Hearts Don't Lie, But Spies Do
Steam rolled off Adriano’s body as he stepped out of the shower, water droplets tracing paths down his sculpted torso. He grabbed a towel and ran it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. The mirror fogged with condensation, catching the faint reflection of the golden serpent tattoo wrapping around his arm.
He moved through the bathroom with the precision of a man used to being watched, to dressing for war—even if tonight, the battleground was a rooftop restaurant and the weapons would be words.
Still, he felt it in his gut.
Something was coming.
He wiped the mirror clean, staring into the face that bore his family's legacy. Adriano Raffaele Greco. Youngest son of Don Raffaele. The reckless one. The ambitious one. The disobedient one.
And maybe, tonight, the one who would finally snap.
He toweled off, then headed into the bedroom, where a black tailored suit waited—pressed, polished, and pristine. Diamond had teased him about it earlier, calling it his ‘CEO of crime look’. The memory made the corner of his mouth twitch.
As he dressed, each layer felt like armor. The watch. The belt. The chain around his neck. The cologne that Diamond liked.
He took one last look in the mirror.
Game face on.
In the living room, Diamond lay curled on the couch with a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on her lap and an old romcom playing quietly in the background. The comfort of the scene contrasted sharply with the storm twisting in her stomach. Her hazel eyes flicked to the hallway as footsteps approached.
And then he appeared.
Adriano stepped into the room, clean-shaven, hair slicked back, his black suit molded to his form like second skin. A gold watch shimmered on his wrist, catching the warm light of the chandelier above. He looked like danger disguised as elegance—death dressed for dinner.
Diamond sat up, stunned. “Wow. You look amazing.”
Adriano smirked and walked over. “Still can’t believe you convinced me into doing this.”
They kissed. Her hands slid over his lapels, feeling the hard lines of his chest beneath the fabric.
“You agreed to it because you care about me,” she said softly, eyes searching his.
He shrugged. “True.”
He pulled back just enough to check his watch. “Shit, I gotta get going before Gabriele starts whining about me being late.”
Diamond giggled. “He’s like that?”
“You have no idea,” Adriano said with a roll of his eyes. “The man schedules bathroom breaks.”
He kissed her again, shorter this time, but with the same heat. As he began to pull away, Diamond gripped his wrist and tugged him back.
“Wait,” she said, her voice more cautious now. “Where are you and your brothers having this fancy dinner?”
Adriano tilted his head as he tried to recall. “Uh… some luxury rooftop place in Manhattan. Starts with an E. Eros? No… Echo… Echelon. That’s it. Echelon.”
Diamond nodded slowly. “Sounds nice.”
He scoffed. “Of course it does. Gabriele picked it. I swear, that man treats Yelp reviews like the Bible.”
Diamond chuckled. “Try not to kill your brother.”
Adriano raised a brow. “Which one?”
Diamond grinned. “The one we both hate?”
“Can’t promise you that.” Adriano winked, kissed her one last time—this one lingering—and then turned for the door. “Lock up, alright?”
“I always do,” she said, her voice faint.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Diamond stood frozen in the center of the room for a moment, her smile dissolving as soon as the door shut. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She moved like someone sleepwalking—slow, hesitant steps back to the couch.
She picked up her phone from the cushions. Stared at the screen.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
Then it pressed.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
Diamond swallowed, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Adriano just left.”
She took a breath, grounding herself.
“He’s having dinner with his brothers at some expensive, five-star rooftop restaurant in Manhattan. It’s called… Echelon.”
Diamond nodded to whatever the person said, her jaw tense.
“…Yes. That’s the name. I’m sure. That’s where they’ll be.” Her voice cracked on that last part.
The call ended.
She set the phone down on the coffee table like it might burn her.
Her hands were shaking.
Her whole body felt… wrong.
Her chest ached like she’d just run a mile but hadn’t moved at all.
She sat down slowly, staring at her reflection in the black screen of the TV. She didn’t see Diamond Fontaine, the sultry seductress, the master manipulator.
She saw Angela Summers.
The girl who used to believe in justice.
The woman who told herself she could wear this mask and not lose herself in it.
Her breath caught in her throat. She was betraying him. She knew it. Not just putting his operation at risk, she was putting his life in danger.
She could picture him at that table already with Gabriele, exchanging knife-sharp words with Alessandro, on his tongue. Completely unaware that the person he kissed before leaving had just sold him out.
Again.
Her fingers pressed into her temples. “It’s what I’m here to do,” she whispered.
It had to be.
She couldn’t be the kind of woman who caught feelings for a mafia prince. She couldn’t be the type who started dreaming about a future with a murderer.
He’s killed people. He’s dangerous. He’s reckless. He’s part of a family that’s poisoned the world. Part of a family that took away the people I loved the most.
So why did she keep remembering how he looked at her when she was laughing?
Or the way he said her name when they were alone in the dark?
Or the way he’d whispered sweet nothings in her ear while they made love.
Diamond clenched her eyes shut.
These feelings aren’t real. They’re just a distraction. They’re not real. They’re not real.
But it felt like everytime she told herself that, it seemed less and less like the truth.