Raven's heart skipped.
No. No. No.
He couldn't be serious. If she got thrown out now, her father would lose his mind—no, he'd burn her alive.
But on the outside, she smiled. Smooth. Sweet. Like the slap to her pride never landed.
She let out a soft, embarrassed laugh, stepping closer again.
"Nico… come on," she said, voice like sugar. "I didn't mean to overstep. I just thought... maybe we got off on the wrong foot."
Her eyes softened, lower lip tugged between her teeth. She tilted her head like she was trying to look innocent.
"You don't have to marry me tonight. Just… let me stay. We're both tired. I won't even say a word."
She glanced at Kyan with a fake little smile.
"He can go. We'll keep the peace. Like real adults, yeah?"
She gently reached for Nico's hand again, eyes pleading.
"Please. Don't make me look bad in front of your servants…"
She was playing every card now—soft voice, watery eyes, and the quiet desperation of someone with everything to lose.
Nico's jaw clenched.
He didn't like it—telling Kyan to leave. His eyes lingered on him for a second too long before he finally said, voice low, "Kyan. Go to the other chamber."
There was a pause. Like even Nico needed a second to breathe after saying it.
Kyan hesitated but nodded, quietly slipping out.
The moment the door shut, Nico turned to Raven.
Her lips were already curled into some fake, sweet smile, like she thought she'd won.
He stared at her. Cold. Unmoved.
"Take the floor," he said flatly, tossing his watch onto the table.
She blinked, confused. "What?"
He didn't look at her again. Just started unbuttoning his shirt like she wasn't even in the room.
"No woman steps on my bed," he muttered.
And that was that.
Raven sat on the edge of the cold floor, her jaw tight. Her manicured fingers gripped the soft edge of the blanket she'd pulled down from the bed.
She was Raven Latino—the spoiled heiress of the Latino clan. Her whole life, she'd been pampered with designer sheets, marble bathtubs, and silk curtains flown in from Italy. She didn't even know floors could feel this damn hard.
But none of that mattered now.
All for a stupid title.
Her father had made it clear—get crowned Queen of the Luciano empire or don't come home at all. And her father wasn't the type to bluff. He was brutal. Cold. The kind of man who once tied her cousin to a chair for disrespecting a guest. She'd watched it happen from the top of the stairs.
That same man had kissed her forehead and handed her a suitcase. "You will win him. You will give me a Luciano grandson."
And now here she was. Lying on the floor of a man's room who didn't even look at her twice.
She clenched her teeth, staring up at the ceiling.
This wasn't going to be easy.
But Raven wasn't raised to lose.
Raven waited until the room went quiet—Nico's deep, steady breathing telling her he was asleep.
She slowly reached for her phone under the blanket and turned the brightness down.
Her fingers moved fast.
"How to seduce a cold-hearted Mafia boss?"
"How to get on his bed without looking desperate?"
"What turns on a Mafia king?"
"How to make a dominant man want you?"
"Why does he hate women?"
"How to fake cry and look cute?"
"Is sleeping on the floor character development?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed, switching tabs.
"Ways to make a man obsessed with you – Mafia edition."
"10 tricks to get the king to want only you."
"Signs he wants you but is hiding it."
She glanced at Nico's bed.
He hadn't moved. Not once.
She typed again.
"How to survive a night in a Mafia king's room without crying."
Raven groaned and dropped the phone on her stomach.
"This man is going to kill me… with silence," she muttered.
But she wasn't giving up. Tomorrow, she'd try plan B.
Whatever that was.
*****
Kyan sat on the edge of the unfamiliar bed, still tense. The room was dim, warm, and filled with soft murmurs and quiet snickers.
"Look who's here," a smooth, teasing voice said from across the room.
Kyan looked up.
Three guys—shirtless, relaxed, and way too good-looking for their own good—stood near the window. All of them carried the same cocky air Nico did, but with a little more mischief. They were the kind of boys you didn't trust around your heart… or your wallet.
"Welcome to your new room, softie," the tallest one smirked, folding his arms. His tattoos ran across his chest like they had a story to tell.
The second one had sleepy eyes and perfect lips. "We heard you were King Nico's little pet," he said, stretching lazily. "He always liked collecting things."
The third one just grinned. "Don't worry, we don't bite."
He paused.
"Unless you're into that."
Kyan swallowed hard.
Luciano blood, yes. But not first line. Their mothers were maids—pregnancies whispered about behind heavy doors. They were Lucianos, but the kind that had to fight for it.
"Move your skinny ass, Softie," drawled Ace, the sleepy-eyed one with the devil-may-care smile, sprawled across Kyan's bed like he owned it. Shirt off. Pajama pants riding low. He tossed a pillow at Kyan's face. "This bed's softer than mine. We're sharing tonight."
"No, we're not," Kyan mumbled, tugging the blanket.
"Yes, we are," said Rico, the one with the sharp jawline and body carved like a Greek god. He was leaning in the doorway, shirtless and dripping from a recent shower, towel dangerously low. "Room rule: first come, first sleep. You snooze, you lose, Softie."
Kyan gawked. "What kind of mafia rules are those?"
"Luciano ones," smirked Dante, the tallest and cockiest of them all, busy fixing his hair in front of the mirror, shirt half-buttoned. He winked at Kyan through the reflection. "Also… shirt off in this room unless you're leaving. It's an unspoken agreement."
"Who agreed to that?" Kyan asked, flustered.
"We did. Just now." Ace stretched, arms behind his head, smirk lazy and wicked. "You'll get used to it."
Rico came up behind Kyan suddenly, leaned in too close. "You smell like Nico's cologne," he said in a low voice. "Interesting."
Kyan stepped back fast, nearly tripping over Ace's legs.
"I—I'm just a servant," he muttered, grabbing a towel to throw over the mirror.
Dante laughed. "That's cute. You think anyone's just anything in this house."