Swaby Nolan was born into a world of blood and loyalty, the daughter of one of New York's most feared mafia bosses. But when her family is betrayed and slaughtered in a ruthless coup, she is forced into hiding, presumed dead. For years, she has bided her time, sharpening her skills and building alliances in the shadows. Now, Swaby returns-not as a helpless heir, but as a cold-blooded strategist set on avenging her family. Her plan? Infiltrate the empire of the man responsible for her family's downfall-Matteo Costa, the new king of the underworld. Matteo is as ruthless as he is captivating, a man who trusts no one and sees betrayal at every turn. But when Swaby steps into his world under a new identity, sparks fly in a deadly game of cat and mouse. As the line between revenge and desire blurs, Swaby must decide-will she destroy Matteo and claim her vengeance, or will she lose herself in the dark allure of the man she swore to kill?

Chapter 1 1

Swaby Nolan moved through the dimly lit bar with the confidence of a woman who belonged- because tonight, she did. The air was thick with smoke, the low hum of conversation mingling with the clink of glasses. Men in sharp suits sat in booths along the walls, their conversations hushed but loaded with the weight of business.

She slid onto a barstool, crossing one leg over the other as she waited. She wasn't here for the overpriced whiskey or the lingering scent of danger that came with being in a place like this. No, she was here for one reason-to get close to Matteo Costa, the man who had stolen everything from her.

Seven years had passed since the night her world had burned. The night her father, Alessandro Nolan, and the entire Valenti family had been gunned down in their own home like animals. She had been a teenager then, too young to stop it, but old enough to remember the screams. Old enough to remember the name of the man who had orchestrated it all.

Matteo Costa.

The man who now sat at the head of the empire that should have been hers.

She'd spent the years in exile sharpening her mind, training her body, and learning the underbelly of the world she was born into. Revenge had become her oxygen, and tonight was the first step in executing her plan.

"Drink?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Whiskey. Neat," she said, her voice smooth, practiced. She wasn't the same girl who had fled into the night, drenched in the blood of her family. That girl had died alongside them.

A glass slid toward her, but she barely touched it. Her focus was on the man sitting in the private booth at the back of the room.

Matteo Costa.

He was older now, mid-thirties, broad-shouldered with a face carved from stone. Dark hair, piercing eyes, and an aura of absolute authority. A man who had no equal in this city, feared and respected in the same breath.

He hadn't noticed her yet. He was speaking with someone, his fingers tapping lazily against the rim of his glass. The men flanking him were his inner circle-brutal, efficient, and utterly loyal.

Swaby had spent years planning this. Getting here. And yet, sitting this close to the man who had taken everything from her, she felt something unexpected coil in her stomach.

Rage... Grief.

A sick, unwanted attraction to the predator she had come to destroy.

She took a breath, calming herself. This wasn't the time to be reckless. She needed to get close to him, gain his trust, make him believe she was someone he could use. Then, when the moment was right, she would strike.

A shadow loomed beside her, and she turned to find one of Matteo's men watching her. He was tall, built like a bulldozer, and his expression was unreadable.

"Boss wants to see you," he said, jerking his head toward the booth.

Swaby feigned surprise, tilting her head. "And if I say no?"

The man smirked. "Then I carry you there."

She smiled, slow and easy. "Well, we wouldn't want that."

Taking a final sip of her untouched whiskey, she slid off the barstool and followed him. As she approached the booth, Matteo's gaze lifted, locking onto her like a hunter sizing up its prey.

"Sit," he said, his voice deep, commanding.

She did.

"You've been watching me," he noted, swirling the liquid in his glass.

"You noticed," she replied smoothly.

"I notice everything."

Their eyes met, the air between them charged. This was it- the first move in a deadly game. Swaby Nolan had returned... And Matteo Costa had no idea what was coming.

Swaby kept her expression neutral as she met Matteo's gaze. His dark eyes studied her, assessing, calculating. The air in the private booth was thick with the scent of expensive whiskey, cigar smoke, and the raw presence of power.

"You've been watching me," he repeated, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

"I like to observe," she said smoothly, leaning back against the plush leather seat. She crossed her legs, deliberately slow, letting the slit of her dress reveal just enough to be a distraction. She needed him intrigued. Needed him to wonder. "It's how you learn about people."

Matteo tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And what have you learned about me?"

Swaby smiled, pretending to consider her words. "That you're the kind of man who likes control. That you don't tolerate disloyalty. That the people in this room would rather take a bullet than disappoint you." She paused, lowering her voice slightly. "And that you're used to being feared."

Silence stretched between them. Around the booth, Matteo's men tensed, waiting for his reaction.

Then, to her surprise, he chuckled- a deep, rich sound that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.

"Smart girl," he mused, taking a sip of his drink. "Not many people have the guts to sit here and analyze me to my face."

Swaby shrugged. "Not many people interest me enough to analyze."

Matteo's smirk deepened. "And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," she echoed.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The movement brought him closer, and for the first time, she could truly appreciate the intensity of his presence. The way his dark gaze felt like it could strip away any secrets.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Swaby had prepared for this moment. She couldn't use her real name- he'd recognize it instantly. Instead, she had carefully built a new identity.

"Sophia Romano," she said smoothly. "Business consultant. Recently relocated from Milan."

Matteo raised a brow. "A consultant? That's a vague profession."

She smiled. "Vagueness keeps people interested."

His fingers tapped lightly against his glass. "And what does a woman like you want with me?"

Swaby leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to force him to listen closely. "I've heard things about you, Mr. Costa. About your empire. About the way you handle business." She let her lips curve into a subtle smirk. "I'm always looking to align myself with powerful people."

Matteo studied her for a long moment, as if weighing her words, her presence, her very existence. Then, he leaned back and exchanged a glance with the man to his right-a broad-shouldered enforcer with sharp eyes and a scar across his jaw.

"Vincent," Matteo said without breaking eye contact with Swaby. "What do you think?"

Vincent took a slow sip of his drink before responding. "I think she's got balls." His gaze flickered over her before he turned back to Matteo. "Could be useful. Or could be trouble."

Matteo hummed in thought. "Trouble can be entertaining."

Swaby smiled. "Only if you can handle it."

A flicker of amusement crossed Matteo's face. "I like her," he admitted, finishing his drink. He turned his gaze back to her, sharp and unwavering. "Let's see if you're as useful as you claim to be, Sophia. Come to my club tomorrow night. Midnight. We'll talk business."

She nodded, hiding the satisfaction curling in her chest. "I'll be there."

Matteo lifted his glass in a mock toast. "Welcome to my world."

Hours Later

The moment Swaby stepped out of the bar, the cool night air did little to calm the storm inside her. She had done it. The first step. She was in.

She walked down the darkened street, her heels clicking against the pavement. The city pulsed around her-bright neon signs, the distant wail of sirens, the ever-present hum of danger.

Her mind was a battlefield of emotions. Hatred. Determination. The ghost of something she didn't want to name when she thought about Matteo Costa. He was supposed to be a monster, nothing more. But sitting across from him, feeling the heat of his gaze, she knew this wouldn't be simple. He wasn't just powerful. He was magnetic. That was dangerous.

She turned a corner, her hand instinctively slipping inside her coat, fingers brushing the cool metal of the knife strapped to her thigh. A shadow moved in the alley ahead, and Swaby tensed.

"Following me, Vincent?" she asked without turning around.

A deep chuckle confirmed her suspicion. "Smart girl."

Slowly, she turned to face him. Vincent leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp with curiosity. "Boss might be interested in you, but I'm not so easily convinced."

She tilted her head. "Oh? And what is it you're so suspicious about?"

He pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You don't belong here."

Swaby smiled, unfazed. "And yet, here I am."

Vincent studied her for another long moment before nodding. "Tomorrow night. Don't be late." Then, without another word, he disappeared back into the shadows. Swaby exhaled slowly. This was just the beginning. Tomorrow night, she would step even deeper into Matteo Costa's world... And when the time was right, she would burn it all to the ground.

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