Sire

In the heart of Manhattan, the Bianchi name resonated with power and elegance, echoing through the glittering towers that kissed the sky. Their skyscrapers, clad in glass and steel, reflected the vibrant pulse of the city, while their brand’s emblem adorned the finest boutiques, flaunting luxury and exclusivity. Their lavish parties hosted in penthouses overlooking the Hudson were the stuff of legends; it was where the elite mingled amidst crystal chandeliers and the world’s finest wines. Yet, beneath their shimmering façade, secrets as ancient as the cobblestones of Old New York lay buried, their weight threatening to unearth the family’s carefully crafted image…

Across the Atlantic, the sun dipped below the rolling hills of Tuscany, bathing the sprawling vineyards and olive groves in a golden hue. Here, among the rustic charm of stone villas and cypress trees, the Bianchi legacy thrived in the shadows and whispers of everyone surrounding them. This land had cradled their ancestors, who had built their wealth on centuries of trade and cunning, but their true heritage ran deeper still. The Bianchi were not just a family of affluent businessmen; they were a pure-bred line of Lycans, one of the oldest clans still standing, steeped in myth and magic that coursed through their veins like fire.

Emiliano Bianchi stood in his office on the fifty-seventh floor, his gaze lost in the sprawling vineyard below. For as long as he could remember this office, which use to be his father’s office, a constant second home in his life; a testament to his family’s history that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Long ago, his great-great-great-great-grandfather Gregorio Bianchi laid the foundation for their wine business and as it was now, Emiliano’s children’s children would still feel the business’ wealth. Emiliano spent his life watching his father and learning everything there was no know about the business; it had been expected that Emiliano would take over the family and its businesses, that was until Marco, his younger brother, express a desire to learn more to take over the family…

The brothers shared blood through their father, Emiliano’s mother having been his father’s mistress and his fated mate; the tensions ran high between the brothers, often being egged on by Marco’s overbearing mother. Technically, as an illegitimate child Emiliano would normally have no claim, but Emiliano was a child born of a fated mating and that was more important in the eyes of the Council. Now, the choice loomed over his father’s, Gregorio the VI, as to whether the family legacy would pass to Emiliano or Marco.

Emiliano longed to be next in line, yet he couldn’t escape the dark shadow of being the illegitimate son; his mother, Noelle Regio, was a vineyard worker. This reality cast a shadow over his childhood memories—joyful moments spent running through the grapevines with his father, learning to tend to the vines and knowing when to pick the best grapes from his mother, studying the intricates of the family business surrounded by laughter and delicious wine.

As Emiliano considered his place within the family, a beep from his desk pulled him from his thoughts. “Mr. Bianchi, you have the Capriotti meeting in two hours,” Amelia, his assistant, reminded him.

“Thank you, Amelia. Is the helicopter ready?” he asked, rising to gather his things.

“Yes sir. It is.”

With that Emiliano left the office, acutely aware of the growing pressure that was mounting on him. Emiliano had decided to mirror his father’s demeanor in all ways but one—he remained single at twenty-seven years old in human years. In his world, it was unusual for a Bianchi to be without a mate at that age, yet Emiliano wanted something more, he sought a love that transcended the superficiality surrounding him, a connection that could pierce through the wealth and status that enveloped his family…

The flight to the Capriotti HQ occupied his mind with thoughts of the merger; it promised to be a landmark partnership between two powerful brands. Renaldi Capriotti, the CEO, had sung high praises of his daughter, Fia, the new Head of Marketing and Design, whose impressive credentials had quickly earned her the role. Emiliano’s anticipation was palpable; he had never met her but was intrigued by the potential of their collaboration.

As he stepped from the helicopter, he was greeted by old Renaldi himself. “Emiliano Bianchi, we meet again,” the man said cheerfully, despite the undertone of rivalry that crackled beneath the surface.

“Sig. Capriotti, you look well. Your family?” Emiliano inquired, keeping his tone professional.

“Perfetto! I don’t have to ask about the Bianchis; the tabloids are constantly running fantasy trash about your family… disgraceful,” Renaldi spat, a flicker of disdain crossing his features.

Emiliano chose to ignore the jab as they made their way inside. The receptionist immediately offered him a drink before leading him to a glass-walled boardroom. He hadn’t seen where old Renaldi had disappeared to, but the moment the door opened, a marvelous scent enveloped him—an intoxicating blend of freshly bloomed Sakura and sweet strawberries. It was then that he saw her: Fia Capriotti, stepping into the room with grace and poise, commanding the attention of the room.

“Emiliano Bianchi, I would like to introduce the Head of Marketing and Design as well as my beautiful daughter, Fia Capriotti,” Renaldi introduced, gesturing to her.

As Fia extended her hand, Emiliano felt an electric jolt surge through him, a magnetic pull that he couldn’t ignore. Her honey-colored eyes locked onto his, and suddenly the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them caught in an unspoken bond.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Capriotti,” he managed, his voice low, as his Lycan, Ruud, stirred restlessly within him.

“Is my age causing you concern, Mr. Bianchi?” she asked, her confidence evident even as a hint of vulnerability lingered beneath the surface.

“No,” he replied a bit louder than he had intended, causing her to blink in surprise. “I-ah, you’re molto carina.”

A flush crept up her cheeks, disarming him further. In that moment, amidst the impending business deal, something deeper stirred—a connection that threatened to consume them both.

Fia cleared her throat, trying to cut through the thickening tension. “Shall we begin?” she asked.

As Fia began her presentation, Emiliano found himself captivated by her presence, struggling to focus on the slides as his thoughts spiraled into uncharted territory. The merger, the future, everything faded against the backdrop of her beauty and charisma. Even Ruud, who never offered an opinion on any woman Emiliano found attractive, agreed; this woman was her… they, Ruud especially, wanted to know more of her.

On a hopeful whim, he dreamt of what it would be like to see her dressed in a gold gown and mask, highlighting her eyes. He thought of the way their bodies would meld together as they danced their way through the ballroom. With every witty exchange and the lingering glances, Emiliano felt and undeniable pull towards her; and the dormant beast within him stirred, finally awakening a longing he had never knew existed. He needed to claim what was his.

“Mr. Bianchi,” Fia called again softly, the pink on her cheeks deepening as his fiery eyes locked on hers. “Was it that bad?”

“Excuse me?” he asked confused.

“My presentation. Was it so boring that you couldn’t pay attention,” she asked not quite being able to hold the slight scolding behind the question.

Emiliano smiled. “No. Your presentation was impressive, Miss Capriotti. I especially love your idea of having Bianchi’s become your signature wine. You will be the only hotel to sell this wine in your establishment.”

Fia, clearly impressed, blushed harder and performed a small curtsy for the praise he gave. “Thank you. So does this mean that you’ll agree?” she asked hopeful. “And please, call me Fia.”

“Well, Fia, it is a rarity to find someone who understands both creativity and strategy. It is refreshing… I’ll have to run it by the board, but you have my vote.”

“Such high praises from you Mr. Bianchi. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me,” she joked, or was it a joke? The way he had spoken her name, it rolled off his tongue in a sweet, vibrating melody that Fia could feel in her toes.

“If it doesn’t make me too unprofessional and lowers me in your eyes, I am and please call me Emiliano,” he replied.

Fia’s cheeks flushed a rosy, red color, a reaction that sent a thrill through him. “Thank you, Emiliano. I must admit I was nervous about presenting for a member of the Bianchi family… I know my father speaks highly of my skills and I wanted to prove to your family that I am not just some spoiled child pretending business.”

Fia looked away embarrassed, not believing that she told Emiliano Bianchi that his family made her nervous. Not being able to help herself in the silence that followed, Fia risked a peak at him and their eyes locked, and in that moment, again time stood still. Emiliano could practically feel the fire that burned in her amber gaze, mirroring his own restless spirit. The air between them pulsed with an electric tension that threatened to burn the world down around them.

“You’re more than your last name,” Emiliano replied, his voice barely above a whisper while his heart pounded away in his ears. “You’re a force to be reckoned with… and you shouldn’t let anyone, including my family, make you feel otherwise.”

As they spoke, Fia’s mind raced. She had never encountered someone who could ignite such a passionate response from her—his mere presence sent shivers down her spine. “I look forward to our next meeting,” she said, trying to maintain her composure despite the heat rising from between her legs. “I hope I can get the opportunity to impress you again.”

“There’s more?” he questioned jokingly. “But you know, I’d like to see you outside of business as well.”

Fia blinked, surprised, her heart fluttering. “Are you suggesting—I mean are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes,” he said, a small smile forming on his lips. “I would like you to attend my family’s masquerade ball this weekend. It is an annual tradition for the Bianchi family here in Italy. I would be honored if you came as my date.”

Her pulse quickened. “A masquerade ball, that sounds enchanting.”

“With you there, it will be,” he assured her, his eyes gleaming. “And I have a feeling it might just be the best night of my life.”

The idea of attending the ball with Emiliano ignited a spark of excitement within her.

“I’d love to join you,” Fia replied, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. “It will be a night to remember.”

“Indeed,” Emiliano said, leaning closer, the scent of his cologne intoxicating. “Just promise me you’ll wear a mask. I want to see the true you, not just the world’s expectations.”

Their exchange was laden with meaning, each word deepening the connection that had formed between them. Yet, with their burgeoning relationship came a shadowy secret. Whispers of an ancient legacy threatening to somehow reveal all to Fia and ruin what had only just begun. The secret sought to exploit Emiliano’s vulnerabilities about his family and the truths that could ruin their fragile bond…

Later that evening, Fia burst into the large apartment she shared with her best friend, Mia, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Mia! You won’t believe the day I’ve had!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her heels as she tossed her briefcase onto the couch.

Mia looked up from her sketchbook, a curious smile spreading across her face. “What? You look like you’re about to burst.”

“I’ve been trying to contain myself all day… I met Emiliano Bianchi!” Fia squealed, her hands flying up in delight.

Mia dropped her pencil, her mouth agape. “The Emiliano Bianchi? Like the Emiliano Bianchi that everyone’s talking about? The heir to the Bianchi fortune?”

“None other!” Fia squealed again, not being able to contain herself any longer, her heart racing. “He invited me to their masquerade ball this weekend. Can you believe it?”

“Stop it! Are you serious?” Mia shouted, shooting up from her seat, grabbing Fia’s shoulders. “This is huge! How did you even meet him?”

“I was presenting my proposal for a collaboration, and he actually paid attention to me. He said I was a force to be reckoned with!” Fia’s cheeks flushed at the memory, the way his gaze had made her feel seen and the way he said her name.

Mia’s eyes sparkled with mischief and suggestion. “So, he was into you then? Did you two flirt?”

Fia nodded, her heart racing. “There was definitely something—like a spark. He would lean in close, so close that I could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating… And then he asked me to be his date!”

“Oh my God!” Mia squealed, jumping up and down. “You have to tell me everything! What did he look like? Was he as gorgeous as all the tabloids say?”

“Even more so! He’s tall, with that dark hair and those piercing, gray eyes. He has this confidence about himself, but it’s not arrogance. He just…radiates this kind of power.” Fia sighed, daydreaming.

“And when he spoke to me, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.”

Mia clasped her hands together. “You’re going to this ball! And you have to wear something stunning. My God girl, this is your chance!”

Fia’s stomach fluttered at the thought, but it quickly soured as the knots began to form in the pit of her stomach. “What if I mess it up? What if he changes his mind?”

“Then he would be an idiot! But besides that, Fia he invited you,” Mia said firmly, shaking her head at her clueless friend. “Fia you are smart, talented and you’re beautiful… any man would be lucky to have you. Whatever happens, just be yourself and knowing you, you’ll find yourself in some pretty high spaces soon enough.”

“You’re right. I can do this. But first, I’ll need a dress.”

“No. First, you’ll need a gown, and it has to be fabulous!” Mia declared, her eyes shining with excitement and determination. “You’ll be the belle of the ball!”

As the two friends began to plan, Fia couldn’t help but allow her mind to think of all the possibilities—ones of a magical night, hidden identities, and a budding connection with a man who seemed to embody everything she had ever desired. It was as if today was fated to happen… the entire situation was almost too good to be true.