Aria’s Pov

As i entered back into the boutique,bright chandeliers cast a warm golden glow over the elegant dresses displayed on racks. Rows of gowns in soft pastels and shimmering fabrics lined the walls, the air filled with the scent of expensive perfume. I stood in front of a mirror, smoothing down the pale blue dress I had just tried on. The silky fabric felt cool against my skin, but I couldn’t shake the discomfort twisting in my stomach.

“Aria, you look… decent,” my mother, Linda, said, barely sparing me a glance before turning to Cassandra, who twirled in a blush pink dress beside her. “Oh, my sweet girl, you look absolutely stunning!”

I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the sting of being ignored. It was always the same. Cassandra, my foster sister, was always the center of attention, while I faded into the background.

The theme of the wedding wàs blue and white but of course Cassandra could wear whatever she wanted.

Cassandra giggled, admiring herself in the mirror. “Thank’s Mom,I love this dress.”

Linda reached out to adjust a strand of Cassandra’s hair, beaming with pride. “You’ll be the most beautiful bridesmaid at the wedding.”

Victor, my stepfather, stood near the doorway, arms crossed as he watched us. His gaze flickered toward me, and I stiffened, instinctively looking away. I never felt comfortable under his scrutiny. His presence always made my skin crawl, but my mother refused to acknowledge it.

“This wedding is a big deal,” he said, his voice smooth yet condescending. “It’s important to look presentable.”

I pressed my lips together and turned back to the mirror, but my heart wasn’t in it. The dress, the boutique, the entire event—it all felt meaningless. My mother’s happiness revolved around this wedding and her new husband, and I was nothing more than an afterthought.

After changing back into my jeans and sweater, I slipped away, my mother too distracted by Cassandra to notice my absence. The cool evening air was a welcome contrast to the suffocating boutique. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my thoughts as I made my way to the bus stop.

—

The bus ride home was quiet, save for the occasional chatter of passengers. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past, my mind replaying the events of the day. But one moment stood out—the moment I had bumped into Matteo Moretti.

His deep-set sapphire eyes, the smirk tugging at his lips, the effortless confidence he carried. Your stepuncle, he had introduced himself, as if the title was amusing. There was something about him—something dangerous yet undeniably captivating.

Who exactly was Matteo Moretti?

When I arrived home, I immediately went to my room, eager to escape the chaos of my family. My small apartment, though modest, was my sanctuary. I slipped off my shoes, stretched my aching feet, and settled in front of my laptop.

Curiosity gnawed at me as I typed Moretti family into the search bar.

The first article that popped up made my breath catch.

The Moretti Empire: From Small Beginnings to Billionaire Success.

I clicked on it, my eyes scanning the page.

The Moretti brothers, known for their tight control over a chain of exclusive nightclubs and five-star restaurants, have built an empire worth billions…

My brows furrowed. Brothers? I scrolled further.

The Moretti family has been linked to underground dealings, though no concrete evidence has ever surfaced…

My heart pounded as I leaned back in my chair. What have I gotten myself into?

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