thanks."
Saphina blinked at him. "Okay... what's with the grim reaper energy today?"
He closed his laptop and stood up, pacing slightly to the floor-to-ceiling window. His eyes locked onto the skyline but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Something wrong?" she asked, more softly now.
He didn't respond immediately. Then, "There's a situation... involving someone close to me."
Saphina tilted her head. "A situation, huh? Secret girlfriend or emotional family drama?"
He turned to look at her sharply.
She raised her hands. "Relax, it was a joke. You looked like you were about to vaporize me."
Tristan exhaled, his voice lower now. "It's about my younger sister."
"Oh..." Saphina nodded. "I didn't know you had a sister."
"Not many do. It's intentional."
"Let me guess — overprotective big brother vibes?"
He gave a short, dry smile. "You could say that."
"So what's the problem?" she asked, sitting on the armrest of a chair. "Boy trouble? Secret identity? Hidden royal bloodline?"
He didn't laugh. "There was an old agreement. A promised arrangement… my father made it years ago without her knowledge. Now it's resurfacing."
Saphina's eyes widened. "Wait — like an arranged marriage?"
He gave a small nod.
"You're kidding." She stood now, hands on her hips. "That's insane! Does she even know?"
"No," he said tightly. "And I don't intend for her to find out like this."
Saphina stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Wow. Okay. So what's your plan? "
"I want to protect her. But I'm trying to avoid turning her life into a bigger mess than it already is."
Saphina softened. "You care a lot about her."
"She's the only person left that matters," he admitted, voice heavy. "I can't let her be used to repay old debts. She deserves better than the world she was born into."
There was a silence. Then Saphina quipped, "I don't know who she is, but if she's anything like you, she's probably brooding over Italian literature and espresso shots."
Tristan raised a brow. "She prefers chocolate milk and detective novels."
Saphina snorted. "Adorable. I take back the brooding part."
She stepped closer, more serious now. "Whatever happens... I can help. I may not know the whole story, but I can see how much this is weighing on you."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks."
"And also," she added with a wink, "if your sister ever wants to escape an arranged marriage, I'm excellent at fake kidnappings, wardrobe overhauls, and distracting rich men with emotional trauma."
He smirked faintly. "Noted."
She tapped her cup. "Now, can we go yell at the decorators? They want to use gold chairs at the gala and I'm convinced we'll all go blind."
He chuckled and followed her toward the door, his mind still on his sister — the ticking clock he couldn't ignore.
If things spiraled… no one would be safe.
Especially Liana.
---
In the dimly lit underground hideout, the quiet hum of tech filled the silence. Jack stood at the head of the war table with his usual crew — Daniel, Luca, and Marco. The screen before them projected the interior layout of Velvet Corporation, detailing entrances, blind spots, and security rotation.
"Security's tighter than usual," Daniel muttered. "Facial recognition, thermal scanners, guards in tuxedos. This isn't your typical gala."
"Velvet Corp's playing dress-up with a steel cage underneath," Jack replied, tone low and sharp. "But that works in our favor. Everyone's distracted."
"Not everyone," Marco added. "Especially not Tristan Moretti."
Jack's expression turned unreadable. "Does he know me?"
"No," Daniel confirmed. "You've stayed clean. Publicly, you're just Jack—no last name, no Romano ties."
Jack nodded. "Let's keep it that way."
He turned to the side, tapping through the guest list sent by Saphina. His connection with her had been useful — she trusted him just enough to get him through the doors.
As he scanned the names, his thumb stopped.
Liana.
His brow furrowed. No last name. Just… Liana.
"She's on the list?" he muttered.
Luca peeked over. "She didn't tell you she was attending?"
"No. Never even mentioned Velvet Corp." Jack's eyes darkened. "She said her father died. That she grew up overseas. There was nothing… mafia about her. No ties."
"Maybe there's more to her," Marco said.
"She never even told me her surname," Jack muttered.
Daniel leaned forward. "Wait… if she's attending the same gala as the Morettis… could she be one of them?"
"No," Jack replied quickly. Too quickly. "No way. She's too innocent. Too real. They wouldn't raise someone like her."
"But she's in the lion's den tomorrow," Daniel said carefully. "With the Morettis. And you'll be there too."
A tense silence followed.
Jack clenched his fists. "We stick to the plan. Blend in. Watch. No weapons drawn unless necessary. But if anything happens to her—"
"You'll blow your cover," Luca interrupted.
"I'll protect her," Jack said simply. "That's all that matters."
Daniel exhaled. "What if Tristan finds out who you are?"
Jack smirked, cold and calm. "Tristan Moretti doesn't even know I exist."
"And if he finds out at the wrong moment?"
"Then I hope he's faster than a bullet."
There was a flicker of unease across the room.
But Jack was already turning away, pulling out his phone and opening Liana's last message — the one he hadn't read until now.
*Liana*: *Hey, Hope you're okay…Missed talking to you*
His jaw tightened. He hadn't replied. And tomorrow, they'd see each other again…
A dangerous place to meet.