Glitz, Glam and a Surprise in waiting....

Bathed in the golden hues of twilight, Rome held the newest gem in the Blackthorn collection— the grand opening of the Janiculum Manor beneath the glittering lights of Rome's night sky. Perched atop the Janiculum Hill, the estate asserted its dominance, overlooking the city like a sovereign guarding its kingdom. The whispers of anticipation permeated the air, and the scent of roses mingled with the fragrance of wealth.

The guests entered the magnificent atrium, adorned in designer outfits that exuded luxury and power. The atrium, a celestial expanse crowned by a dome of stained glass where crystal chandeliers bathed the space in an array of elegance over the room, reflecting the city lights.

The moment Eleanor Belmont stepped into this glittering atrium along-side her step maternal uncle; regret washed over her instantly. Her emerald gown had caught the attention of the swirling media and paparazzi with the golden flashes of cameras echoing in the grandeur of the space.

One of the reporters, shouted above the clamor, "Eleanor! Over here! A smile for the cameras?"

Eleanor met the flash of cameras with a poised demeanor, like that of a dummy and her emrald eyes gleaming with the glow of crystal chandeliers above. This is something she has been used to do, perfectly exceling on it. Be it anywhere, paparazzi never stop following....

Flash! Flash!

People loved to be in spotlight, but Eleanor hated it. For her, it was a suffocating cage that robbed her of personal freedom, her father, and the simplicity of life she had yearned for.

It's really true when they say everything comes with a price. Especially, a life of glitz and glamour. However, Eleanor is paying price for something she never willingly agreed to pay.

"Eleanor, my dear, this is an opportunity." Alessandro Belmont wore a calculated smile, his hawk-like gaze scanned the room, before he turned to her with a paternal smile that concealed his ulterior motives. 

She met his gaze with a cool reserve, his gaze where malicious intent lurked around. "Opportunity for what, Uncle?"

Alessandro observed the guests and paparazzies through his silver glasses, the wheels of his schemes turning beneath his polished exterior.

In the swirl of the gathered elite, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "For you, my dear. It's time to find a suitor, to secure your future. Janiculum Manor is teeming with eligible men from influential families. This is your chance to make a favorable impression." 

Eleanor couldn't believe this man standing beside her. Since her mother's death, he had been adamant in his pursuit to marry her off. "I didn't come here to be paraded like a prize at an auction, Uncle. My future is my own concern." she retorted, her jaw tightening imperceptibly. 

His ever so plastered smile faded; however, he did his best to maintain his sanity. "Eleanor, you may be my step-niece, but I've watched over you since you were a child. Your mother entrusted your well-being to me. It's time you understand the realities of our world."

Eleanor's eyes flashed with a blend of defiance and resignation that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. With her mother gone, she thought she could live her life on her own terms, but this man bounded her through a contract to make her work in this industry. "This is not what I signed up for, Uncle." Her whisper came out more like a hiss. 

Alessandro had grown to Eleanor's defiance, nonetheless his tone sharpened, with his patience waning. "You may disdain the game, Eleanor, but you are a player. I brought you here for your own good. Find a suitor, make a favorable match, and your future will be secure." 

"I didn't come here to be a pawn in your games. If my future is to be secured, it will be on my terms." she declared sternly. This woman never backed off when it came to take her own stand.

With them walking through the polished marble floors, they approached the center of atrium with the flashes of cameras capturing their every move. 

Alessandro replied with a tight smile "My dear, embrace the spotlight. It's your inheritance." With a foul smirk, he walked away to meet his so-called influential guests, leaving Eleanor alone in the buzz of media, a relentless swarm hungry for the next headline.

"Eleanor, any plans for marriage? The eligible bachelors are eager to know!" Another reporter threw her the same repetitive query that she has been used to whenever she goes for any interviews.

Eleanor Belmont has always been the talk of the town, an alluring sensation in the entertainment industry. Being a sole heiress of the biggest cinematic powerhouse, Belle Epoque Films, established by her mother Viviene Belmont, she has been expected to carry her mother's legacy forward. 

This life of glitz and glamour was provided by her mother. And surprisingly, Eleanor was able to establish her own name here. It was even surprising as her success skyrocketed only in four years of her working in this industry. And today, she was at the peak of her career, revered as the goddess of the cinematic industry. 

"I highly doubt." A deep, rich masculine voice cut off, brushing her skin like a smooth velvet. 

The hair in the back of her neck raised with a shiver. She recognized this voice, as if this voice has been imprinted into her soul and the one who owned it, seemed unforgettable. 

Those three words were enough to divert the media's attention towards the sight of a man, standing on the stairwell. He was quick with his pair of athlete legs, approaching down the stairs and making his way to where Eleanor stood. And when he started to walk, the guests and the paparazzies made way for him.

She inhaled slowly. Released it. 

Snapping her head to his direction, her gaze traveled over the dark, brooding figure dressed in a tailored midnight black suit, which spoke of his refined taste and understated luxury. Broad shoulders and crisp black lines, the suit molded his toned physique underneath.

Wariness flickered across her chest, before she doused it. The chandeliers above illuminated his whiskey eyes, penetrating her soul straightly, as their gazes collided. 

His sinful presence touched her skin from several feet away. He traced the shape of her face like an invisible caress, sending a rush of warmth through her body. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, the duration between beats growing smaller by the seconds as the distance closed between them.

Despite the blaring alarm in her head warning her to run far away from him, she couldn't resist in taking all the six-foot-three inches of Dominic Blackthorn. Everything about him felt familiar, from his rich leather and expensive spices scent which blessed her nose as he drew close to the ache that ran deep down her chest, never leaving even after he did.

Dark black hair. Chiseled Jawline. Flawlessly proportioned face. Calculated charm. An aura and confidence of a heartthrob devil. 

Her heart turned cold and clammy in her chest.

It's been almost six years since Eleanor had last seen him. Six long years to truly make her understand his trap. A trap to lure her to his charm, make her fall for him, and eventually, break her heart....