Note: I have already written the next three chapters of this book. I could publish them today itself, but I have decided to release one chapter each day. This will give me time to write more chapters ahead and ensure that you receive daily updates of this book. My goal is to finish the book by the end of this year.

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The grand Salvatore estate stood illuminated like a beacon of power and wealth. The sprawling garden, decorated with strings of fairy lights and pristine white roses, buzzed with the chatter of the city's most influential figures. Inside the estate, the hall was a picture of opulence—golden chandeliers, marble floors polished to perfection, and tables lined with crystal glasses brimming with champagne.

Allies and rivals alike mingled under the watchful eyes of guards stationed discreetly around the room. Laughter and murmurs of business deals filled the air as the guests indulged in caviar, wine, and their mutual pursuit of power.

One corner of the room was occupied by Don Genaro Salvatore himself, flanked by his closest allies.

He was dressed in a sharp black suit that exuded authority, sipped his scotch slowly, his piercing gaze surveying the room. Beside him stood an old ally, Luca Moretti, a long-time friend and confidant.

"You've sent an invitation to the Sinisters, haven't you?" Moretti asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Do you really think they'd come?"

The Don smirked, swirling his drink. "If they want to expand their influence and solidify their power, they'll have no choice. Alliances aren't built on ego—they're built on strategy. The world may fear them but for me they are the biggest cowards hiding behind the shadows. The invitation wasn't just a mere invitation, it was my way of challenging them."

Moretti chuckled. "But how would we even know if they're here? Nobody has seen them, and their anonymity is their greatest strength."

Salvatore leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Their tattoo. That's how you'll know. Each of their gang members bears a tattoo to signify their place. But the Sinisters themselves? Their tattoos are unique—marks of their dominion. If they're here, we'll recognize them."

Moretti laughed. "Well, if I spot one, I'll convince him to marry one of my daughters. Maybe then I'll forgive you for marrying Vincent to your second-in-command's sister instead of one of mine."

Salvatore joined in the laughter, his shoulders shaking with mirth. But before he could reply, the room fell silent. Heads turned sharply toward the grand entrance.

The double doors opened slowly, creaking under their weight, and the hall plunged into a hushed silence. In walked the Sinisters, an aura of danger and mystery clinging to them like a second skin.

At the center was Lucifer, his sharp features and piercing eyes cutting through the crowd. Dressed in a dark, tailored suit, he moved with predatory grace, his presence commanding and suffocating all at once. To his left was Rafael, broad-shouldered and exuding menace, while Izrael, with his cold and calculating expression, flanked him on the right. Gabriel, their ever-watchful companion, followed close behind, along with a handful of their men—all silent, all deadly.

The room seemed to shrink as they approached, and once everyone noticed the tattoo, they knew who they were. Series of gasp left and hushed whispers echoed. Their presence now a suffocating reminder of their unmatched power.

Don Genaro stepped forward, his smirk widening to mask the unwanted unease clawing at his chest. "Ah, the infamous Sinisters. You honor us with your presence finally showing us what stays behind the mythical men"

Lucifer's gaze was like a dagger, cutting straight to Salvatore's confidence. "Honor isn't something you give. It's something we take."

Salvatore chuckled, though his hands tightened behind his back. "You may have power, but don't forget who holds the strings in this city. Step out of line, and even you will fall."

Lucifer's lips curled into a faint smirk, one that promised devastation. "Threats are a sign of insecurity, Don Salvatore. And insecurity..." He paused, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "...is the first step toward defeat."

The tension between them was palpable, a storm waiting to erupt. But Salvatore, sensing that a direct confrontation was unwise, stepped back and gestured toward the party. "Enjoy the night. I am very sure, people here would like to have the pleasure of finally meeting you."

Soon the Sinisters sat on their respective seats, nobody daring to even meet their gazes, the environment suddenly became very tensed, the restlessness was so thick that it could be cut by a knife.

Most of the people present were regretting coming there, few wanted to have them as their allies but were wondering how to make the right move without getting their throats sliced off.

Soon the focus of the crowd finally shifted to another grand entrance.

Vincent appeared, his every movement exuding power and control. His suit was impeccable, his presence demanding attention as he strode into the room with the confidence of a king.

"VICIOUS" Izrael hissed. Rafael who was sitting beside him kept his hand over his to calm him down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight I officially present to you, my fiance, my soon to be Queen who would rule beside me." Vincent spoke. The crowd applauded and the grand entrance door reopend.

The crowd was surprised.. The beauty infront of them had captivated them. Along with the men even the women wondered if she was actually real or just a fragment of their imagination.

Haven was radiant in a floor-length silver gown, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her delicate face.

Her innocence stealing the spotlight and her elegance stealing hearts. She walked with confidence even though her heart was ready to come out of her chest, she didn't let her anxiety show on her face.

It was an order from Vincent.

"You are my queen and you will have to act like one today. No mess up's tonight. Haven."

Haven. That's what he called her. She knew just then how serious he was. He didn't tell her what would be the consequences if she didn't meet his expectations but she knew that would be worst.

Her gaze felt on group of men. Their gazes were pretty different from the rest of the crowd but she shrugged off and walked straight ahead towards Vincent.

The crowd cheered as Vincent took Haven's hand in his and gracefully pulled her on the stage but Lucifer, Rafael, and Izrael froze. Their sharp eyes followed Haven's every move, a flicker of recognition sparking within them. She looked familiar—hauntingly so.

"Does she... remind you of someone?" Rafael murmured, his voice low.

Izrael narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. "She does. But why?"

Lucifer remained silent, his gaze locked on her. Something deep inside him shifted, a strange and unfamiliar ache that stayed his hand.

Gabriel, standing beside them, glanced at Lucifer. "What's the hold-up?" he whispered. "This is the perfect moment to strike."

Lucifer didn't respond. His heart, uncharacteristically, had faltered. He gave no signal to attack. For the first time, he hesitated.

As the ring ceremony commenced, the hall basked in an air of celebration. Vincent slipped the shimmering diamond ring onto Haven's trembling finger, his smile polished yet predatory. Haven, despite the storm of emotions swirling within her, placed the matching band on his hand.

The crowd erupted into applause, the clinking of glasses and jubilant cheers echoing throughout the opulent hall. Champagne flowed freely, and the grandeur of the moment seemed almost surreal.

But then, the doors at the far end creaked open, silencing the crowd.

The priest, dressed in somber robes, strode in, his presence commanding attention. He stopped in the center of the room, a solemn contrast to the lively atmosphere moments before.

The cheers faded to murmurs. All eyes fixated on the priest.

Confusion rippled through the guests—this was supposed to be an engagement, wasn't it? Murmurs began to rise, questioning the sudden turn of events.

Haven froze. Her breath hitched as the priest opened his book and began to speak.

"This is no ordinary celebration," the priest declared, his voice resonating through the grand space. "We gather here not just for an engagement but for the sacred union of marriage."

Gasps echoed throughout the hall. The crowd exchanged stunned glances, caught off guard by the revelation. Whispers turned into an uproar as realization settled in—this was a wedding.

Haven's heart pounded against her chest. She turned to Vincent, her wide eyes brimming with disbelief. He met her gaze with a calm, unwavering smirk.

The priest cleared his throat and continued, his deep voice cutting through the commotion.

"Do you, Vincent Ivan Salvatore," he began, "take Ha—"

BANG!

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the atmosphere, sending a ripple of panic through the guests.

Screams erupted as the crowd scattered, their elegant attire a blur of chaos.

I didn't get the time to proofread this chapter, so feel free to point any mistake in the comments

Thankyou for reading !!